by Kal Spriggs
James took me to Champion Enterprises headquarters in the morning of my first day. He had a slightly disapproving expression on his face as he held the door open for me. “Thank you, James,” I said to him. James and his wife were all the family that the Admiral had, I realized. They were all that had stayed with her through the years of her service. Impulsively, I gave him a hug.
For a moment, he went stiff, then he awkwardly patted me on the back. “Not a problem, miss. I think you'll do well enough, here. Not as well as you might elsewhere, but well enough.”
I knew that he meant the Academy. I wasn't entirely certain that I disagreed. Still, I was here. The decision was made.
“Thanks, say goodbye to Stacy and the Admiral for me,” I said. “And I will visit.”
He didn't reply to that, but I took up my bag and stepped through the glass doors and into the lobby of Champion Enterprises.
I'd never been here and the first thing that came to mind was how expensive the place must be. It was designed to impress, with a level of ostentatious wealth that even someone raised out on the edge of civilization couldn't miss. Polished granite floors swept out in a huge climate-controlled space, with sharp-looking kiosks spaced about and interactive holograms that identified me as I came in the door.
I didn't even talk to a real-live person before I'd been guided to an elevator, down several corridors, and into a tasteful office. I was early, I knew, but that was a habit ingrained upon me from the Prep School. To be early was to be on time, to be on time was to be late.
I compulsively checked my datapad for the time as I waited. Most of the other interns showed up a few minutes before the listed time. Two of them showed up five minutes late and three of them still hadn't arrived when the holographic figure appeared in the office to instruct us to proceed through the doors.
We entered into a large room, where each of us followed a lighted path tailored to the individual. I proceeded through administrative paperwork, into a quick medical exam, and then to a visual orientation of the building, all conducted by hologram, robots, and remotes. The whole process would have impressed me even a few months ago. It was smooth, calm, and without any stress at all. Yet it was so utterly impersonal that I felt not only powerless, but utterly unimportant.
I couldn't help but compare it to the Academy Prep School. There I had felt like a cog in a machine, but I had never felt as if I didn't matter. They had driven me hard and treated me rough, but I had never felt like I was a faceless piece of equipment, packed and shipped to its destination without any input or interaction.
After three hours, I finally stood outside an office with a real, live human receptionist. Three other interns had progressed to this point and they sat casually, one of them draped across a chair, and talked about what they had done over the summer. Their names, such that I caught, were Carlos, Trisha, and Ted. Trisha had apparently spent the summer on a beach and she was quite proud of her tan, going as far as to show both Carlos and Ted various portions of her anatomy that I thought was a little inappropriate for an office situation. Carlos had spent most of the summer off-world, on Fresca, with his uncle, where the drinking age wasn't enforced and he bragged about how much he had drank. He was the one sprawled out across several seats.
Ted, at least, voiced his opinion on how much time he had spent studying, but he seemed so caught up in the minutiae that I found myself tuning out his drone. While I'd found the accounting assignments difficult, I hadn't really spent much extra thought on why the assignment had emphasized certain data analysis. I had just done the assignment and moved on.
“... what I really liked was how the assignment was a good introduction to sales accounting, tracking and managing a clients portfolio from both ends, so that would make it easier to do taxes at the end of the year for the client while still giving a good accountability for areas to grow sales within that portfolio.” Ted didn't seem to notice that Carlos's head had gone back in a fake snore or that Trisha was adjusting her bra and makeup.
Trisha made me feel oddly grown up. Yes, I’d spent a few minutes trying to look my best, but I was confident in how I looked. I was in probably the best shape of my life and my hair had grown out, the bruises from the final exercise had faded thanks to the accelerated healing processes, and for the first time in almost five months I actually wore a little makeup.
“So,” Trisha said, “I really don’t know that I want to work this whole trimester, you know? I mean, think of all the good times that I’ll miss…”
Thankfully, before their various self-focused monologues could continue, the receptionist looked up. “Okay, everyone,” she said in a cheerful manner that sounded entirely fake to me, “Mister Aranka will see you now. Remember, he's the head of the internship program so be sure you give him your full and undivided attention.” She said the last with such a condescending tone that I gritted my teeth.
I led the way with a brisk walk and the others slouched along behind me.
The head of the internship program came forward and took my hand in a firm handshake, “Jiden Armstrong, good to have you here, I'm very impressed by your grades and particularly your performance at the Academy Prep School, I'm sure you'll do well here.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
“Oh, you can call me Gerald here in the office or Mister Aranka at a formal occasion, but we're pretty informal here in the executive offices.” Before I could reply he stepped over to grip the next person's hand. “Trisha Madera, it is great to see you! How is your father doing, I hear he's the senior partner now for for Madera, Matsuka, and Turagi. Do let him know that I appreciate the work his firm has done for us in the past.”
Apparently, Gerald had memorized something about all of us... and the internship program wasn't as exclusive in regards to performance as I had expected. I wonder if Trisha even graduated from school or if she's just here because her father? It was a nasty thought, but as the girl flirted shamelessly with Mister Aranka, I felt more than a little dismayed. I was here because I had worked hard, but apparently less was required of the right people.
Mister Aranka finished greeting the others and stepped back around his desk. “Now, we've tailored a perfect program for each of you, here. Our goal is to synergize your education and our business efforts in order to provide transformative improvement on your skills so that you are working in collaborative effort.”
I almost crossed my eyes as I tried to parse what he had said. Unless I was missing something, he had just said he wanted us to learn the basics while we worked as interns and then gain enough skills to actually contribute. I wasn't really sure why he hadn't just said that.
“Sounds great, Gerald,” Carlos said.
“I'm glad you think so, Carlos,” Gerald replied and then brought up a holographic display on his desk. “Now, Trisha and Carlos, you two will work in Human Resources for your first month, to better prepare you for the management track that we've identified for you. Ted, I know you have your heart set on accounting, but we wanted to start you off in budget analysis, since we think that will help you broaden your horizons.”
He looked over at me, “Oh, and Jiden, we've got a great program ready for you! We'll start you off at inventory as part of our logistics program.”
I couldn't help but open my mouth, “I thought I was selected for the engineer track.”
Mister Aranka's smile grew strained, “Well, ideally, yes, but we have a very heavy engineering presence in logistics and I think the synergistic link between those branches will aid in the expansion of your skills.”
“Okay,” I said and gave him the best fake smile I could manage, “You're the boss, right?”
“Right!” Mister Aranka said. “Now, then, I'll have Cindy prepare the holograms to guide you to the department heads. They'll be expecting you, don't worry.”
I found myself back out in the office. I watched Trisha and Carlos walk out, both in discussion of the best places to catch an early lunch. Inside, I fumed. This was not
the way it was supposed to be. I'd been accepted for the engineering program. That was what my papers said. Logistics was a fancy way to say moving stuff and that wasn't what I wanted. I mean, sure commanding a ship wouldn't be bad... but that wasn't what this sounded like. It sounded like I'd be managing stock in a warehouse or something. Besides, ship handling was a whole different department, if I remembered right.
This was only my first day and I already felt out of place and off balance. Had I made a mistake? What if Alexander Karmazin was right, what if I should have gone to the Academy?
Ted cleared his throat next to me, “Uh, hey, Jiden, right?”
I turned my gaze his way, “Yes.”
“Well, I couldn't help but overhear you're going to inventory. I think that's really great. Would you like to catch lunch on the way? I figure we could discuss the assignments they gave us, I remember the inventory catalog index they recommended we study. If you want I could give you some pointers,” Ted sounded almost desperate. I wondered if Trisha or someone like her had convinced him to help do her assignments.
I gave him a pained smile, “I'm good, thanks. I want to try to meet my department head before lunch.”
“Oh,” Ted said, “well, I'll ping your datapad with my contact info, just in case you change your mind. See you later.”
I turned away before he could say anything else. What I wanted to do was pull my hair and scream. What I did instead was follow my hologram towards inventory.
Please, I thought, please let this get better.
***
Charles Effron, the Department Head for Inventory, was out to lunch. At least, that was what his automated message told me when I arrived outside his door. It had an emergency contact number, but I didn't think this warranted that level of involvement.
I wasn't really sure what to do. I was supposed to spend the mornings in classes as part of my training and the afternoons working in the new department, at least, that was what the newcomer's packet on my datapad told me. If I were at the Academy, somehow I knew there would be someone around to put me to work or at least tell me where to go. Here, it felt like I wasn't important enough to warrant that.
I was tempted to just go and get lunch and maybe to drop my bag off at my new apartment, but I wasn't sure if I had that kind of time. If the department head had gone to lunch already, then I would guess he had to go early for some reason, possibly because he had some project that required him to work through lunch later on. If that was the case, he might want me here. This might, in fact, be a test of some kind.
As I pondered that, I heard a familiar voice from behind me, “Jiden, hey, glad I finally caught up to you.”
I turned to find Tony, a broad smile plastered on his face. He still had the spiky hair from almost five months ago. He had also put on some weight. Where before I thought he looked kind of silly, like a hedgehog, now he looked more porcine. Despite my irritation, I gave him a return smile. “Hey, Tony, glad you're here. I've got a few questions...”
“Yeah, I'll show you the whole place,” he said with a smirk. Something about his tone made me even more irritated, it was like he was humoring me. He took me by the arm and started to lead me down the hall, “Ain't it great that you're here in Inventory? I had my dad shift your track around a bit, you almost ended up in engineering… can you believe it?”
I gritted my teeth in sudden irritation, “Tony, I wanted to be in engineering.”
“That bunch of gear heads?” Tony shook his head, “Trust me, you're better off here. The work load is a lot easier and the benefits are better, too.” He had a knowing look, like he knew some secret that amused him. I knew that look, though, I wouldn't pry it out of him until he wanted me to know.
I forced myself to smile, he had tried to help in his own way, “Well, can I get that flipped back? It might be a higher workload, but I think I can manage it and I can still hang out with you off hours.”
He smiled back and I didn't miss how his hand stroked my arm a bit, “Of course, Jiden. Though, I was just thinking that for the first trimester you could work here, where I'm at, so I could help you get your feet under you, you know? The lighter workload would let you focus on your studies and lots of people switch tracks after they really get a chance to see how things work here.”
I found myself nodding. That made a certain level of sense and maybe working around Tony would help me avoid some of the irritating things here and focus on the good. “Okay,” I said, “We'll try that out. When should I meet with Mister Effren, will he be back any time soon or should I meet with him after lunch?”
Tony snorted at that, “Oh, Chuck? He plays golf with my dad all day on Mondays and Wednesdays. Nah, I wouldn't worry about talking to him until tomorrow, if you can even find him. He spends a lot of time over at Logistics Branch, anyway, he's working hard for a promotion so he's increasing his visibility.”
I felt my stomach sink at that. As a whole, it was not what I had hoped to hear. If Charles Effren spent two days of the week out of the office, then I couldn't imagine he had much to keep him busy. Given what Tony had said, I wasn't certain that I would have enough to keep me busy. And if he spent the rest of his time out of the office, just what was there for him to manage? While I appreciated Tony's thought that I might need extra time, I wasn't certain I wanted to be thought of as needing that extra time. If Inventory was where they sent the dead-heads, then I didn't want to be associated with them.
For that matter, I wasn't certain I wanted to work for someone who took up such a wasteful hobby as golf. I couldn't imagine how expensive golfing would be here on Century, where water was a precious commodity. In fact, the very thought of how wasteful an outdoor course would be made me wince as I thought about water rationing down at Black Mesa. Down there we measured the precious substance down to the milliliter, just in case of emergency.
Here in Duncan City, I knew there was quite a bit more leeway, but most residents still carefully monitored its use and almost all Earth-origin vegetation remained in greenhouses where they could prevent the loss of water.
The couple pictures I had seen of golf courses on other worlds had shown vast expanses of green grass, a luxury that no one but the most obscenely wealthy might afford here.
Tony had continued to chatter, “...think you should just check in with Terry, he's the primary inventory manager here. He can get you involved in the nuts and bolts, which looks good on your professional profile and it is best to get that out of the way early on, when they don't expect much of you. That way, later on you can do some of the more fun things, you know? I'm working up in refurbishing, a special project for Chuck and my dad, actually. That's a pretty good gig...” He trailed off and shot me a look, “but I shouldn't talk about it, confidential, you know?”
“Really?” I asked. “That's nice.” Right now I didn't care about his confidential project, I was still struggling with how nothing here was quite how I had hoped.
“Yeah,” Tony said with a smirk, “Believe me, once you earn the right level of trust, there are lots of opportunities here. I may even be graduating the Internship Program ahead of schedule, my dad is even talking assistant department head, right out the door.”
My eyebrows went up at that. The Internship Program normally took two years. After that, they typically only took someone on as a probationary employee for another year before they progressed any further. What Tony had suggested would put him at least three years, maybe even five, ahead of his peers. Ahead of me, too, I thought. I liked Tony well enough as a friend, I'd even considered the possibility of him as more than a friend, but I felt uneasy about the possibility that I might be working for him, not just for a short time, but possibly for the rest of our careers.
“I hadn't realized your dad had so much influence over that kind of thing,” I said.
“Oh,” Tony said with a wave of his hand, “He's not working the Internship Program any more, but Jerry Aranka does and he and my dad golf on Fridays and my dad's word carri
es a bit of weight, you know? So I'm on the up and up, especially with the work I'm doing.”
“Okay,” I said. Apparently Tony had found a way to game the system or maybe the system was designed to favor him, like it had with Carlos and Trisha.
“Don't worry, Jiden,” Tony said with a low voice, “I'm sure I can work something out with you once that goes through...” His smile suggested things that made his hand on my arm feel rather slimy.
I shook his hand off and I saw something ugly flash across his face. “Uh,” I said quickly, “I just thought of something, I think I left my badge back at the office. I should probably go get it.” I gave him a nervous smile, as if I felt embarrassed.
Tony smiled back, “Sure thing,” he said. “Tell you what, I've got to run anyway, I'll ping your datapad with directions to Terry's office. Just tell him I sent you down and he'll line you up with some work. Maybe we could meet up tonight afterward?”
“Maybe,” I said, “I want to pull out all the course work and go over it and then get settled into my apartment.” It wasn't a lie, not really. I did want to do all of that, but I also felt like I needed some time to think things through. Nothing here was how I had imagined it. I had to either come to terms with that or...
My mind shuddered away from the alternative. I had some time, I knew. I mean, I hadn't exactly settled into life at the Academy Prep School in record time.
But that was a different kind of stress, a small voice spoke in the back of my mind. Shut up, I thought back at it sullenly, I can make this work.
“Well,” Tony said, oblivious to my internal dilemma, “Maybe tomorrow then.”
***
Terry Smith, the primary inventory manager, was a short, mousy-looking man. He didn't look up from his computer as I stepped into the office. “Intern?” He asked, his voice flat and bored.
