3.b.vi
A red light
blinked on the vibrating mobile device attached to his hip. He knew without looking, that the Big Bossman
was summoning. After enjoying the motion
of the device for a few heartbeats he turned it off and went about his
business.
Currently, he
was in a sweatshop, but not one on foreign soil. There were many like it all across the
country, taking advantage of a willing, immigrant workforce. No one seemed to care about the working
condition of these “illegals.” In fact,
the “Made in the USA ”
brand which adorned the products they slaved over, was seen as something of
renown; a great good.
And should his
workforce be discovered by some pious organization or individual, little
protest will be made of the substandard working conditions of his employees, so
great will the uproar be over their non-citizen status.
In the old
days he was a strong presence in the business community. Out in the open and even lauded. Recently, with all the outcry for human
rights in this nation, his persona found the underground better suited to his
business.
They called
him Apathy. Able to exploit employees
caring not for their health or insignificant lives. He’d been a captain of industry and they’d
titled him appropriately. Captain
Apathy. Though not as outwardly
prevalent these days, his method and moniker had become more general, and of
higher rank.
Perhaps now,
with this summons from the Big Bossman, a man he not only knew quite well but
had played a part in his rise to power, Apathy would once more find himself in
the public eye.
