LifeGames Corporatoin

by Michael Smorenburg

  Andrew leapt up and bolted for the door.

  Leon could hear the furor echoing down the passage and he was overcome by curiosity to investigate, but he thought it sensible to first end the session.

  Then he had a second thought, he decided that it would be best to ensure that Ken got some induced rest;

  “I’m going to count you up to five Ken, and as I count you will begin to awake. When I reach five you will feel wonderful, however, you won’t remember this conversation and you will be dead tired. All that you will want to do is sleep. All right…. One… you’re slowly beginning to wake up… Two…”

  After Leon had finished the routine, he waited a moment longer to ensure that Ken was comfortably asleep. Then he retreated to the door, watching Ken’s chest rise and fall in an even rhythm of relaxation. He exited, taking the security guard into the corridor with him.

  Beyond the closed door, he briefed them with his own set of instructions; “Mr. Torrington will probably be asleep until morning, wait here until someone tells you otherwise.”

  He departed at a trot, itching to see what was brewing in Roger’s ward.

  The scene that greeted Leon was akin to medieval barbarism than scientific medicine. Six hefty security guards were bodily restraining the patient who was straining with every sinew against the constraints of the straight jacket that he was being bundled into.

  Andrew was the impassive overseer who double-checked each broad leather-strap as it was fastened into place.

  “What are you going to do with him?” Leon asked, his mind already imagining the worst.

  “Nothing. We’ll have to let him cool off,” Andrew remained indifferent to his patient’s terror as he tended to the bloated shiner that his eye had become.

  “You’ve given him all that you can?” Leon mimed the use of a syringe.

  “Unfortunately. I suppose that you’d like to have a go at him with your hypnosis?” Andrew could see Leon’s disapproval of the prescribed methods.

  “Definitely, old boy… definitely,” Leon’s eyes were filled with challenge, the heat of doing battle with Ken had cooled and the quirky old genius was back within him, “I guess that he’s too excited for hypnosis at the moment. Too excited by far.”

  “How’s your one?” Andrew was too bitter about the knock he’d received to forgive Ken. He signaled his disdain by deliberately avoiding Ken’s name.

  “Out like a light, he is. Out like a light.”

  They stood a while longer, watching the tormented man’s weakening fight against his restraints.

  Back in Andrew’s office they dissected the evening’s startling twists of events until Andrew checked his watch, “Wow, almost eight! I’d better get a move on.”

  “Doesn’t time fly, when you’re having fun! Such fun,” Leon muttered as he rose.

  Chapter 8

  “I’ve been worried about him for some time, Nance,” Catherine puffed on the electronic cigarette she’d taken to using, trying to wean herself off of the bad stuff. The management at the trendy restaurant had cleared her use of it.

  She preferred Juicy, a brand with a distinct cherry signature; calling it her juice-stick;

  “I don’t want to peddle rumors, but Ken seems to have quite the little problem… his Columbian marching powder…” She put her juice-stick aside and added, “Not that it’s any of my business, but he’s got it all… he’s arrived. Why gamble it on addiction?”

  Her concern was sincere. She could speak freely with Nancy. The relationship between the two women had matured fast, over the past months they’d become close.

  Nancy’s expression looked pained; Ken had a manipulative way of welding people to him so that they cared for him as a friend.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone for a while. Two years ago when I joined, it wasn’t so obvious, but lately…. actually, over the past month, he’s been out of control with it.”

  “Well you know him a lot better than I do Nance, so if I’ve seen the deterioration, then it’s bad.”

  “And the mood swings? You never know what you’re getting. I used to accept them, thinking they go with the territory. But it’s become over the top,” Nancy’s expression and voice were despondent.

  “I’m with you… Everyone says he’s impossible. He’s been great to me… he knows precisely what he wants, and he nitpicks… fine… I can deal with that. But since this incident at the hospital, it’s like I don’t know him. He’s like a different person.”

  The way Catherine moved her eyes betrayed that emotion had crept in. Shit… she’s falling for him, Nancy realized with alarm. She reached across the table to take Catherine’s hand, “I’ve got a way with him, Cath…” then she added, “…whatever we speak of here, stays here… okay?”

  Catherine smiled appreciatively as she raised her head.

  They continued holding hands as Nancy went on;

  “The real deterioration began with Craig’s incident. The General was hospitalized the day before, creating Bedlam at the office… long-knives in the Boardroom.”

  “Sure…”

  “That’s very traumatic, but Ken’s not a regular human in that way… he’d never normally be phased by something like that. I’m sure you don’t know his back-story…? A lot of trauma. Really, and I mean truly bizarre and gory deaths of friends and family—it’s like he attracts it.”

  “Wow… that is news to me!”

  The warmth of the bond between the women elevated by their continued touch of hands. The tenderness stirred something in Catherine, it felt a little like the love of a sister she’d never had, but it was more than that too.

  They’d been meaning to dine together some time prior to the Craig incident, but somehow had never got around to it. For months their social calendars had been too frenetic for either of them to find a slot and make the time.

  Eventually, the weight of the prevailing circumstance had made it necessary to share mutual difficulties.

  Nancy kept recapping, “He understandably took the day off, the first day I’ve ever known him to stay out of the office. The place runs itself, but he won’t stay away for anything.”

  Catherine agreed.

  “Anyway, he took that day off. I left a message on his voicemail around five that evening. Remember? It was about your campaign review the following day.”

  Catherine nodded.

  “Ken was in the office early the next morning, cheerful enough in spite of all the calamities with Craig and the General, but nitpicking over what precise time or sequence one thing or another had occurred. He insisted that I dig up an old sample of Craig’s voice… made up a story about being sentimental and wanting to hear his old friend’s voice again… like…. seeeeeriously out of character. I played dumb… acted like it was a regular thing he would do.”

  “Weeeird…” Catherine encouraged, engrossed in the story.

  “He asked me to call Stuart our sound engineer up for a matter.”

  “I met him—I went down to call Ken for the review.”

  “Of course, yes. I directed you… odd thing is, Ken has nothing to do with the operations staff, Henry runs that.”

  Ken had impressed the strict chain of command on Catherine—his breaking of it was significant.

  “I confess it… I’ve got a naughty habit; I look on screens and I see every detail at a glimpse.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  They both laughed.

  “When I took coffee in, I saw Ken had an email from himself to himself with a sound file attachment. I’m an admin person, I know these things, and the file type was voicemail from his mobile… Why would you email yourself a voicemail, I wondered…?”

  “Probably to keep a record of it,” Catherine ventured.

  “Could be… I know Ken’s patterns and the way he works, and something definitely agitated him. He had me call Anton, our top programmer. Remember—Ken had missed a day and had a huge backlog, plus your review, yet he was cramming in
meetings that break protocol… I thought it really strange and out of character… some kind of prank Anton’s sorting out for Ken.”

  Ken had hinted to Catherine that there was good progress being made by the ‘programming department’ on their cyber-sex game and now as she silently connected the dots, she hoped that she wasn’t blushing.

  “Later that morning Stuart called me, bubbling with triumph. He asked me to tell Ken that ‘he had a match’. What kind of match?”

  Catherine loved to solve puzzles and this was a mind bender that sent the cogs and wheels of her mind churning, trying to link information.

  Nancy put forward her best hypothesis;

  “My guess is that there’s a connection between the time of day that I left the message on his voicemail, Craig’s voice on the dictation recordings, and the time that the General woke up in the hospital. I just haven’t figured out what it is.”

  “Whatever the match is, it didn’t make him too happy,” Catherine suggested, “I think that’s the day I went down to the sound-room; Ken and your sound man were playing a voice backward and asked if I knew what it was, it was obvious, so I said it and they acted like they’d hit the lottery… Ken kicked me out of the room in a buoyant mood. Twenty minutes later, when he came into the review his mood was very sour. Something must’ve gone wrong.”

  They considered that fact a while, failing to reach clarity.

  “So… was he matching his voicemail to my dictation files?”

  “Perhaps they didn’t match and that’s what upset him?” Catherine proposed, “I can’t imagine what recordings could contain that would upset Ken so much.”

  They pondered the point for a while before Nancy came up with another lead;

  “It wasn’t twenty minutes between you going down to the audio room and Ken emerging. Ken came up to his office within five minutes of me showing you down there. He seemed bewildered and grouched at me to get his tenth coffee of the morning. He looked like death, like he’d seen a ghost!”

  Nancy’s words sparked a memory flash in Catherine’s mind, “I paused before I went into the sound room, I was in a bit of a rush, but the sounds were so weird, goose bump stuff, they transfixed me. Then after they threw me out, I stood and listened again… they were up to something that gave me the creeps, Nance.”

  Nancy’s skin was prickling, hairs standing on end, “You know what that is? Backwards talking? It’s Satanic!”

  “Come on? Ken interested in spiritual stuff? I can’t see it.”

  “That’s what it is though,” Nancy was adamant.

  “You think he’s into a cult?” Catherine posed.

  They looked at one another, each entertaining the possibility. Then, simultaneously burst into peels of laughter at the improbability.

  “Henry came up to my desk earlier. He was full of mutters about Ken biting his head off. He said that the door wasn’t properly latched and he used the same word as you… ‘the weirdest sounds’ he said.” She paused and cocked her head. “Now I think about it… he said he heard Craig’s voice… said it was emphatic; ‘STOP’, but it was blended into a rumbling and ticking… the weird sound. He also said that it gave him the creeps. Huh!”

  Catherine was infected by Nancy’s strange account, the sounds once again echoing in her mind;

  “Sounds from one of your dictated recordings?”

  “I doubt it Cath, for security reasons all company recordings are locked and encrypted. I’ve never heard anything like what you and Henry described on Craig’s or any other recordings.”

  Catherine scowled, “What else is there…? The voicemail you saw…” she deduced, “a message from Craig? Could that explain Ken’s obsession with times and sequences of events?”

  “Oooh… this is intriguing…”

  They both took lingering sips of wine they considered the plausibility of their findings.

  “On the day the General melted down, the whole Executive holed up in the Board Room till nightfall—and we know Ken and Craig went back to the mansion… and then Craig’s death. Would it be a recording from that day that rattled him… if so, then why? If not, what’s the connection? I don’t think they ever socialized…”

  “Beyond me… maybe it’s nothing? Probably we can’t get to the bottom of this.”

  “But isn’t it fun trying…” Nancy rubbed her hands gleefully. “Okay… here’s another clue. Leon… our psych guy.”

  “Love him! Batty old coot.”

  “He was at the military hospital when Ken went loopy. Ken was off for three days, and for most of the next week too. Leon spent a lot of time at my desk, picking my brain about Ken and what had transpired. I told Leon everything I know… everything I won’t get fired for… and a bit more.”

  “I sense one can really trust him, good Karma.”

  “Very… Now, a penny’s just dropped in my mind; Leon mentioned a recording that Ken was too nervous to talk about. Wow…”

  “Big Wow!”

  “Leon had him hypnotized… said he became agitated. Leon think’s it’s very spiritual… thinks Ken’s somehow spiritually shaken.”

  “Quick recap… you said Henry also heard what I heard?”

  “Gave him the creeps… just like you… just like Ken… Fffflowers!”

  “Spooky…”

  On impulse, Catherine took her hand and cupped it; they kept holding hands, it was comforting and warm—like sisters. Like sisters… and perhaps something more.

  “Why’s everyone so terrified of this sound?”

  “Wait till you hear it.”

  “Don’t think I want to… seems to have put the fear of God into Stuart… our tech geek… both Leon and Henry said they can’t get a squeak out of him, and here’s the next twist; The only thing he’d volunteer was that it all has to do with a police investigation into Craig’s death!”

  They discussed the police connection and came to no firm conclusions, so Nancy continued;

  “Ken hauled Stuart over the coals for that leak; would have lost his job… in fact, he did, but Henry intervened and reinstated him… said he had ordered him to disclose the details… so there’s now a bigger rift in the Executive. Two camps.”

  “Sounds grrrreat for business… aren’t you all just the happy crew.”

  “Yeah… really! Since the incident the poor kid’s evidently not showed his face outside of his sound room. Ken’s also had an unholy blowout with Leon shortly after he came back to work.”

  “I got the impression that Ken thought quite highly of Leon?” Catherine asked.

  “He does. I think this is a temporary squabble between them… Leon definitely wasn’t fazed in the least, told me that it was just a perfectly normal reaction that Ken was experiencing.”

  “Any clues about their argument?” Catherine quizzed.

  “Yes… and I don’t have to suppose anything… Ken’s door is only three inches of solid teak and I heard every word… Let me correct that… I heard every word from Ken!”

  “That bad?”

  “That bad,” Nancy agreed, “Leon instigated the meeting himself, he asked me to hold all calls for either of them. I knew that he intended to speak to Ken about the hypnosis session and Ken’s drug problem.”

  Catherine withdrew her hand to fire up the juice-stick; it had been the first break since they’d touched, both so comfortable with the affection.

  Nancy kept explaining what she’d learned, leaving her hand where it lay, waiting for Catherine’s touch;

  “There was no sound from Ken’s office for about ten minutes after Leon went in, then I heard Ken’s voice beginning to rise, ranting about his confidence being betrayed and Leon’s snooping into business that didn’t concern him.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Then Ken began using language to make a sailor blush”

  “Sounds like we need to discipline him.”

  They were both a little tipsy and strung out by the intensity of conversation. Catherine’s silly innuendo sent them into a
fit of delighted chuckling.

  “In a nutshell,” Nancy still tittered, “Ken’s not real keen to be hypnotized by Leon again. I think he’s scared it makes him too honest.”

  Another burst of laughter.

  Their giggling infected other diners close by who periodically laughed in response to Nancy and Catherine’s mirth.

  “Ken’s effectively banned all of us from talking to him or one another about the recordings or anything else that undermines his authority’.”

  “Oh… isn’t that nice,” Catherine joked. “The guy is loosing it.”

  “Seriously… I’m worried,” Nancy agreed, hoping she was putting a spoke into any further affections Catherine might develop for her boss. He was below her.

  “And the General? News on him?”

  Officially, Catherine was supposed to be ignorant about the incident; Ken had smoothed it with the military top brass, so there was no threat of a leak or PR damage control.

  “I really don’t think that you want to know!” Nancy staged a shudder.

  “With a reaction like that, I insist on knowing. I’ll beat it out of you if you make me!”

  “Promises, promises,” Nancy teased, the wine talking.

  Catherine raised a seductive eyebrow, “Speak,” she ordered in a deep voice.

  Nancy obeyed, “Yes mistress… Leon’s been down to the hospital… for God’s sake don’t breathe a word of this to Ken… visiting the General is on the banned list, but the doctor at the hospital is intrigued and can’t stand Ken.”

  “Scout’s honor,” Catherine saluted with two fingers.

  “Well… Stephen King, just eat your heart out! What Leon’s uncovered is a real horror story…” she quaffed a glug of claret before continuing, “They’ve traced this Fernando Sanchez—the guy who the General thinks he is. He actually existed… was a real person… was the Spanish Emissary to Rome during the reign of Pope Urban the Eighth, in… yep… the year of our Lord 1630 until his delightful colleagues executed him by hanging in 1638! The Vatican keeps extensive records of these things, and you know old Leon, like a dog with a bone.”

  Catherine’s eyes grew larger with each alarming word that Nancy uttered. Finally, forgetting to breath, she choked and exploded into a fit of coughing.