The Tragic Death of Corporate
Man
a hero for
capitalism;
champion of the
working class
by Tom Landaluce
Section 5:
Betty Bots, Sharky,
and the Big Squeeze.
5.a.
The stairwell
glowed blue like the numbers on a digital cash register display. There were no guard rails and the steps were
backless platforms which added to the company’s unease. The most disconcerting aspect of the endless
stair was its positioning in large shaft.
It did not hug the outer wall of the chamber or curl tightly against
itself. Instead, the steps hovered at
least two feet away from the exterior walls and left a five foot void running
down the center.
The trip was
slow going. Fair Wage was winded after
the first couple of flights and frequent rests were necessary. The journey seemed to last for hours; days if
someone had bothered to ask Fair Wage.
It was even suggested that the staircase ran all the way to the top of
the building.
“The stairs
are moving,” Business Woman said.
Everyone
froze.
She was
standing a few flights below with her arm held over the drop, touching the
exterior wall.
“Well, it’s
stopped now, but when you were all climbing it felt like the wall was moving
up. This suggests that the stairs are
probably going down.”
“You’re
joking,” said Supply.
“Afraid not.”
“Oh god. How many more flights do we have to go?” Fair
Wage gasped.
“I don’t
know,” Business Woman said, “but I suggest that the majority of us stand still
while Fair Wage and Senior Executive continue the climb.”
“Wait, what?”
said Fair Wage.
“Yeah, what’s
that going to accomplish?” asked Senior Executive.
“Maybe nothing
but, in the business world, procedures are often put in place in order to screw
the majority. So when most or all of us
move, we all get screwed. If only a
couple of people move…”
After a long
pause Corporate Man said, “That actually makes sense in a ridiculous sort of
way.”
He nodded and
both Senior Executive and Fair Wage continued the climb.
“Why Fair
Wage?” asked Demand. “Shouldn’t we give
him a break?”
“Well, in all
likelihood, the stairs will move against us as soon as the majority resumes the
climb. This way Fair Wage won’t have to
mount so many steps.”
A few minutes
later Senior Executive called down, “Hey, we found it. There’s a landing up here with a door. It’s only about ten or eleven flights above
you.”
The party made
their way up to the door. The stairs
remained stationary so long as Fair Wage and Senior Executive stood on the
landing.
When they were
all gathered in front of the door Corporate Man said, “I don’t know what we can
expect on the other side, but if these stairs are any indication the
environment will not be friendly. Be
prepared and stick together.”
He reached for
the handle and opened the door.
5.b.
Visitors. She never got the chance to receive visitors
here on the thirteenth floor. She was,
after all, at desk two and desk two was positioned to receive clients entering
from the staircase. Visitors were
extremely rare on the thirteenth floor and no one ever came up the stairs. Why bother when there was a very comfortable,
highly functional, elevator on the opposite side of the building? Yet here they were, sweaty and out
breath. Seven of them.
She reviewed
her list of welcoming parameters, she had never needed to employ her meet and
greet protocols, and said, “Good morning, and welcome to the offices of
Incorporated Business Corporation Incorporated.
Section thirteen here at the Jacob
Center Tower . I am Betty.
How may I assist?”
“Water,” Fair
Wage said, his voice raspy as he stumbled toward the water cooler.
“Please help
yourself,” Betty said as she straightened the sleeve of her periwinkle
blouse. “It is listed among the top
requests of potential visitors.”
“Hi Betty, my
name is Corporate Man. Perhaps you could explain to me what this
place is exactly. What do you do here.”
“Oh my, that’s
rather simple Mr. Corporate Man. This
is an office and I am a receptionist
and my duties state that I am to warmly receive you and ask you to wait until
they are ready for you.”
“Who are
they? And when will they be ready for
us?” Corporate Man asked.
“They are the people you are here to see
and they will see you after you have
waited the appropriate amount of time.”
“This is
asinine,” Business Woman said.
“Oh no,” said
Betty, “Forgive me, but I must correct you.
This is Corporate America. This
is how it works.”
“Can I slap
her?” Business Woman said, her hands on her hips, her head slightly titled as
she cast an impatient glare at Corporate Man.
“Since that
worked so well with the CEO at Waldos…” Corporate Man muttered. He looked back at the receptionist. “Betty, we’re investors. We represent a conglomerate of interested
parties and national organizations. We
are not to be kept waiting.”
Business Woman
rolled her eyes. Senior Executive
allowed a blast of breath to derisively escape his nostrils.
Betty nodded
and said, “This assertion is congruent in fact as well as in inclination. Please advise your colleague that he may wish
to forgo the offerings of the water cooler for the bottles of sparkling water
that await you in Conference Room A.
Coffee and tea are also available as well as an assortment of pastry
items. You may go in now and please…
have a lovely day.”
Senior
Executive approached Corporate Man as they filed past the reception desk and,
in a hushed tone, said, “What was that?”
“What? You didn’t think they called me Corporate Man
for nothing did you?”
5.c.
The offices of
the thirteenth floor were warm and inviting, with rich woods, deep earth-tone
colors, and green leafy plants in stout clay pots. Employees milled about abundant water coolers
while stainless steel refreshment carts, laden with pastries and other snacks,
were wheeled from office to office by smiling attendants.
“Something is
not right,” Corporate Man said, eyeing their surroundings with suspicion.
“What’s
wrong?” asked Senior Executive.
“Look around
you. For an office of IBC Inc. there
sure is a lot of fat. A lot of excess.”
“This is the central office,” said Business
Woman.
“Yes, but
these are still basic subordinates. At
least as far as I can tell. Not
executives. And what are they doing
here?”
“Working. Obviously,” said Senior Executive.
“Are
they? They seem to be milling around an
awful lot. But I meant, why here? In the floor accessible only by secret
stairs?” Corporate Man shook his head
and then bit one of his knuckles as he tried to concentrate.
“Conference
Room A,” said Franklin Buck. “We’re
here.”
They went
inside.
In the center
of the room was a mammoth table with eight black leather folders situated atop
its glossy surface. True to Betty’s
claim, there was bottled water, coffee, tea, and pastries. Everyone made a small plate of snacks and
chose a beverage before sitting at the table.
“Okay this
bizarre,” said Business Woman.
“This is
good,” said Franklin Buck, holding up a small, cream filled cake.
“Are we
supposed to assume that these folders are for us?” asked Demand, his fingers
brushing across the black leather.
“Let’s find
out,” said Corporate Man.
He opened a
folder.
“Good. You’re all here,” a man said as he walked
into the room. He wore a short-sleeved
white shirt with a red tie. “We’ve got a
lot of material to cover and very little time for action.”
He smiled and
his mouth gleamed white.
“And who might
you be?” asked Business Woman.
“I’m
Jack. I run all the meetings in
Conference Room A.”
“Why are we
here?” asked Senior Executive.
“For a
meeting,” said Jack.
“What kind of
meeting?” asked Senior Executive.
“Probably a
very long one,” said Jack.
Senior
Executive pushed his chair away from the table but Corporate Man signaled him
to hold his position. Then Corporate Man
asked, “What are we going to cover in today’s meeting?”
“Good
question,” said Jack. He held up the
black folder and said, “We’re going over the contents of this folder.”
Both Business
Woman and Senior Executive muttered curse words and let their heads loll. Corporate Man opened the folder and read
aloud, “Budgetary Matters. Combating
rising costs in our industry.”
“That’s
right,” said Jack. “Now let’s get
started. Who’d like to read the first
page?”
Senior
Executive and Business Woman slumped and groaned. No one else volunteered so Corporate Man
continued reading, “Rising costs are a normal occurrence in the economy. There is little one can do to lower these
increases but there are ways to cope.
One. Cut down on spending. Two.
Find ways to increase your income.
Three. Invest in a higher
yielding instrument. Four. Control wages. Five.
Minimize liquid assets…” Corporate Man trailed off, shook his head, and
then skimmed over the remaining list reading only the last entry aloud.
“Hedging.”
“Great,” said
Jack. “Everyone, please turn the page
and we’ll jump right in to number one.
Cutting down on spending.”
Everyone
turned the page.
5.d.
“Who wants to
read this page?” asked Jack.
Business Woman
raised her hand and smirked. Jack nodded
toward her. She made some mumbling
humming noises and then read the last word on the page aloud and clearly.
“Necessities.”
“Super,” said
Jack. “Now, let’s implement some of
these techniques.”
“What’s going
on?” asked Franklin Buck.
“Yeah. Did I miss something?” Fair Wage said.
“Ah, there you
are, Betty,” said Jack as Betty walked into the room. She held a ledger in one hand. “Betty will go over the measures with which
we will cut down on spending. Betty?”
“Thank you,”
Betty said, smoothing the sleeve of her lavender blouse. “Refreshment expenditures are the largest
area of unnecessary expense. If you note
subsection E of paragraph nine under article one, you will see that we’ve managed
to turn this loss into revenue. Hence
forth all refreshments and snack food items will carry a nominal fee. I’ve taken the liberty of noting everything
each of us in this room has partaken of and drafted invoices. The cost may be deducted from your paycheck
or simply be paid up front.”
“Thank you
Betty. Please send a memo to the rest of
the staff and distribute bills accordingly,” said Jack.
Betty passed
out invoices and then left the room.
“Wait,” said
Franklin Buck. “So… are we employed here
now? And seven bucks for a coffee? This is crap coffee not an extra large,
triple shot, caramel latte.”
Corporate Man
gestured to Franklin , indicating
that the Dollar Man should calm down.
“But I can’t
afford this,” Franklin Buck said.
“Jack,” said
Corporate Man, ignoring Franklin . “As it is mandated by government regulations
that employees shall be provided prescheduled breaks, I suggest we observe such
a break at this time and continue when we return.”
“Oh. Break time already? Take five, people,” said Jack. Then he slumped forward in his chair as if he
were catching a little cat nap.
5.e.
Corporate Man
led the group out of the conference room and said in a loud voice,
“Alright. Let’s go find the break
room.” Then, in low voice, his lips
barely moving, his attention on the hallway in front of them, he said, “We’re
in serious trouble here.”
“I know,” said
Business Woman. “Inflation. Do you have a plan.”
“Wait. What’s going on?” asked Franklin Buck.
“Quiet, Dollar
Man,” Senior Executive hissed. “We can’t
let him know we’re on to–”
“Are you
looking for the break room?” Betty asked.
“Oh. Um, yeah,” said Corporate
Man.
“Right this
way,” said Better, smoothing the sleeve of her pink blouse.
Reluctantly,
they followed.
Franklin Buck
squinted his eyes as he walked. Then he
rubbed his chin, scratched the back of his head, and looked quite puzzled. Finally he asked, “Weren’t you wearing a
different color blouse earlier?”
Corporate
Man’s eyes went wide and he glared back at Franklin . Both Business Woman and Senior Executive
hissed.
“What?” said
Franklin Buck.
“No. It’s the same one I’ve been wearing all day,”
said Betty.
“Uh uh. No.
The other was blue, or purple or something,” Franklin Buck said.
“It’s
inappropriate to notice a female coworker’s attire,” said Corporate
Man.
“But I
wasn’t–”
“Noticing anything about our female coworker’s
attire,” Senior Executive said. He moved
in close to Franklin and whispered,
“What do you notice about all the employees in this office?”
“My god. They’re all the same,” he hissed. Every employee strolling about the office of
the thirteenth floor was either a Betty or a Jack. The only difference was a slight hue-shift in
their business apparel.
“Keep your
mouth shut,” Senior Executive said, low, hushed, and angry.
“Though
robotic workers have not become a cost effective solution, and therefore remain
ineffective when combating rising costs, a dedicated development strategy will
ensure that preprogrammed office workers will one day become an affordable
business tool, requiring no bathroom breaks, sick days, vacation time, food, or
water with simple regimen of routine maintenance checks to ensure a long
lasting career,” Betty said.
“Shit. Here it comes,” said Corporate
Man.
“Additional
benefits to cost cutting measures include the ability to serve as our own
security staff,” Betty continued. She
raised her hands and spread her fingers. The knuckles popped, snapping away
from each other, doubling the length of each digit, and creating a menacing,
mechanical hand. Her finger tips split
and thin blades flicked out. When she
next spoke her voice echoed over the public address system.
“All units
converge. Alert code: Price gouge! Alert code: Price gouge!”
5.f.
The thirteenth
floor of the Jacob Center
Tower was unique in that it had
multiple levels yet still comprised only one unit of floor designation. Corporate Man and his friendly little Union
were currently experiencing great financial trouble on level C. Two levels above them, on level A, was an
office. In that office was a person
neither Betty nor Jack. A person of
flesh and blood and vast economic knowledge and disdain.
This person
was Professor Inflation.
He sat at a
console overflowing with buttons, toggles, levels, slides, roller balls,
monitors, blinking things, numerical readouts, various printer feeds, and small
speakers.
He was
grinning.
And he was
wearing his cape.
Triggering fiscal
death traps always seemed more appropriate when wearing a cape.
5.g.
A swarm of
sharpened Betty’s had separated the Union . Supply was with Fair Wage and Franklin
Buck. The old man was holding up well,
and kept most of the gouging attackers at bay.
Franklin Buck was practically useless; Supply expected to see a wet spot
appear across the crotch of his pants at any moment.
She didn’t
know where she was leading them or why they were following her. All she knew was that she needed to find
Demand. Neither of them functioned well
without the other.
A Betty and
two Jacks burst out of an office door on their left. Franklin
Buck shrieked and man-slapped one of the Jacks which did little to deter the
robot. Supply grabbed the Betty unit’s
wrists, charged toward the other Jack and impaled it on the Betty’s bladed
fingers. She head butted the other Jack,
which hurt just as much as she thought it might, but her positioning had left
her with no other available maneuver.
The Jack stumbled backward and Fair Wage permanently dismantled it.
“Work a second
job! Sell your belongings! Go back to school! You won’t stop inflation!” the Betty
screamed. She fell silent when Franklin
Buck stepped forward and head butted her.
A look of pride and accomplishment flashed across his face and for a
moment he seemed confident and manly.
Then one of his eyelids twitched and a blank expression set in just
before his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.
They dragged Franklin
to the nearest water cooler and doused him until he came around. One of the Jack heads lying nearby said,
“Have to… Charge you zzbt that.”
“Where am I,”
Franklin Buck asked as almost all victims of sudden unconsciousness do when
they awaken. His eyes lolled around and
he said, “How much do you think I’m worth?”
“On your
feet,” said Supply.
“Where are we
going? Not another business trip, I hope,”
Franklin Buck said sputtering. A massive
flesh egg continued to grow on his forehead.
“We need to
find Demand and the others,” she said and urged them forward. Without Demand she was almost powerless. Together they were an imposing economic
force.
5.h
Robotic
employee parts covered the hallway floors.
Corporate Man and Senior Executive had gone through the swarm of Jacks
and Bettys like weed-whackers through ornamental grass.
“It’s
him. I know it’s him,” said Corporate
Man.
He dislodged the arms of a Jack unit then kicked it in the face,
snapping its head around one hundred and eighty degrees. “Professor Inflation.”
“Is your PDA
getting a signal in here?” Senior Executive asked.
Corporate Man
lifted the small electronic device from his jacket pocket and pressed some
buttons.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let me see it,” Senior Executive said, taking
the PDA from Corporate Man.
“What are you
doing?”
“I’m moving
all my investments and the bulk of my savings accounts into precious metals and
other commodities that still post gains during inflationary periods. If we are going up against Professor
Inflation, I need to make sure my portfolio is strong.”
5.i.
Demand
staggered through the endless corridors of the thirteenth floor office. A Betty had raked her sharpened digits across
his shoulder, gouging parallel wounds in his purple suit. Blood blackened the fabric as it seeped
through the fibers. His mauve tie was
cinched around his leg, closing a Jack-inflicted puncture in the side of his
thigh.
He felt
small. Smaller then when they’d entered
the Jacob Center
Tower . Small enough that his tailored clothes were
hanging loose. His breathing was labored
and his fingers felt cold.
And he
stumbled onward.
5.j.
Business Woman
held the head of a Jack unit in her hands, her fingers frantically adjusting
the wires, pulling apart circuitry, and making a deliberate mess of the
electronics inside the housing. The head
clicked and a whirring sound buzzed from somewhere within.
Then it yelped
like an injured robot dog.
She adjusted
more parts and the yelping ceased.
“Jack?” she
said. “Are you operational?”
“Negative,”
said the Jack head. Its lips did not
move. “I seem to have sustained negative
body damage and cannot access my facial expressions matrix.”
“But you are
able to answer my questions?”
“Yes.”
“Are you
willing to answer all my questions?
Truthfully? Disclosing even
guarded company secrets?”
“All that I
have access to,” said Jack.
“Good,” said
Business Woman. Use the competition’s
assets against them. Her favorite
gambit. “Jack. Are you able to locate my business
associates?”
“Yes.”
“Lead me to
them. And then I want you to lead us out
of this place.”
“Can do,” said
Jack.
“Are you able
to shut down all the remaining Betty and Jack units?” asked Business Woman.
“Negative. All units operate via master/slave circuits
and must be disconnected individually or through the master control.”
“Great,”
muttered Business Woman. “Alright. Let’s find the others. Take me to Corporate
Man.
5.k.
“I can feel him. He’s on the other side of this wall,” Supply
said.
“Who? Corporate Man?” Franklin Buck asked. The knot on his forehead was the size of a
plum and would be a similar shade in a day or two. If any of them lasted that long.
“No. Demand.
He’s there,” she said, pointing to the wall.
“How do we get
there? The doors on that side lead to a
small office, a janitor’s closet, and a stairwell,” said Fair Wage.
“Let’s take
the stairs. The hallway dead ends back
there,” she said, gesturing toward the wall where she’d felt Demand. “Maybe if we go up we can drop back down.”
5.l.
“Straight
ahead, then left,” said the Jack head.
“This reunites you with two associates.
Sensors indicate that one will then remain.”
“Wait. One?
What you mean? There should be
four more,” Business Woman said, shaking the robotic head as she ran.
“All other
vital signs have terminated. Motion
sensors, respiratory patterns, heartbeats.
All negative,” said the Jack head.
Business Woman
said nothing, but quickened her pace.
When she turned left she immediately leapt back, startled by Corporate
Man and Senior Executive. Both were
crouched at the corner, positioned in economically feasible martial arts
postures, ready to pounce.
“Jesus you
two! Give a girl a heart attack.”
“Sorry. We heard someone coming and prepared for the
worst,” said Corporate Man.
“We’ve lost
three,” said Business Woman.
“What? Who?”
“Don’t
know. I rigged up this Jack unit and
three life signs just blinked out.”
“Oh god,” said
Senior Executive, shaking his head.
Corporate Man
put a hand on each of their shoulders and said, “We’ll mourn later. Right now we have to focus. Keep our goals in sight and take action. Can we use that thing to locate the other
survivor?”
5.m.
Demand could
barely stand upright. He’d fought off
two more waves of Betty/Jacks and suffered a dozen shallow cuts as well as
something much deeper between the ribs on his left side. He lumbered down the hallway, hand clasped dangerously
close to his heart. Blood seeped between
his fingers.
He opened the
door to an office and sat at a desk. A
weary sigh escaped his lips. He hoped
his lung wasn’t punctured. He was sure
he’d know it if his lung were punctured.
A Jack unit
appeared in the doorway. Its eyes went
wide, its mouth opened, and it emitted a sound something like a modem scream
crossed with a dentist drill.
Demand didn’t
get up. So what if they got to him now
or in a few minutes? He couldn’t last
much longer. Let it end. But when two more Jacks and four Bettys
crowded the doorway Demand sighed, pushed away from the desk, and stood ready.
The screaming
Jack unit lifted its hand and pointed a sharpened finger toward Demand. Behind it, two of the Betty units exploded in
a mess of circuits, wires, and mechanical limbs. Demand had just enough time to flinch and
furrow his brow before another Betty and two Jacks met similar fates.
Corporate Man
dropped into the room from a vague upward direction, his necktie trailing
behind him. Business Woman and Senior
Executive charged through the door and dismantled the remaining robots.
Demand
smiled. Then he slumped over the desk,
bleeding, and lost consciousness.
5.n.
The walls were
white with a horizontal stripe of deep blue, the width of a yard stick, set at
eye level. The light seemed dim. Almost like twilight. Framed photographs of colorful fish schooling
around coral reefs hung at measured intervals within the wall’s blue line.
There was
something ominous about the seemingly cheerful pictures and after a moment,
Franklin Buck saw it. The background in
all the photos was the deep, open ocean.
Barely visible in the gloom was an ocean predator. A barracuda or stingray. Most were sharks, lurking at the edges of
visible space, ready to attack the unprepared.
“I don’t like
this floor,” said Franklin Buck. “We
should go back.”
“You prefer
the killer robots then?” asked Fair Wage.
“No, but we
should get out of here anyway.”
“We will,”
said Supply. “As soon as we find another
staircase.”
5.o.
“He’s coming around,” said Business
Woman. “Demand? We’ve got the bleeding stopped. Do you think you can walk?”
“Supply. Where’s Supply?”
Business Woman
looked at the others. Both Senior
Executive and Corporate Man cringed.
“Uh. Demand, old friend. I don’t know how to tell you this, but… she’s
gone,” said Corporate Man.
“Gone where?”
Demand asked.
“No honey,”
said Business Woman. “She gone. She’s dead.”
Demand looked
puzzled and pointed to the ceiling.
“She’s up there.”
“I know. I know,” said Business Woman, embracing
him. “She’s gone to Jesus.”
“No,” said
Demand. “She’s right above us. I can feel her.”
Business Woman
pushed away. “What?”
“Yeah. Now she’s over that way,” he said, pointing
to a different section of the ceiling.
Business Woman
grabbed the Jack head and yelled, “I thought you said they were dead.”
“Not at all,”
said Jack. “I merely stated that I could
no longer read their vital signs. Passage
to an upper level would account for that.
They’d no longer be within my scanning range.”
“You piece of
shit,” Business Woman said, raising the Jack head, ready to smash it against
the floor.
“Wait,” said Corporate
Man.
“Jack. How go we get up to next
level?”
“Easy. Take the stairs.”
“Will you lead
us to the stairs?”
“Of course.”
5.p.
“Down here!”
Fair Wage called out. He was standing
near an open door in the blue-lined hallway.
Inside was a stairwell illuminated by a harsh amber light which stabbed
out into the cool, twilight tones of the corridor. “Oh crap.
I hear something.”
Fair Wage
jumped back and closed the stairway door.
Supply rushed forward yelling, “No.
It’s him. It’s him.”
She pulled the
door open and went to the edge of the landing.
“Supply? Is that you?” Demand said.
“Yes. I’m here,” she said. Corporate Man and Senior Executive brought
Demand up to the landing where Supply hugged him to her chest. Instead of wincing at the pressure to his
injuries, he stood taller. He seemed
strengthened. His wounds stopped
bleeding. Supply gasped for breath when
they parted.
“Where are
we?” asked Senior Executive.
“We’re still
on the thirteenth floor,” said Supply, still trying to catch her breath. “A secondary level though.”
“Any
hostiles?” Corporate Man asked.
“None so far,”
she said and slumped against Senior Executive.
“Just some
creepy photographs,” said Franklin Buck.
There was a
loud clanging slam as a steel panel fell from the wall, swung against the down
stairwell, and sealed it shut. A chorus
of similar sounds echoed throughout the floor.
“That can’t be
good,” said Franklin Buck.
Corporate Man
gathered everyone together, advised them all to stay close to avoid getting
separated, and moved them down the hallway through the dim, bluish light.
They’d walked
for what felt like hours and though the immediate danger seemed a distant
memory, somehow the atmosphere of the place had grown more ominous. They searched various offices, a couple
cleaning closets, a break room, and some bathrooms, but found nothing.
Fair Wage was
getting tired. His aged body was under
much strain. When they found themselves
in another break room he marched to the water cooler and said, “I don’t care
what they charge me, I need water.”
He filled a
small cup and drank deep.
“Oh god. It’s salty.”
The water
cooler gurgled and sputtered then started to shake.
“Everyone get
back,” said Business Woman, herding them to the far side of the break room.
The water cooler
burst, spouting up like a geyser, boiling against the ceiling, and drenching
the room. Similar explosions could be
heard throughout the floor.
The Union
fled the break room, but found the hallway equally discomforting. Water streamed from huge metal grates in the
ceiling. A deep, meaty slapping sound
pounded against the grates and the entire floor shuddered. Then the bolts securing the grates to the
ceiling gave way and the whole thing crashed to the floor, pinned beneath the
bulk of a large, agitated shark.
“Oh shit,”
said Business Woman.
“Is that a
Great White?” asked Franklin Buck as the shark flopped and writhed in the six
inches of water that had accumulated on the on the hallway floor.
“No,” said
Fair Wage as he and the rest of the Union ran in a
general “away” direction. “That’s a grey
reef shark.”
Another loud
snap and thunderous clang brought down a second ceiling grate and an even
larger shark.
“That one’s a
Great White,” Fair Wage said.
The water was
nearly a foot deep and the grey reef shark behind them skittered and floundered
over the carpeted floor, making some progress in the Union ’s
direction.
“Through
here,” said Corporate Man. He opened the door to a small office. They raced in, ran to a door on the far side
of the room, charged through it, and found themselves in a large, open space
with a tall ceiling.
5.q.
“What’s
this? A conference room?” asked Senior
Executive.
“I think it’s
a convention hall,” said Business Woman.
By this point
the water was almost to their knees. Progress
across the convention room floor was hindered by the necessary exaggeration of
their steps and the weak, almost limp form of Supply who was dangling on the
shoulders of Senior Executive and Corporate Man.
A chorus of snapping
supports and falling metal grates sounded throughout the grand hall, dropping
dozens of sharks in the ever deepening water.
Makos and bullsharks and hammerheads and tigers and white-tips slapped
hard into the shallows all around them.
The big fish seemed dazed after the long fall, but quickly regained
their predatory focus and cut through the water in stuttering, wriggling
spurts. Some of the smaller sharks were
almost fully submerged with only their upper back and dorsal fins jutting above
the surface.
The sharks
made darting runs at the splashing, frantic humans but arched away from the
thrashing, stomping legs and feet when they were within a few yards.
A door to the Union ’s
rear exploded from its hinges as the Great White crashed into the conference
hall amongst splinters of inexpensive hollow core paneling. The water was
thigh-deep now and three quarters of the massive shark was beneath the surface. Sheets of water sheered up and over its sleek
back as it barreled toward them.
“Move! Move!
Move!” Business Woman cried out.
The Great
White slammed into a circling blue shark, knocking the smaller fish out of the
water. It flailed helplessly through the
air then splashed down with a frantic slap. The Great White snapped at an
approaching reef shark and then careened toward a hammerhead and bit down on
the unwary fish’s tail. Blood spurt from
the hammerhead’s thrashing body and the water became a boiling froth of scarlet
and panic.
“Blood in the
water!” Franklin Buck screamed. He tried
to quicken his pace but the water was up to his waist and he couldn’t move any
faster. “Swim for it!”
He dove
forward, kicking and stroking the water; fervent and mad. Most of the sharks were busy feasting on
chunks of the destroyed hammerhead, but the sudden thrashing from Franklin Buck
drew their attention. Corporate Man and
Business Woman yelled for Franklin
to calm himself; to stop.
He didn’t hear
them.
A mako shark
cruised through the water, its movements agitated and quick. Hungry.
It sped toward Franklin Buick and snapped. The bite was exploratory and tentative but on
the mark, ripping away a large swath of green jacket fabric and scratching a
line of shallow cuts in Franklin ’s
side.
He screamed
and flailed. The fish circled around for
another run and then shot through the water toward The Dollar Man.
Fair Wage dove
between the shark and his colleague, patting the water and humming a low
warbling sound. The shark flinched and lurched
toward Fair Wage. The old man pivoted
and chopped at the water as the fish went streaking by, his hand clipping the
shark’s sensitive nose.
“Get everyone
to the door,” Fair Wage said.
“What about
you?” asked Senior Executive.
“I can handle
whatever Professor Inflation sends our way,” he said pulling a hank of his wet
silvery hair from his forehead and then elbowing an aggressive bull shark.
The water in
the conference hall was chest deep when the team arrived at the large metal
door. They pried it open. The water level on the other side was higher
and gushed out, nearly washing them back into open water.
“Hurry! Close the door!” Franklin Buck shouted as
they fought their way into the little room.
“Fair Wage is
still out there,” said Business Woman.
“He’s as good
as–” but Franklin Buck did not finish.
His eyes widened with terror as the great white shark barreled toward
the door, cutting through the water like a u-boat. Riding on top was a man in a brown suit. When the big fish was a few feet from the
entrance Fair Wage reached down and poked the shark in the eye. The fish jerked to side, angling away and back
out into the conference room. Fair Wage
leapt from its back and in through the door.
Corporate Man
and Senior Executive muscled the door closed.
5.r.
Professor
Inflation stood in front of a full length mirror admiring the way his cape
fluttered when he twirled. A tinkling
chime sounded from the desk computer and a pleasant voice intoned, “The Union
has escaped the sharks.”
Professor
Inflation didn’t seem to notice the voice and continued to appreciate his image
in the mirror, cocking his head first this way then that, puffing out his
chest, arching his back slightly, and flexing his butt muscles. Then he sauntered over to the computer, his
attention lingering on the mirror a moment longer, even as he walked away.
“Looks like
it’s almost time,” he said, pulling up a video display with a few nimble
keystrokes. On the screen Corporate Man
and the rest of the Union were nearly neck deep in the
water of the little room.
“Hmm… It’s interesting, but it lacks drama now that
the sharks are no longer a factor. Run
market scenario number six and alert me when the fun starts.”
He trotted
back to the mirror and whirled his cape across his body and up in front of his
face. Then he snapped it to his side
like a matador. He curled his lip into a
snarl.
No. Too much.
He tried a sly
grin.
Almost.
He added a
slow wink.
Perfect.
5.s.
“The water’s
stopped,” said Demand.
“Great. So we’re trapped. Up to our necks in water. With sharks just outside,” said Franklin Buck.
Business Woman
leaned toward Supply and said, “How are your doing?”
“Better. It always takes it out of one of us when were
have to transfer power like that.”
There was a
deep ka-chunk sound and everybody froze, their breaths held.
The water
started draining from the room.
“Oh thank
god,” said Franklin Buck.
“No. This can’t be good,” said Corporate
Man.
In moments the room was empty. Only a film of
water remained. It coated everything
neck-high and lower.
“Well, I don’t
care,” said Franklin Buck. “It’s huge
relief.”
The metal door
groaned as if in answer to his statement.
The wall creaked under the tremendous pressure from the ever increasing volumes
of water out in the conference hall. A
hinge buckled and fine spray erupted from a small gap.
“Are you
kidding me?” said Business Woman.
Something large
thudded against the door. Another gap
opened along the seam and more water hissed into the room.
Then it hit
again.
And again.
“It’s the
Great White,” said Fair Wage.
“We gotta get
outta here,” Franklin Buck yelled, almost shrieking.
“Calm down,”
said Corporate Man.
“Easy for you
to say with that special necktie you got.”
“Think,
people,” said Corporate Man. “How can we fight inflation? Senior Executive and I have moved all our
assets into safer commodities investments.
We’ve got–”
The shark hit
the door again, bending in the upper corner.
Water gushed into the room and a flash of triangular teeth snapped
repeatedly on the other side.
5.t.
“I know a
way,” said Supply. She looked a
Demand. “Do you think you’re strong
enough?”
“I have to
be,” he said.
Supply grabbed
Demand’s hands and said, “Business Woman.
You look after him, okay? Don’t
let him wash away in this mess.”
There was a
sound, like computerized jingle-bells echoing across the voids of space. And Supply started growing. Seven feet.
Then fifteen feet tall. As she
grew, Demand shriveled and shrank. Four
feet, two feet, then six inches short. Business Woman snatched him out of the
air before he fell.
Supply’s back
pressed against the ceiling. She grunted
and strained. Her legs crushed Union
members against the side walls.
The shark’s
head burst through the doorway. Its
teeth gnashed against Senior Executive’s shoulders, ripping the fabric of his
suit jacket, but finding no purchase.
Supply yelled
and elbowed the ceiling until it cracked.
She hit it again and a large section broke free leaving a gaping
hole. She pulled herself up through the
opening. Corporate Man joined her,
dropping down from somewhere; necktie cape flapping over his shoulder.
“Quick. Let’s get everyone up here!” he shouted.
Supply reached
down and pulled up Business Woman, then Senior Executive.
“Hurry. Hurry!
That thing’s almost through,” Franklin Buck cried out.
One of the
Great White’s pectoral fins stabbed around the mangled metal door. The huge fish writhed and twisted and it
tried to swim through the opening; its mouth of razors snapping and biting.
Supply lifted
Franklin Buck through the hole and reached down for Fair Wage. The door gave way dumping the shark into the
small space and right on top of their elderly companion. The room became a blender of thrashing,
biting, frothing chaos. Flailing arms
clawed desperately beneath the overpowering bulk of the huge fish. The shark’s tail whipped back and forth
through the water as it gnashed greedily.
Then the water
turned red.
5.u.
“No!”
Corporate Man screamed, leaping into the room.
Supply caught him by the necktie and pulled him back up as more sharks
poured in from the conference room.
They fed in a
primal frenzy.
The sounds of
water churning and hulking fish slapping against each other as they slammed
against the office walls went on for long horrible minutes. A bloody foam lay on the surface of the water
and continued to rise, filling the room, subsiding once it reached the ceiling.
The Union
stood around the hole in the floor, gaping at the pool of recent violence;
shocked and unmoving.
No one spoke.
A dark form
burst up through the water and launched into the room. It slapped against the floor and rolled onto
its back, gasping and flailing, breaths only coming in hoarse gasps.
“Oh my god,”
Business Woman called out. “He’s alive!”
They rushed to
Fair Wage’s side and examined him for bites and other wounds. His hands bled, scraped raw on sharkskin, and
his forehead had a split over his left eyebrow where he’d been slammed against
something unyielding during the initial collision.
“How… How?” asked Senior Executive.
Fair Wage
smiled. “I don’t fear inflation. It
barely affects me.”
“But… all that
blood,” Supply said.
Fair Wage
opened his hand revealing a crystal clear debit card. He said, “It’s a diamond card. My purchasing power is quite formidable and
that shark’s belly was quite soft.”
“I’ll keep
that in mind,” Professor Inflation said, his voice booming and theatrical, “as
I devalue each and every one of you.”
5.v.
If little is known
about the thirteenth floor of the Jacob
Center Tower
then it can be said that next to nothing is known about the third level of the
thirteenth floor. Only one person has
ever managed to leave the third level of the thirteenth floor alive, but no one
would dare ask him about it.
He wears a
cape after all.
The only
evidence of its existence is an expense report, hidden in some dusty file
cabinet deep in the bowels of the building that reads like a numerical
typo. Why on earth did the third level
of the thirteenth floor cost so much to build?
What was in
there?
5.w.
Professor
Inflation lobbed something toward Corporate Man and then ducked behind a column. There were columns everywhere. The entire floor was one gigantic space with
hundreds of floor-to-ceiling columns throughout. Long fluorescent bulbs, placed like grid
work, illuminated the space with a sickly glow.
“Price Bomb!”
yelled Corporate Man as he leapt aside.
The object
struck the ground with a metallic clunk, fastened to the floor like a magnet,
and exploded soundlessly, sucking all the noise from the air.
Senior
Executive held up his portfolio, shielding the Union
from the Devalue-Void created by the blast.
Wind whipped around him, threatening to drag him forward into the
financial sink but he held his ground and the Price Bomb fizzled out.
“Welcome to my
lair,” Professor Inflation said from somewhere.
His voice echoed throughout the open space disembodied and
threatening. “And to your economic
ruin.”
The professor
dashed out from behind a pillar, reached up, slapped two silver discs on
Supply’s knees, and dashed back behind another column. From the discs came a high pitched breet and
a flashing blue light. Then sound, like
a bug zapper, crackled as a high voltage charge buckled Supply’s legs and
brought the towering woman to the floor.
She moaned and
writhed.
Business Woman
rushed forward to assist as Corporate Man tried to gather his team together
amidst the confusion. But it was too
late. Professor Inflation was out of the
shadows again, attacking. He grabbed
Franklin Buck, pinning the newest member of the Union ’s
arm behind his back and jabbing a large needle under his chin, up into his
jaw.
“We are not having
a stand off,” Professor Inflation said, pulling Franklin Buck in tight like a
human shield. “I will suck the value
from this man with my liquidating needle.
I merely pause for dramatic effect and to tell you that I have a
plethora of wonderful implements with which I will dismantle all of you. As for this gentleman–”
But Professor
Inflation didn’t finish. His hand
remained motionless on the plunger of the hypodermic needle as a diamond card
pressed against his Adam’s apple.
Fair Wage rose
up behind the Professor and said, “I’m immune to your tricks Inflation.”
Professor
Inflation smiled, “ That may be, but I doubt your friends can claim protection
against… RISING COSTS.”
There was a
shudder throughout the floor and a pneumatic hiss steamed from all the columns
in the room. Then the floor moved,
rising slowly towards the ceiling.
“And so the
financial pinch will crush you all,” Professor Inflation intoned, gesturing in triumph
with his velvety gloved hands.
Fair Wage
snorted dismissively. “That old
bit. Won’t work Professor. You’ll have to come up with something better
than that.”
Professor
Inflation’s smile widened. Then he
feigned a look of puzzlement and said, “Oh dear me! You wouldn’t, perchance, mean something like…
this?”
He clapped
twice with pink gloved hands and the lights went out. A surge of panic coursed through the
dark. The Union Members called out to
each other but everyone was speaking at the same time.
“I’ve lost
him,” shouted Fair Wage.
“Quiet
everyone! Center on my voice,” said Corporate
Man.
“And move to my position.
Business Woman? How’s Supply
doing?”
“Recovering.”
“Can she hold
the crush of this fiscal death trap?”
“I’m trying,”
said Supply, “but the force is too great.”
“Where’s
Inflation?” said Senior Executive.
“If I’m north
and you’re south, he’s to the west of us,” said Corporate Man, holding the
greed gun in his hand.
“Interesting,”
came Professor Inflation’s voice. “I’m
not quite sure how you did that. Doesn’t
matter. Useless. I had no intention of killing you in the dark
anyway.”
A bright light
strobed, leaving freeze-frame images of the Union members imprinted on the
successive blackness. In the flickering
of images the caped form of Professor Inflation rushed in from the concealment
of the columns and surrounding dark. The
attack came in the space of three strobes.
On the first flash he was on the periphery. On the second he was in amongst them. The third flash revealed the decommissioning
punch, or chop, or kick.
By the fourth
strobe, he was gone.
One by one the
Union members fell to Inflation. Fair
Wage was not taken directly, but toppled under the limp form of Senior
Executive after the Professor had hurled him toward the old man in the ragged
brown suit.
Corporate Man
used the Greed-Gun to locate Professor Inflation’s position. He turned to face his flamboyant attacker,
dodged the first punch and swung a retaliatory blow, but when the light flashed
on, his fist swept through empty space. Inflation
had Corporate Man in a submission hold before the light went out again.
“Down with the
Union . Down with
Corporate Man,” said Professor Inflation.
He jabbed a knuckle into Corporate Man’s temple. Corporate Man crumpled to the floor.
Professor
Inflation chuckled, low and maniacal, then said, “And now all that’s left is
you… Dollar Man. ”
5.x.
Professor
Inflation circled, his flickering image jittering in a wide arc. Franklin Buck instinctively backed away,
fearing that every flash of light would reveal a charging adversary. The floor and ceiling were still converging
but it was doubtful that he’d survive long enough for it to be a real concern.
“Pathetic,”
said Professor Inflation. “Your father
never backed away. Not once. You’re not worthy to wear his tacky green
suit.”
Franklin Buck
stopped, his shoulders slumping slightly with shame. Then, slowly, he raised his fists up in front
of his face.
“Oh, that’s
rich,” Professor Inflation said.
“Priceless even. You’re ‘the dollar man.’ That might have meant something a long time
ago. When the dollar had more
value. Maybe if you were the One Hundred
Dollar Man, or even the Ten Dollar Man, I might hesitate, might not do what I’m
about to do. But the Dollar Man?”
Professor
Inflation moved with a slow deliberateness, making sure his actions could be seen
in the strobing light. He pressed a
large button on his wrist gauntlet.
Marquee lights surged up and down the piping of the Professor’s pink
suit and cape.
“Wow! What a show huh? You can see me now can’t you, Dollar
Boy. Are you ready? You ready for what’s coming?”
Professor
Inflation cocked his head and said, “Really?
Even with…” he gestured to the limp forms of the other Union members
strewn about them.
“Well…
Yeah. I’ve been thinking,” the Dollar
Man said. “My name’s Franklin . So why can’t
I be the One Hundred Dollar Man?”
“Because
that’s absurd,” said Professor Inflation.
“You can’t just suddenly declare that you have more value. And change you name.”
Franklin Buck
shrugged.
Professor
Inflation charged. A flicker image of
the caped menace strobed through the dark, the marquee lights visible
throughout the attack with the professor’s body disappearing into the black as
the fluorescents blinked.
A snap kick
flashed toward Franklin Buck’s head. The
image frozen in light one moment, gone in the following black; marquee piping
continuing to trace the maneuver. In the
next burst of light Franklin Buck gripped Professor Inflation’s ankle, the
kicking foot only four inches away from the Dollar Man’s face. There was no change in the next few after
images. The two men remained locked in
this stance for an eon of a heartbeat.
Then Franklin raised his
free hand, elbow brushing against the ceiling, and called out, “Feel the
crushing weight of ten thousand pennies!”
He hammered his
fist across Professor Inflation’s chest, driving the doctor of malign economics
to the ever rising floor. In the
flickering light, Franklin Buck raised his hand again and said, “Fell the
purchasing power of the One Hundred Dollar Man!”
The next
hammering blow pounded the remaining wind from Professor Inflation’s
lungs. A third knocked all conscious
thought from his brain.
5.y.
In the lobby
of the Jacob Center
Tower a man in a long trench coat
casually strolled toward one of the black corner columns of the building. He removed an object from his coat. It looked a lot like a credit card except
there was a rounded bump in the center. On
the bump was a decal that resembled an eyeball.
It had cost this trench coated man a great deal to acquire the iris pattern. He held it in front of the dark glass of the
black column. The man did not enjoy
standing in this position because it made the asymmetry of his arms very
noticeable. He was pleased when the
optical verification of the retinal scanner triggered and quickly lowered his
arm.
The trench
coated man put the card away and held the hand of his larger arm over the hand
print identification area of the glass.
He’d also spent a fortune on the hand print graft.
There was a
hiss and a door slid open in the black column.
The man stepped inside. The
elevator was smooth, metal, and clean with plush emerald carpeting. A slim vertical panel featured two
quarter-sized buttons. Below them was a
series of smaller, pencil eraser shaped metal nubs. The smaller buttons were inscribed with
negative numbers. On the two larger
buttons were the numbers 13 and 26.
Using his
smaller arm the man fingered a sequence into keypad embedded in his wrist. He wanted to verify the funds transfer before
committing.
It was all
there.
He didn’t
grin. Not really. The thing that happened on his face was more
like a grimace of barely detectible pleasure.
It was there for an instant and then it was gone again.
The man in the
trench coat pressed the button marked 26.
5.z.
Franklin Buck
raced to Corporate Man’s side, hunching low in the ever constricting
space. Fair Wage had regained his
footing and was helping Senior Executive stand.
“We’ve got to
get out of here,” Franklin Buck said, slap-tapping Corporate Man’s face. “Inflation’s out cold so there’s no one to
stop it.”
Corporate Man
rolled onto his knees and pressed his fingers into his temples, eyes
squinting.
“Report!” he
called out.
“Demand is
still secure and Supply has already shaken off the attack. Their size ratios are equalizing,” said
Business Woman. “Fair Wage and Senior
Executive seem viable.”
“I need an
exit,” said Corporate Man.
“It’s that
way,” Fair Wage said, pointing off into the flickering darkness. “It’s quite far.”
“Then let’s
move,” Corporate Man said.
The Union
lumbered off. Fair Wage and Corporate
Man each grabbed a corner of Professor Inflation’s cape and dragged the limp
form.
It wasn’t long
before they were forced to their hands and knees in the shrinking space.
“We’re not
going to make it unless we lose the professor,” said Fair Wage, the floor
pressing his back up against the ceiling.
Corporate Man did not hesitate and released his grip on Professor
Inflation’s cape.
“Where is it,
Fair Wage?” Franklin Buck called out. He
was well ahead of all the others. “I’m
at the corner of the room and there’s no ex–”
The floor fell
away beneath him and Franklin Buck tumbled away into the darkness. He screamed.
The sound was deafening in the cramped space.
“What just
happened?” Corporate Man yelled.
“Franklin . He disappeared. Dropped through the floor,” said Business
Woman.
“Into the
sharks?”
“I don’t
know. Maybe. Wait.
I hear him. He says it’s
okay. We’re going in after him,” she
said. Business Woman, Supply, and Demand
rolled into the void in the floor.
Senior Executive dropped in right behind them.
Corporate and
Fair Wage were on their stomachs, army crawling, the floor still pressing
upward, about to crush them into the ceiling.
They felt pressure on their chests and on their backs, friction now
hindering their movements.
Then they
toppled into the shaft and landed on something soft and spongy.
“Did everyone
make it?” Corporate Man asked.
“Yeah, I think
we’re all accounted for,” said Senior Executive. “But where are we?”
A seam of
light pierced the darkness as Fair Wage opened a door embedded in one of the
walls. The Union
crept through opening, careful and cautious, and found themselves in a
reception area.
“Good morning,
and welcome to the offices of Incorporated Business Corporate Incorporated. Section Thirteen here at Jacob
Center Tower . I’m Betty.
How may I assist?”
They
froze.
Most of the Union
held their breath.
Betty didn’t
seem to notice the awkward pause, nor did she seem eager to sprout blades from
her fingers and attack. Corporate Man
finally took a breath and approached the desk.
“Well, Betty,
we’re all finished here but they said we were needed upstairs. Would you advise us where to go next?”
Betty smiled
and said, “I suggest you take the elevator.”
She gestured
toward a set of doors opposite here desk.
Corporate Man, expecting to see the entrance to a stairwell, was
surprised by the elevator doors. He
thanked Betty and pushed the button marked with the upward pointing arrow. The doors slid open and a man in a long
trench coat flinched, his eyes flaring wide.
His hand flashed inside his coat and he shoved an odd, square barreled
gun against Corporate Man’s chest.