An Eighty Percent Solution (CorpGov) (11 page)

“Bye, Cin
.
Sorry about keeping you in the bathroom,” Tony said, scooting the kitten inside, “but it
’
s for your own safety
.
We’ll work something out soon
.”
Still thinking of a way to make it more comfortable for her, he dashed out the door
.

* * *
 

Stripping off the smock, to preve
nt even more blood
stain
ing
the white fabric, she revealed that only a small patch around her curly pubic hair and an area about three centimeters wide over her spine remained virgin to the ink
-
bearing needles
.
The cryptic symbols still bore no obvious meaning to the uninitiated.

She used the blood
-
spattered
apron
to wipe her face before tossing it into a sink full of soapy water
.
She returned to
the
exam room with a cleaver, a cutting board, a large glass punch bowl and a plastic garbage bag
.
Several of the cats joined her, but the two dogs waited at the threshold
.
The cats arrayed themselves around the room on any horizontal surface available
.

A slit in the victim’s jugular allowed the
body’s
remaining fluid
s
to drain
into
the
punch bowl over several minutes
.
Jointing the limbs took the better part of an hour
,
and eviscerating the torso took another thirty minutes
.
When
she’d completed her grisly task
the garbage bags almost overflowed with a protein bounty for her
pets
—
after suitable adulterations
, of course
.

After storing the meat, Sonya put on a pot
.
Covered in blood, she tilted back in the plastic chair to savor her
g
oddess tea
.
She yearned to be clean
,
but her pathological need for a tidy environment meant she couldn’t stop quite yet
.
Her normally pristine exam
ination
room needed to be returned to its semi-sterile state
.

She spent t
he rest of the day scrubbing, sanding, and disinfecting blood, bone
,
and brain tissue from the walls and floor
.
As Sonya
meticulously
scrubbed the hardwood floors with a stiff wire brush
,
she sang quietly
,
“That old black magic has me in its spell, that old black magic that you weave so well
…t
hose icy fingers up and down my spine, the same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine
…
”

The three cats
that
remained with her throughout the entire process sat on the examining table crooning with her
a cappella
.

Implement
—
Phase
Two

“
Nanogate
Building
Four, Level one-hundred-fifty-one,” came the soft, computer generated, pseudo-female voice over the bus PA
.
Even the voices were designed to keep the sheep of mankind at rest
.
Tony mumbled
his standard
apologies as he got his
190
centimeter height and
1
50 kilo
mass out through the
tightly packed
commuters.

He jogged through the
6
meters of uncovered sky and perpetual drizzle to the covered entrance
of
his personal purgatory
—
the Dental Division of
Nanogate
Corporation
.
“Wet day today,” he said to no one in particular
.
“Hope we
’ll
see
some
sun soon
.”

He brushed at the rain clinging to his gray imitation-tweed suit
and
shook his long
,
loose hair
.
A quick check in the reflection of the great glass doors
allowed him
to straighten
his
burgundy tie
before joining
the
rest of the
throng entering
yet
another day as
an insignificant
cog in the
megacorp
machine
.

The atrium stood
30
meters
high
,
bearing a genuine Thaddeus sculpture filling at least
70
percent of that height
—
a grotesque and misshapen representation of a human
worker
floating over those starting their workday
.
It reminded Tony of the
commissions
Stalin
made
back in the
C
old
W
ar
.
Some might call it art
,
but Tony chose to think of it as
not
-
so
-
subtle intimidation
.
H
e couldn’t decide if it symbolized what the
megacorp
s did to those that worked for them
,
or if its sheer size indicated how little significance the
megacorp
s
placed on each worker
.

Tony’s cube, comprised of one-point-three
-
meter
-
high carpeted pseudo-walls with a desktop and computer workstation built
in, held only one bit of uniqueness
—
a single climbing ivy decorated the otherwise sterile environment
.
One of the benefits of his grade level was an office on the floor of the Tri-Met drop
.
“No more
climbing
stairs
,” Tony muttered to himself, nudging one of his peers next to him as they watched the multitude of drones climbing the bank of stairs
.
His mind
,
however
,
darted
back
to Cin
—
her playfulness, the softness of her fur, and how expressive the tiny face and large eyes could be
.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus
.
“Time to hit the grindstone,” he said less than enthusiastically
.
The coworker mumbled
his
agreement
.

His rear barely
had
hit the seat when a solido appeared on his desk
.
The less-than-honorable Mitch Anson’s face turned directly toward him
.
Having no innate engineering talent of his own, Mitch adeptly wormed his way into other people’s accomplishments and took some or even all the credit
.
From what Tony knew
,
Mitch could accept a bribe with one hand and
the reward
for
betraying the briber
with the other
.
Neither of these methods stood as
particularly
groundbreaking in history
,
but
that’s how
Mitch managed to become Junior VP of Research so quickly
.
Mitch even
now
lustfully looked
forward
to removing the
“
Junior.
”

Even in these days of backstabbing and backroom deals, Tony felt his boss held a position one ecological step above a tapeworm
without morals
.
The counterargument was that h
e knew his boss felt him to be the equivalent
of
a rabbit who
existed only
as an intermediate step in the food chain
.
Those were the words Mitch had spoken to a mutual friend
.
As a result of this mutual admiration, or lack thereof, Tony’s assignments often reminded one of beef jerky rather than caviar.

“Sammis, report to my office at once
,
”
ordered Mitch
.
While th
e
voice
normally felt chilly
,
Tony recognized an abnormal brusqueness
.
The solido winked out as quickly a
nd
abruptly as it
had
materialized.

“Looks like Anson
’
s in an ass-kicking mood today, gang,”
h
e
announced
over the low partitioning walls
.
A few snickers floated up from behind the anonymous
facade
.
“Be on your best behavior
.”
Several
more
chuckles followed
, but not too loudly
,
for fear of reprisals.

Anson’s office sported a
30
meter
-
wide view of the
170
-
acre
Nanogate
Botanical
Forest
.
As the
third
largest open natural area within
twelve hundred kilometers
, and within the top
four hundred
largest in the world
—
moving up if the Yosemite Prison Bill passed the UN
—
it required eighty
full
-
time gardeners.

The décor could
’
ve been copied out of any up-and-comer’s office
,
with an oversized desk, antique leather chair, plastic
straight
-
backed chairs for underlings to sit in, private bathroom, wet bar, and a red-headed, buxom secretary who shot Tony lasers as he entered and she left
.
The two
Nanogate security officers, in body armor not dissimilar to that of a Metro,
on either side of Anson’s desk didn’t
exactly
fit the image
.
No
r did a
short
, blond
man
wearing
only the yellow vinyl tights of a bodyguard
. He stood
idly nearby
with arms carefully fol
ded behind his back.

“No, don’t bother to sit down, Sammis
.
I’m going to make this short and sweet.
You
’
r
e
fired
.
You have one hour to collect your personal belongings
—
under the watchful eye of our security forces
,
of course
—
and get out
.”

“Why?” Tony sputtered
, barely even able to comprehend this disaster
.

“You
’
ve been charged with practicing medicine without a license, possession of a personal vehicle, and resisting arrest
.
We here at
Nanogate
do
n’t
need that type of publicity
.

“Personally, I didn’t think you had it in you, Sammis, but the prime rule is ‘Don’t get caught.’ You are through in the corporate world
.”

“
B-but
I’ve never done anything like those things!”
Tony protested weakly.

“Doesn’t matter, Sammis
.
We don’t want you around
.
You’ll give
Nanogate
a bad name just by association.
As far as the government goes, they
’ll
probably never get around to trying you for your crimes, so we here at
Nanogate
will take the appropriate action as defined by corporate precedent
.
You’
re to be cut out like a cancer.