Office Intrigue in the Future

Location: Accounting Station 982

Aliens: Igneon, Oculum, Planarian

Shala stepped out of the lift, into the gray sea of terminals known as Accounting. The identical workspaces are crammed together to maximize the efficiency of the space. Not to mention make it hard for anyone to get up and do anything other than their work. The clacking of buttons and whirring of machinery sounded like a roaring ocean compared to the silence of the employees. Glum floated by. Four or five of his eyes lingered on her as he passed. Shala was tempted to make a face at him, but was sure that would appear in her file by end of day.

 Instead, she waded into the claustrophobic shallows of the terminals, teeming with people who looked like they might die on the spot from boredom. Shala’s banded sandstone scraped against the terminals as she did her best to squeeze through. She didn’t bother excusing herself. Of course her maintenance ticket was for a terminal roughly in the dead center of the room. “Hey, I’m Shala from Engineering. I heard you’re having trouble?” she asked. The Planarian at the desk was leaned back, his voicebox whistling a little tune. Shala wasn’t aware voiceboxes could do that. If they weren’t such heavily guarded trade secrets, she’d love to take one apart and see how it worked. Instead, she had to fix Accounting Terminal 42-B. “What seems to be the issue?” she asked, setting down her tool kit and opening the latch.

 “There isn’t one,” the Planarian said quietly, not looking at her.

 “I get it,” she said, getting her display out of the toolbox. It blinked and struggled to life. “I don’t blame you,” she said conspiratorially, leaning close. “I’ll take as long as I can to fix it. That way we both get an easy day.” Glum whizzed past, honing in on someone in the far corner. Two tendrils sprouted from between his eyes and tapped on the console. He told the employee how much their mistake was costing The Hegemony by the second. At least Shala knew he was a jerk no matter where he was. She turned back to the task at hand and found the Planarian had slithered right next to her.

 “I don’t think you do get it,” the Planarian’s static-y voice whispered. “It doesn’t need fixing.” Shala was unsure of what to do. She looked down and saw the terminal was obviously struggling, the lights flickering and a distant hissing coming from one of the panels. Shala turned again to look at Glum. She checked the display for the maintenance ticket. She had assumed Glum had been the one to place the work order, but she found it was anonymous. Surely Glum noticed the faulty terminal. It occurred to Shala in instances such as these, the employee is usually given a different terminal, even on a different level if need be.

 “Shala,” Glum said from the front of the room. “Good work. You may return to Engineering,” he said. He sprouted a tentacle and pointed back to the lift to emphasize his point. Another Oculum, like Glum, was floating there beside him. Could that be the manager? Shala, confused, closed the toolbox and latched it closed again. She shrugged. Fine, one less thing to worry about. The office station was crumbling daily, one faulty terminal didn’t make much of a difference.

 But something didn’t sit right with Shala. Instead of going to the lift, she started her long, scraping journey to the front of the room. “Shala, I said you could go,” Glum said forcefully. Some of the typing from nearby terminals stopped.

 “I heard you,” Shala said. “But I need someone to sign this work order or submit a cancellation.” Shala made it through the last terminal and dusted off her thighs, scattering tiny fragments on the floor. About a dozen of the manager’s eyes zeroed in on the debris and developed small twitches. “Typically, the one who makes the work order has to be the one to cancel it,” Shala lied. The doing of the paperwork was all anyone really cared about, they never actually looked at it.

 “Well, it must have been placed by mistake,” the manager said, floating close and lowering her voice. Shala noticed some of the manager’s eyes were looking beyond her. She turned to see the Planarian had stood at his desk. “Give me the display,” the manager said and a ropey tendril stretched down to snatch the display from Shala’s hand. Shala jerked it away. “I’ll have you written up for insubordination,” the manager said, half her eyes knitting together in anger. Shala realized she had the upper hand. Exactly how and why, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to let it go.

 “I believe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” Shala said in a fake whisper. More of the typing stopped. Glum floated close to the manager and they traded glances, their dancing pupils making Shala dizzy. They floated away, and opened a nearby door, leading to a conference room. Shala strode slowly into the room and took a seat. The door closed and the two Oculum settled on the opposite side of the table. Shala smiled, leaning back. Whatever was happening with this Planarian, she was going to get a faulty work station of her own. And maybe a raise to boot.