by Tal Turing
Patron had been the one who had signed his name on her Sponsorship contract when and, years later, he was the one who shook her hand and slipped her a ceremonial scroll upon her graduation in corporate studies. For the time in between, they had had little contact. She had once met the man and his wife at a party and he had been very pleasant. Another time, he had called her a stupid cow and told her to get the hell away from him. When it had been announced that she would be sent away to Techview to train in Hospitality, she was not sure if he was doing her a favor or not. But she was happy all the same.
“Patron? Excuse me, I've just arrived and I must report. It's important.”
Cyn realized that his response might be dismissive or worse. But years of Techview Operations work had conditioned her to one fact. If you have something to say, say it. If you have something to report, report it. It wasn't that she didn't sometimes fear the reactions of her Techview handlers including and especially Mother. But she knew the reaction could much worse if she failed to report or withheld information. She had to assume that Patron had similar philosophies.
The large man had stepped into a meeting room and had turned, confused to hear his name called by someone he did not recognize, a woman. Her eyes met his.
A man tried to block her, moving into her path, but she feigned left and then slipped around him to his right, easily. Another push off her right foot launched her into the air, toward the threshold of the meeting room. She would not need much time.
The look on his face was strange to her, he was no longer confused, but there was something else. Her body had almost reached the threshold to the meeting room when something hit her, hard, just below her collarbone. She felt some air leave her chest from the blow and she fell backwards. Her back hit the floor, forcing the rest of the air from her lungs.
She lay on the ground, gasping for breath. Then she felt someone grab her ankle and drag her along the floor, the rug burning her bare skin, her dress hiked upwards even as she wheezed. She caught only a quick glimpse of the stoic Patron and she recognized another in his entourage. It was the tall, white-haired, man from the limo.
She was easily lifted into the air and pinned between two black-armored security officers. They moved her quickly down a series of hallways before she was thrown into a metal chair within a small room and a shock noose tossed around her neck. She knew enough about that device to remain still.
For what seemed like hours, Cynnamon was read Transom - New Berlyn security protocols and interrogated as to why she had not worn her external AI. Then another officer entered the room and the process was repeated.
She protested politely, stating that she was an operations asset, had been reassigned to New Berlyn and that she needed to report to someone within operations.
They were unconcerned by her remarks and the best she was able to do was extract the location of an operations office where her report might be processed. But she was not able to leave until she agreed, once again, to follow all security procedures including not approaching Patron or any Transom executive without permission. She agreed, her fingers rubbing the tender spot in the center of her breastbone where the large armored fist had slammed into her.
Fortunately, she was able to find the Operations office without her forgotten AI. Unfortunately, the area was devoid of people.
Cyn realized it had been a big mistake to leave her AI behind, but she was unwilling to take the time to fetch it and miss the chance to report and get some information. She slipped into a chair within the empty office and waited. No one returned.
The room was cold and it did not help that she had chosen a short, almost skimpy, summer dress. She crossed her legs, pressing her thighs tightly together and then wrapping her calves close as well. Finally, in an effort to warm herself, Cyn wrapped her arms around her knees. She felt silly and uncomfortable but closed her eyes for only a moment.
But that was enough for her tired body to fall asleep and whisk her consciousness far away from Transom Dome.
Edwyrd
“Looks like your women need some refreshers, Eddie!” the voice mocked.
Ed pulled his head out of virtual space and its sea of reports and dashboards. He was seated in a chair, his black Transom security uniform matching his visor and boots. He looked over as the men spilled out of the executive conference room and some of them walked his way. His eldest brother being one of them.
Ed did not stand as Steve approached; years of anger management therapy had helped him realize that standing to face a tormentor was a trigger, it emphasized his shorter stature and threatened him. Ed didn't like to be threatened.
Instead, he remained sitting and inspected the group of executives as they dispersed. Steve was not an executive, but somehow had found a way to gain access to the restricted meeting, a fact which annoyed Ed.
Walking ahead of Steve, was Patron, a large, powerfully built man, their biological father. Steve was taller than average and with them was another executive, a man from Techview who was also tall. The sight of the larger men descending on him fired another round of triggers but he remained seated and fought it off.
Ed ignored the comment and instead confirmed the identify of the tall, white-haired man. He was Tym Matheson, a member of Transom-Techview's Strategy and Corporate Relations division, an executive. It was rare to find a Techview executive in the third city. Perhaps he was here to oversee Steve, a thought that made Edwyrd smile. Steve did not enjoy being taught.
Steve stood before him, awaiting a response. And Edwyrd knew the origin of the jibe. Some damn asset, fresh off the train from Techview, had tried to barge into that meeting, an executive meeting. She was Transom, but still it looked bad, fortunately one of his men had intervened, took her to the brig and read her the riot act. No harm, no foul. BUT, and it was a big but, Ed had not known about this visitor and it was his job to know such things. Nothing bugged him more than information withheld.
He stood, walked past his brother, toward Patron. His father looked miffed, an expression which had become common place in recent weeks. But screw it, Ed couldn't care less about the mood of the head of operations, this was a security matter.
“Patron, why did we not know about this import help from Techview? None of the proper procedures were followed, if we had been briefed, the asset would have been properly on-boarded...I should have been informed and if it happens a second time...”
“Later,” Patron dismissed the complaint and walked on.
Ed watched him go and looked annoyed, an expression which came naturally but in the last year he had learned to manufacture it when needed and he did so now. In truth, the brush-off did not bother him, his father was not the sort who needed to be clubbed over the head, he would understand Ed's point even if he did not agree with it and now he knew Ed's position on the matter. Patron may be the head of operations but Edwyrd was the Deputy of Security and did not answer to anyone in ops. Patron had heard the threat, his response meant that it was a one-off or that Patron would come and explain. Ed's preference was that he do both.
“Is this import another supposed example of Techview know-how?” Steve raised his voice, following Patron, “Or is she here due to a presumed local loyalty?”
Patron grunted, walking off. Steve did not try to catch him, but pretended that he somehow received a satisfactory response and turned back toward his little brother.
“We'll let you in when it's time, Eddie,” Steve explained.
Bullshit. Ed simmered and fought to keep his anger in check. A year ago, he would have concluded that Steve was intentionally provoking him. But he had changed his view; now he realized that Steve only occasionally provoked, that Steve really believed his own crap, his own lies.
“See Eddie?” Steve continued, “Patron hates it when it looks like things are not running smoothly and your little security mistake will keep his blood pressure up for weeks now. You really need...”
“Stop calling me Eddie, brother,” Ed spat coldly.
Brad, the middle of Patron's three sons, the peacemaker, approached with his signature warm smile. If not for Brad, the family may have already destroyed itself, especially after the death of their mother.
Brad looked Ed in the eye, trying to gauge his mood and Ed gave him a wink, promising not to start anything. Then he turned back to Steve.
“By the way, how did you get in that meeting, Steve?” Ed demanded, “Executives only, right? Dreams don't count.”
“Patron wanted my advice,” Steve replied.
There it was, Ed realized. This statement irked him, but Steve was not provoking. He believed it. Still for whatever reason, Patron has somehow been persuaded to allow Steve in, despite his own rules against non-executives. But why? Did Steve actually have something on Patron? On the head of operations?
Now, in the back corner of his mind, for the first time in his life, Edwyrd Harilla, Deputy of Transom Security in New Berlyn, considered that his elder brother was dangerously flawed, a threat, in multiple ways, perhaps fatally flawed.
“I'm hungry, let's get to dinner,” complained Brad who headed off, leaving the remaining brothers to follow.
“So,” Steve began, switching topics, and looking at Ed as they walked. “What happened to that little girl you were hanging out with? Abril?”
Now he was simply being provocative, Ed decided as he responded. “She asked too many questions about work. I don't like that. I warned her.”
“It's even more dangerous in corporate relations but you don't see me complaining. You have to learn how to handle curious females.” Steve replied.
“You might be underestimating how much your so called corporate contacts are learning from you...” Ed hit back.
“It's called strategy and corporate relations for a reason, Eddie,” Steve schooled him.
Ed decided that Steve was not provoking him by calling him 'Eddie'. He was in his teaching mode and in that role, everyone was a child to Stephen Harilla.
“Keeping our enemies close is part of the job...” Steve concluded his instruction.
Agreed brother, Edwyrd thought darkly.
At dinner, the conversation was dominated by Steve's theories of current business affairs. His babbling seemed to tire even Patron who resigned himself to fuming, picking at his food and waiting for Steve's tongue to tire.
“Who is this Matheson?” Ed spoke up. He was actually curious but he also realized it would put Steve on the defensive.
“Techview is more than a little impressed with our successes,” Steve replied, without even the smallest hesitation. “They want to observe how we are doing things in Strategy.”
“Is that right, Patron?” Ed asked, suppressing a smirk.
A younger Patron might have laughed, or smiled, Ed realized. But this one was tired or sick of it. Or both.
“He is an adviser,” Patron grunted, “he will make recommendations when his time here is over. If we are to surpass the First City, we have to learn from their strengths.”
Steve laughed. It made no sense to him.
Ed considered. An adviser? An observer? It seemed strange that Techview would send one of their own executives. Perhaps he had another purpose. Perhaps he was a spy.
The Asset from Techview
When dinner was over, most of the staff scurried off; Patron, Tym Matheson and Lysander Barrett headed off for another meeting leaving the three Harilla brothers to themselves. Ed theorized that Steve would have tried to tag along with the heavy-weights except that he himself had arranged a corporate social, an outing with members of another company, the kind of thing that Steve always justified as 'corporate relations'. It was the type of event Ed would normally avoid but Brad insisted it would be fun.
“I need to drop by the office before we leave,” Brad explained and Ed changed direction and led them toward Brad's office. As the trio rounded the corner Ed slowed to a stop.
Seated in a lone chair, outside the office, was a young woman, jet black hair, olive skin, her long lashed eyes closed gently, her lips pursed. She was asleep.
What the hell? Ed fumed. His AI had not received any pings, so her AI was either off or, worse, discarded. He knew this person, this asset. And now he realized that Steve had intentionally not told him who it was that had crashed Patron's meeting. Ed hated these types of surprises.
“Oops, I guess I should have put up a notice that the office was closed for the day,” Brad spoke and then he whispered, “Remember her, Eddie? Is she the one who tried to break into Patron's meeting?”
Ed realized that Brad recognized her as well. They all knew her from a long time ago, from corporate training.
“Hellooooo Cynnamon C334,” Steve spoke loudly to the asset from his vantage point. Naturally he remembered her, he even remembered her ID.
When they were younger, Steve bragged that he had an eidetic memory, able to instantly recall pieces of information including people he had met. It was much later before Ed actually believed he had that ability. But today he had yet another theory on the subject: that Steve made such a huge deal about what little he could remember that people discounted the rest. However, he was correct on who this was as Ed had just checked her ID through his AI.
In response to the voices, the girl rustled in her chair, and suddenly her eyes snapped open. Like cornered prey she held motionless, as if the three men would not see her any longer and just walk away. Her hands grasped the arms of the chair as she examined them carefully, looking first at Steve, then at Brad and finally at Edwyrd.
“Hello,” she began, her voice uncertain, “I guess I remember you. Patron's sons?”
It wasn't a question. She knew who the hell they were.
“Staff dinner is weekdays at 17:00 promptly. It's mandatory,” Ed barked, unable now to contain himself. But it was the issue of the AI that really irked him. First she approached Patron directly, now she was flaunting standard security protocols. Already she reminded him of Steve, always pushing boundaries.
“Back from Techview after all these years,” Steve spoke as if narrating a story. “Cynnamon C433. Have you come to spy on us? To report back to your Techview masters?”
“What?” Cyn stood up, her face flustered. The thin fabric of her dress rustled along her tanned and toned thighs. Ed ignored that, although he was sure the others were already taking in her curves, especially Brad who adored the fairer sex. This asset had always been a beauty, most hospies were, and the years had seasoned and highlighted her looks, a complex blend of beauty and corporate professionalism even in the simple dress. Her hair was long, black and silky but tied back. Her eyes were large and dark, sparkling with gold. She looked like the hospies that some men kept on the side, or who danced in cages. Ed couldn't help remember his anger and jealousy when she was sent off to Techview all those years ago. And now she was back. Marvelous.
“You made such a big deal about leaving us for Techview, very surprising that you would come back,” Ed huffed.
“I thought Patron called her down here,” Brad replied diplomatically, already protecting a damsel in distress. “Anyhow, was she this stunning before? Have you been visiting our friends at Humantis, Cynnamon?”
“I don't see much difference, Brad,” Steve smiled unpleasantly, “perhaps she picked up some kilos from all those decadent Techview meals.”
“Wow!” Brad fawned, “when I am Patron, I want five wives who look just like her.”
Both Steve and Ed burst out laughing. Brad had as much a chance of being Patron as a butterfly.
Meanwhile the girl just looked at them as if she was watching a Q-ball match.
“Well, Cynnamon,” Steve began, “I'd think that over the years you would have taken advantage of some Humantis procedures. You can get significant discounts here, I know because I negotiated them. Your look was always so one-note, have you considered rainbow hair or variable breasts? They have proven negotiating bonuses.”
“I don't know what to
say. Thank you all for your comments.”Her voice was overly cool and controlled. It irked Edwyrd even though he was sure she was angry. Did she know where she was? She was the one who had already broken multiple rules...
“We are late already,” Steve huffed before turning and exiting without a parting word. That left the other two brothers to follow.
Brad, the white knight, apologized that the office was closed and promised that he would return in the morning. He waved the girl a goodbye and left Ed with her.
Ed hesitated. He was unhappy with this whole thing. He didn't want to yell but neither did he want to walk away, to back off. And he didn't want to look her in the eye and that fact infuriated him.
“You don't even have your AI with you,” he blurted, “It's a red flag to security. Besides, no one could find you if it were needed. It's a violation. Rules have reasons, you could at least study up on them. It's not like you...”
“Ed!”
He let his brother's call pull him out of lecture mode. It was enough, he turned and left her.
Cyn
Cyn yanked the hem of her dress in frustration. Stupid! She had taken a lax attitude toward these people after the 'Oz' comment and had made mistake after mistake. Even if they were indeed a city of animals, it was what they thought of themselves which was the key to navigating their procedures, completing her assignment and getting the hell out. There. She had said it. Getting the hell out.
Rather than making any progress on her assignment or unblocking her security she had managed only to alienate every Transom officer she had met, including the very mercurial and dangerous sons of Patron. The girl who had fled New Berlyn all those years ago was a genius compared to the one who had returned.
She flew off the chair, to her feet, and walked quickly down the hallways, navigating her way back to the lobby. She needed to return to her room, collect her AI, and formulate a plan...and get some sleep.
