In the Gleaming Light

by H. R. Moore

  ‘Oh?’ said Marvin, surprised. ‘I’ll come with you then.’

  ‘Ah, I wouldn’t do that,’ said Thomas, firmly. ‘He’s requested a meeting with me only, and you know how he is.’

  ‘He said that specifically?’ asked Marvin, not bothering to hide the edge of mistrust.

  ‘He did,’ replied Thomas, lying through his teeth. Thomas had requested the meeting with Richard, not the other way around. ‘And I really need to get going, otherwise I’m going to be late.’

  * * * * *

  Marvin watched Thomas go, barely noticing as a robot approached and handed him a rare sheet of paper. ‘Thank you,’ said Marvin. Although he couldn’t deny the advantages of technology, there was nothing like a large printed sheet, upon which you could annotate freely. Paper made him happy; it was real and tangible and sedate, and, importantly, couldn’t be hacked. He had a large collection of diaries, notebooks and fine writing paper at home, and relished scratching away with a fountain pen whenever he had some free time.

  Of course, one did not admit these things in a workplace such as this. One was encouraged to “bring one’s whole self to work”, but one most certainly only did that if that whole self matched the corporate ideal. Marvin presumed there were other workplaces where the cultures were more inclusive and open, as they all spouted they were. But, these days, technology companies had the most complex accounting landscape of any industry, and that was what he looked for in employment: a good old-fashioned intellectual challenge.

  * * * * *

  ‘Ah, Thomas,’ said Richard. Richard’s colossal and lavish office took up three sides of the penthouse level, and had a series of areas in which Richard hosted employees, clients, and shareholders. The area you were allotted indicated a combination of how far up the food chain you were and Richard’s mood on any given day. Richard got up from behind his mahogany desk. Not very ‘tech CEO’, Thomas thought, as always, shaking Richard’s hand. He was ushered to a plush, relaxed seating area with sofas set up like they were in the Oval Office, complete with coffee table in the middle.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ asked Richard, his butler stationary in a far corner, waiting to spring into action when called.

  ‘No, thank you,’ replied Thomas. ‘Thank you for dinner the other evening,’ he started, although, of course, he had already thanked Richard digitally. ‘It was great to meet Sabrina,’ he said with an easy smile. ‘She’s quite a character.’

  ‘Christ,’ laughed Richard, ‘that’s one way to put it. She’s always been a bloody handful, that one. Wish she would just get a job; I think if she had more to occupy her time, it might straighten her out a bit. But she won’t be told; stubborn as a mule. Anyway,’ he said, giving Thomas a stern look, ‘what’s all this about then? It’s been a while since someone refused to let me know the purpose of a meeting ahead of time.’

  Thomas didn’t miss the undertone: this had better be good, at least if you ever want to play tennis with me again...‘It’s Marvin,’ said Thomas, looking down as though this were all a little embarrassing, or maybe just to keep it from being too obvious that his heart was thundering in his ears.

  ‘Oh?’ said Richard, disappointed. ‘Go on then. What is it?’

  ‘Well, it’s delicate,’ said Thomas, apologetically.

  ‘Do get to the point,’ snapped Richard, although he leaned forward a little in his seat.

  ‘I may as well just show you,’ said Thomas, pulling out his smart glasses and projecting onto the nearest wall. ‘As we know, Marvin is a little odd, and kind of stuck in the past. Aside from his fixation with the old world and all things paper-based, he’s also been helping small companies get around their tax responsibilities. Apparently, he thinks it’s unfair that small enterprises are taxed at all, given their social contribution, and so, has become an expert at helping them dodge it. He even does it for free, like some kind of hobby.’

  ‘Is it illegal?’ asked Richard.

  ‘Yes, some of it,’ said Thomas, showing Richard communications from Marvin to the CEO of a small creative agency.

  ‘He sets out the options for the CEO here,’ said Richard, making the messages scroll with his own smart glasses as he read, ‘and tells him the legal implications of each option, but he doesn’t advise the CEO to follow the route that breaks the law.’ Richard was gearing up to dismiss the message, and probably Thomas, out of hand.

  ‘Yes, in this one,’ said Thomas, hurriedly pulling up another document: the creative agency’s annual accounts. ‘But here, he said, highlighting an area of the accounts, ‘they’ve followed Marvin’s dodgy advice, and here,’ he said, scrolling to the bottom, ‘he’s signed off on them, certifying that they’ve been completed accurately. Of course, to get around the AI checks after submission, they’ve lied in a number of areas. Marvin’s really very good at this; he’s turned it into an art form.’

  ‘This is illegal?’ Richard asked again.

  Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, entirely illegal,’ he replied, confidently.

  ‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Richard. ‘I thought we were safe with someone like Marvin, at least in the realms of staying strictly within the law. I thought the biggest risk with him was being bored to death.’ Richard laughed loudly. ‘However, it would look like I was wrong on that front too. I should ask him to regale us with some tax-dodging close shaves; I’m sure he must have some good ones.’

  Thomas nodded. ‘He would have had to learn his craft. I mean, from an accounting standpoint, he’s pretty much a genius, but I bet he’s had some fascinating near misses.’

  Richard went quiet while he mulled over the evidence. He took his time, the extended silence considered by him to be totally normal, but considered by Thomas to be nothing short of excruciating. This was one area of hanging out with senior managers he hadn’t quite become accustomed to yet: being comfortable with long, thick, thinking silences. He shifted uncomfortably, then chastised himself, telling himself to sit still and pretend to be relaxed.

  Richard eventually looked up. ‘Where did you get this information?’ he asked, a dark shadow behind his eyes.

  Thomas had his answer ready. ‘Someone printed it out and posted it through my door,’ he said, shrugging, as though he were equally perplexed by the whole thing. ‘I scanned the paper for fingerprints, but there weren’t any. And there was no DNA left on the sheets, nothing to help indicate where it had come from.’

  ‘They probably got a robot to do it,’ said Richard, ‘whoever they are.’

  ‘I keep trying to imagine who would have motive to tell me about Marvin’s activities, instead of just shopping him to the police. I can only think it might be someone he helped avoid tax, maybe someone who’s now being investigated. They wouldn’t be able to expose Marvin to the authorities without admitting their own guilt. Or maybe he made himself a corporate enemy. Either way, I thought it prudent to keep this quiet. With all the heat we’ve had on the company recently, I didn’t think you’d want another scandal. Sorry for the secrecy.’

  ‘Of course, I completely understand,’ said Richard, waving his hand as though it were a trifle. ‘The question is how to handle his departure. There’s no way we can keep him now,’ he continued, thinking out loud. ‘You have checked this out, haven’t you?’ said Richard, turning sharp eyes onto Thomas, pinning him under his gaze, searching for any malicious intent, or untruth, or general shiftiness.

  Thomas was ready for this too; Richard had been around a long time, had seen his fair share of takedowns, and Thomas had never bothered to hide his ambition. And it had been, after all, one of Richard’s biggest competitors who’d convinced him to employ Thomas in the first place. This was the problem with having to place your friends and family in companies belonging to friends, rather than your own; you never knew who you could trust or where their true loyalties lay. But Thomas knew he was almost over the line, he just had to dig in for the final push.

  ‘Yes,’ said Thomas, pulling up a webpage with his glasses. ‘Here you can see
the accounts were filed with Companies House, and they match the documents sent to me. I can’t substantiate the messages, as I don’t have access to his personal server, but I did ask a close friend of mine to approach him as a prospective client.’

  ‘And Marvin was willing to help them break the law,’ said Richard, knowing how the story would end.

  ‘Yes,’ said Thomas, simply.

  ‘And this friend,’ said Richard, looking intently at Thomas, his face a careful mask.

  ‘Yes?’ said Thomas, when Richard paused.

  ‘He or she would be willing to go on record to testify?’

  Thomas stopped, considering his answer; he hadn’t expected Richard to ask this. He wasn’t usually so much of a detail person. He considered giving a vague answer, as, the truth was, Thomas wasn’t sure he could get his friend to testify. But Thomas could smell blood, all it would take was confidence from him. ‘Absolutely,’ he replied, ‘although I shouldn’t have thought it’ll come to that. Marvin’s going to want to keep this quiet and that’s in our interests too.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Richard, reassured. ‘Decision made. Go and find Marvin and send him up please. I’ll tell him that he’s fired, effective immediately. Thank goodness for the relaxed labour laws now everyone’s entitled to UBI; it wasn’t so simple to get rid of someone back when I first started, let me tell you,’ said Richard, reminiscing. ‘You had to pay people off, or “manage them out,” God-awful process that was. Went on for months, took up more time than it bears thinking about, and all the while, you had to carry someone useless in your team. Much better now, thank the Lord. Anyway,’ said Richard, getting up from his sofa, a clear signal to Thomas that it was time to leave.

  ‘Ah,’ said Thomas, trying to slow down his exit enough to ask the only real question he was interested in the answer to.

  Richard laughed. ‘Christ. Cutthroat to the core,’ he said, clapping Thomas on the back. ‘I’ll announce you as interim CFO when I make the announcement about Marvin stepping down.’

  Thomas’ mind was racing. ‘Thank you,’ he said, carefully. ‘But maybe it would be best to hold off making the announcement about me until the dust has settled around Marvin?’

  ‘Why on earth would that help anything?’ said Richard, suddenly suspicious. ‘What angle are you working?’

  Thomas flushed, cursing the involuntary reddening of his face. ‘I don’t have an angle,’ he replied, trying to keep his voice conversational, trying to suppress the rush of blood in his ears. ‘I just thought it might be less of a surprise for the rest of the accounts team if my appointment was made after they’d got over the shock of Marvin leaving.’

  ‘Your appointment is as interim CFO,’ said Richard, firmly, emphasising the possible temporary nature of the role. ‘Announcing it will add a layer of stability and reassurance, showing there will be continued financial leadership here, and showing strong leadership and planning from me. Not announcing it will leave a big gaping question mark over our finances. If you’d be more comfortable with me appointing someone else, I totally understand,’ he added, in a warning tone. ‘I know it’s a big step up for you, especially as you’ve only just been made deputy finance director.’

  Thomas took the threat graciously. ‘Of course, you’re right,’ he said, ‘it’s better to make both announcements together. I’ll go and ask Marvin to come up here straight away.’

  ‘Good. That’s settled then,’ said Richard, the warning still in his voice, letting Thomas know that he’d be under scrutiny for a while. ‘Anton,’ he said, to his butlerbot, ‘put everything in place to terminate Marvin’s employment with us, effective immediately.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Anton replied, the work done mere moments after it was initiated.

  ‘We have legal basis to do this, yes?’ Richard asked.

  ‘Yes, sir, absolutely,’ said Anton. ‘I’ve double checked the evidence, and found a number of similar examples in other accounts approved by Marvin. Everything is ready to go as soon as you say the word.’

  ‘Good. Go and get him then,’ said Richard, dismissing Thomas, his tone still harsh. ‘And Anton,’ said Richard, sitting down at his desk, exhaling wearily, ‘compile a list of possible replacements. Marvin’s only been here for two bloody minutes, so try and find someone who’s likely to have longevity, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir,’ said Anton.

  Idiot, thought Thomas, leaving Richard’s office as quickly as was dignified, although not sure whether the word was more appropriate in reference to himself or his boss. He breathed a big sigh of relief as he entered the lift, leaning heavily against the hand rail, feeling as though he’d just come out of a boxing ring. He relaxed as the adrenaline ebbed away, considering how he would deliver the unfortunate Marvin his marching orders, playing the scenario over in his mind. It was almost a shame, Thomas mused, to see Marvin go; Marvin could have taught him a few tricks, he was sure. And now he knew about Marvin’s criminal alter ego, he’d finally developed some respect for the surprising little man.

  * * * * *

  The lift pinged, and Thomas wondered why that annoying noise had never been changed. He walked out onto the office floor and surveyed the scene. There were robots mixed in with people, some who had literally just taken the place of workers, although considerably less of them were needed to get through the same volume of work. And, of course, the robots were all linked up with each other, and with remote servers elsewhere, where the bulk of the real work was done. The robots themselves were mainly for inputs and outputs, and to improve the workplace experience for human employees. Management had mostly opted to make the robots look as human as possible, and interact with their fellow workers in the traditional way, doing everything they could to make the office environment feel comfortable.

  And then there were robots who had face-like screens as heads, projecting the faces of co-workers who were working remotely, making it feel like they were actually there in the office. These robots wandered around between desks, morphing into different personalities, taking on the voice, and perfectly mimicking the mannerisms of the person on the screen. Many had been caught out having conversations about a colleague, not realising that the robot standing over their shoulder was streaming their conversation directly to that colleague. People had learned to be cautious, and the office was a less vibrant place because of it.

  This floor, which had, twenty years earlier, housed only one function, now housed all support functions at the company. Human Resources, Legal, Accounting, Marketing, IT, Facilities, all sat on this one floor, and even then, it was mostly just robots. The company had given the engineers, creatives, strategists, project managers, sales teams, and general managers as much space as they could use on the other floors, but, even so, and with the addition of a pool in the basement, and a gym on the first floor, they had had to lease out many floors’ worth of spare space to other companies. Office buildings all across the country, which had once been buzzing hives of activity, were now full of robots, or being converted into housing, or community centres, or, in some cases, had simply had to be knocked down.

  People had free rein to work from home, from a holiday destination, or from wherever they happened to be. No longer did they have to check in with a manager to make sure it was okay to work remotely, nor did they have to work set hours, nor schedule holiday around the needs of colleagues. People could virtually do as they pleased. Job shares were often utilised for people who wanted high-powered jobs but without having to work full time. Both men and women took advantage of this, and people were measured on their ability to get work done, contribute to the team effort, and be available when needed, as opposed to physical hours spent in the office.

  Companies couldn’t, however, get away from the fact that the human-dominated functions operated far more effectively when people were situated together. Engineering, for example, was dominated by people, although of course they used AI to help them. Most of the engineers needed to come into th
e office to use the state-of-the-art facilities, and they developed much stronger relationships with the rest of their team as a result. Even human-dominated teams, where most people worked remotely, had higher morale than teams where robots dominated. You had a higher chance of finding someone you liked in a bigger group of real people, and human interaction would forever be a major part of what made a job enjoyable. Of course, for all functions, big meetings and workshop sessions still took place, where everyone had to physically attend, but these sessions were few and far between.

  Thomas, knowing that deep down, Richard harked back to the ‘good old days’ on pretty much every topic, knew that it was worth trekking into the office whenever possible. He still worked from home regularly, but tried to ensure it coincided with when Richard wasn’t about. That was one of the mistakes people made these days; they forgot that ‘out of sight’ can easily mean ‘out of mind,’ and chance encounters with the executive team around the building played a bigger part in promotions than pretty much anything else. Sure, if you did a good job in a big presentation, or invented something ground-breaking, you would be in management’s good books for a while, but nothing could replace banter in the lift, or a conversation about a shared sporting interest in the canteen. The face robots had gone some way to combat this, as had the objective analysis the robots completed at regular intervals on each person’s personal performance, but nothing could replace basic human proximity and interaction.

  Thomas breathed deeply as he walked across the floor. It was soulless and depressing and he longed to be somewhere else; there was nobody here he could relate to. He spotted Marvin and made a beeline for him, interested to see how he would react.

  ‘Marvin,’ said Thomas, as he reached Marvin’s work station.

  ‘Come to deliver the bad news?’ asked Marvin, chirpily, taking the wind out of Thomas’ sails.