Pending (3 page)

I wasn’t going to work today
until I got some answers, and that was that. They sent numerous supervisors and
technicians all morning trying to convince me otherwise, but I insisted on talking
to someone in charge. One I knew was in charge.

There was a knock at the door.
It was loud and insistent, nothing like Sandra’s had been. I knew it was precisely
who I needed to talk to. When I opened the door there was a man with dark hair wearing
a suit and tie, clearly annoyed by having to be there.

“You Trent?” he said.

“Yes. Come in.”

“Thank you. I’m Brian Rabin.
So what seems to be the problem?”

We shook hands and I went
to shut the door.

“Don’t bother. I won’t be
long.”

I stopped. “I want to marry
Sandra.”

“Good for you but not possible.
Not until you finish your work commitment. Have you done that?”

“Obviously not. I’m still
here.”

“Then you have work to do.
Let’s get to it.”

“I do a lot. I put out a lot
of energy for the surface.”

“Yes you do, and we appreciate
it.”

“I’ve done enough.”

“We determine that. It’s not
how much you’ve done but for how long you’ve done it. It has to be that way to be
fair to the other employees.”

“I want to go to the surface
now.”

Rabin gave a toothless smile.
“I’m sure you do. Don’t we all?” He sat down on a chair. “You realize how many strings
we had to pull to get her down here?”

So, he knew about her.

“Her situation is tied up
until just about past the time your work commitment expires. After that you can
do whatever you like, but until then you have to work. It’s just the way it is.
I know how hard it can be. Trust me.”

“When is your work commitment
over?”

“About twenty years,” he said,
and smiled.

I knew he was lying. He was
only saying it to make me feel better, but I didn’t say that.

“What did she say when you
proposed?” Rabin said.

“Well…”

“You’ve asked her, right?”

“I…”

“You haven’t asked her?”

“Well no. Not yet, I mean.”

He stood. “Dammit, Trent…What
the hell am I here for?”

I felt myself get angry, then
it dissipated, like a balloon deflating, as it seemed to always do. “I will marry
her…I love her.”

“I’m sure you do. I don’t
know what I’d do without my wife.”

“We both work at the same
place but you get to be married?”

“I’ve worked my way up at
this facility. It’s one of the benefits. You can do the same. Has no one ever told
you?”

I shook my head.

“Now you know.”

“How would I do it?”

“It’s different for everyone.
It just depends on how bad you want it. If you want it bad enough you’ll figure
it out. That’s not why I’m here. You can ask about it later.”

“And have more time added
to my work commitment?”

Rabin smiled. “I’ll see what
I can do.”

I felt foolish, but I needed
to know things.

“The life you want simply
isn’t possible until your work commitment is over,” he said. “I’m sorry. Is there
anything else I can do for you that will make life bearable until then?”

“I could use another day off.
Two in a row. It doesn’t matter when.”

Rabin nodded his head wordlessly.
“OK. I’ll see what I can do…Yeah, I can do that. Not sure when, but I’ll get with
the scheduler.”

“Thanks.”

Before leaving, Rabin turned
and forced a smile. “It’ll be here before you know it.”

Then he shut the door behind
him.

I hoped he was right.

Jerrol and I got into an argument.
The frustration had been building between us for quite a while, and we hadn’t even
acknowledged each other for days. It came out of nowhere, and it was probably because
we were both shackled to those couplings, day after day, and I finally got sick
of his staring. He wasn’t even next to me or directly in front of me. He was out
of the room, across from me and to the side, nearly out of my view, but I could
still see him eyeing me. Damn annoying.

That wasn’t what got us into
an argument though. What got us into an argument was when I was walking past him,
talking to a supervisor about up top.

“Good luck with that,” he
said.

I spun. “What?”

“You think you’re special,
don’t you? You’re never going up there.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jerrol smiled at me the way
he always did, a condescending smile, the kind that hid true thoughts. It made me
want to concentrate and puree his insides, when all of a sudden I felt calm. I didn’t
want to hurt Jerrol, or anyone for that matter. It was weird. Every time I felt
angry, I was almost immediately calm, as if something was making me feel that way.

“What do you know about the
vitamins?” I said.

Jerrol suddenly got serious.
His smile faded, and he leaned forward. “Inhibitors.”

Before he could say more,
I heard running down the grating and saw that security had been alerted. They were
in full riot gear, and there were way too many of them.

“They control you!”

They grabbed Jerrol before
he could say any more, and then he was out of my sight.

“Get back to work,” the supervisor
said.

“Where are they taking him?”

“A hearing to decide how much
more time is added to his work commitment. You want the same?”

I’d never been threatened
so quickly. It meant I was close to finding out information that they didn’t want
me to find out about, and it had to do with the vitamins.

Those pills.

I suspected what they did,
but it never really hit me until then. Jerrol had called the pills an inhibitor.
I knew what inhibitor meant because it was also a component of the workstations.
I read all about them in detail because the workstation manuals were one of the
reading materials that I was encouraged to read. Because it was all I had at times,
I learned all about the machines that processed the energy that I created.

If there was an inhibitor in
my own mind, it was holding me back. Without it my power was exponential.

***

I went to my workstation that
night and turned the couplings off. I figured that since the power came from me,
most likely I’d be able to withstand the effects of whatever was produced. I held
them and concentrated and didn’t think about anything else. Not my uncertainty about
what I was doing here, up top, or Sandra. All I thought about was putting as much
energy into those couplings as possible, and the reaction was almost immediate.
I focused my energy, my power, and it felt like I was taking a large building and
bending it in half. The energy entered my own body instead of going through the
couplings. It permeated, penetrated, and I was absorbed, and just before I passed
out, I felt the inhibitors in my bloodstream disintegrate.

The release was instant. It
felt like my head had been in a vise, and that vise loosened pleasurably and was
finally gone, like I’d been holding my breath all along and could finally breathe.

I’d been in a fog my entire
life, and over the next few days the haze that was produced by those pills lifted.
The world around me was clearer, cleaner, louder. It was like before I could hear
a crowd from outside a room and now I was in the middle of them, and it was deafening.
Everything had changed. All my senses had heightened. My fingertips, my taste buds,
and even my cock. It was constantly up until I grabbed a hold of it like Sandra
had done. I had no idea how controllable my world was without sticky dreams.

I’d taken pills in the morning,
at lunch, dinner, and then before bed as long as I could remember. They’d called
them vitamins, but they weren’t; they were an inhibitor, and they had practically
reduced me to basic human function. I bet I was at a quarter of my capability on
the pills. Not taking them and the removal of the inhibitor unleashed me to be my
prime self. Without them I felt like a runner who got his legs back and was running
at full stride. I knew I was capable of more though, and I intended to find out
how much.

I still pretended to take
the pills, but I found that once they were in my mouth I could destroy them whenever
I wanted. All I had to do was think about them, allowing a speck of power to touch
them, and then they would disintegrate. Management had no idea.

I’d been under the influence
of those pills for so long that I had never truly been myself, and I’m still not.
Now I have room to grow. Who knows who I’ll be in a few years or even in a few hours.
I needed to talk to someone, so once again, I stopped showing up for work.

***

A supervisor I’d never seen
before came to my door. “What seems to be the problem?” he said.

“I have questions.”

“You’re well aware of the
repercussions of questions.”

“Do you know anything of value?”

“I’m going to report you,
Trent. More time will be added to your work commitment.”

He was trying to be tough
but was doing a poor job of it.

“I want to talk to Rabin.”

“He’s unavailable. Whatever
issue you’re having, you can tell me—”

“Fuck you!”

The supervisor looked like
he’d been slapped across the face.

“I want to talk to Rabin,”
I said slowly.

“He’s on the surface. He won’t
be back until Wednesday. It’ll take him a few days to catch up on the work he has
down here, so he’ll probably be able to come see you on Friday or at the latest
Tuesday. Will you go back to work until then?”

He was telling the truth,
or at least he believed what they’d told him.

“All right,” I said.

Cake, but no Sandra. When
I asked about her, they said she was up top, having satisfied her work commitment.
I didn’t even want to think about what her work commitment entailed. How many others
had she visited?

The time period the supervisor
had talked about elapsed months ago. No advice on how to get promoted. No sign of
Rabin, period. I didn’t expect anything and didn’t react. Not on the outside at
least. On the inside I was fuming and thinking about all of the ways to get the
hell out of Facility Three.

I’m starting to suspect they
know what I’m up to. I see eyes on me a lot while I’m working, and they all act
like they’re staring at their clipboards, but I see them doing a poor job of it.
When I look up they look away quickly to whatever they were pretending to be busy
with in the first place. I’ve become quite paranoid since I stopped taking the pills,
but my suspicion is that they are aware of that somehow, so I started acting how
I thought I behaved while I was taking those evil little pills.

Supervisors on the work floor
were new almost every day, like there were changes—big ones—being made. I decided
to ask each of them random questions to see if they were all on the same page. I
asked to talk to those who were high up in managing the facility, and they gave
me a series of random, inconsistent responses.

The next time I saw a new
supervisor pretending not to be focused on me I walked right up to him before I
even started working. He looked afraid as I approached. Not sure what that meant.

“I’d like to talk to whoever’s
in charge,” I said.

“They’re unavailable at the
moment.”

It was their most consistent
answer, and it didn’t even make any sense. He just had the response loaded.

“So no one’s in charge? Who
are you kidding?”

“Just hold on—”

“Any ladies that could visit
me?”

“None at the moment.”

“I’d like to speak to Rabin.”

“I think he’s satisfied his
work commitment. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

I know I’m being lied to.
I’m off the pills and lucid. Not only that but how stupid do they think I am? I’m
well aware of some sort of charade. Why are they hiding information? It seems pretty
simple down here. I know I’m never going to get the answers I’m looking for by ordinary
measures.

The ones on the top of the
productivity list, the ones they are constantly speaking of and showing everyone
and announcing over the loudspeaker, who are consistently and conveniently being
sent up top, probably don’t even exist. I’ve never met any of them.

“I’d like to speak to any
of those on top of the list. You know, the ones that all of you keep reminding me
to be as good as.”

“They’re currently unavailable
as far as I know.”

“The ones announced today?”

The supervisor turned bright
red. “Any more questions will result in time being added to your work commitment.”

“You’re fucking pathetic.”

***

I’ve realized something. The
charade, all of it has been for one purpose.

Me.

It’s the only way I can make
sense of it. I’ve never seen anybody as good at what I do as me. That’s why they
need me to keep doing it. I know I’m dangerous. I know how powerful I am. I can
feel it. I wonder if they know too.

I’m sure a lot of what I’ve
been told has been true, but there have been alternative motives. One of which is
to keep me busy. But busy from what? Probably from destroying anybody or anything
that crosses my path.

I’ve often wondered how powerful
I actually am. It feels like I’m wearing a shirt that’s too small for me, like it’s
made of tissue, and all I have to do is flex and I’ll destroy it. Except I’ve never
flexed, and I’m a little afraid to. That’s what this facility feels like to me,
and I’m growing stronger every day.

A few days later there was
a knock at my door before I even went to work. When I opened it, it was Rabin.

“Hey, Trent. How are you?”
Before I could answer he cut me off. “Heard you have some questions.”

I shook his hand. “I do, Mr.
Rabin.”

“Call me Brian.”

“I was told you wouldn’t be
able to make it.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Pointing
to a chair, he said, “Can I sit?”

“Go ahead. I’ve been told
that any unnecessary questions will result in more time added—”

He shook his head. “Don’t
worry about that. That’s usually the case, and true, but when it comes to the safety
of our personnel, certain rules can be temporarily vetoed. I’ve sent a memo up top
about that policy. It isn’t for you personally, it’s for the majority. It’s tough
down here. I don’t have to tell you that. Imagine how much time management has to
spend addressing personal issues for its employees, though. Too much. Getting that
policy changed will make it simpler in the future and won’t make it necessary to
do what I’m doing for you now. Not that you aren’t worth my time, but tending to
personal issues overall, I mean. You understand, right?”

“Sure.”

He was droning on in a creative
way. He was here because they were afraid. My sense that Facility Three wasn’t all
that it seemed was obvious. They were hiding something. Though I didn’t give any
hint of how I felt, I felt my anger building.

“We need all personnel working
at optimum capacity. There’s a lot going on up top.”

His smile made me want to
punch him. “Is your work commitment complete?”

“Nearly. A few months away.”

I wanted to see his reaction.

“I was told that you were
done.”

“Well, turned out there was
a paperwork mishap. Just my luck, right? So a few more months.”

“Do I have any time added
to my work commitment, even with all of the threats?”

“No.”

“Is Sandra ever going to visit
me again?”

“No. Her work commitment is
over. She’s up top. It’s entirely up to you to find her once you’re up there, too.
Not our concern.”

He wasn’t being completely
truthful. His eyes widened a little as he spoke, and it looked like he was trying
not to blink. It was all part of his act.

“Will I be able to leave once
my work commitment is over?”

“Yes! Of course you will.
I don’t have the exact date offhand, but I remember it as a few days past your thirtieth
birthday. Just a few short years away. It’ll be here before you know it.”

“That’s what everyone keeps
saying. I wish you were here earlier, when I needed to talk to someone I could trust.
Or, at least so I knew you were coming so I could write down questions I know I’m
not thinking of now that will piss me off later for forgetting to ask them.”

“I got some time, and before
I leave I’ll give you a contact number. It may take me a few days to get back to
you; I’m very busy…or if you call at the end of the week, I’ll get back to you the
following one, but I will get back to you. Your work is important to this company,
Trent. More than you know.”

“I bet you say that to all
they employees.”

“You’re damn right I do,”
he said, and laughed.

“Could you send me my overall
ranking throughout all facilities?”

“That isn’t something I can
say for sure, or at all. But I’ll talk to my boss and see if I can have that data
sent to you.”

“OK. Also, I’d like to see
a graph showing the amount of energy I’ve produced.”

Rabin exhaled. “Do you mind
if I ask why you want to know those things? They’re practically irrelevant. You’re
helping the surface. Shouldn’t that be all that matters?”

“Is it too much to ask?”

“No, Trent, but it’s a pain
in my ass. They’re real sticklers with info like that, but I’ll see what I can do.
If you don’t receive that information, it isn’t because I forgot, it will be because
I couldn’t get it.”

“You haven’t asked yet, yet
you already assume the information won’t be available.”

“All of this information will
be easier for you to retrieve once your work commitment is over. A lot of the energy
is, at times, directed into the military, so some information needs to be classified.”

I didn’t know that.

“Is there anything else that
you would like to know that I can help you with, Trent?”

It was annoying how much he
said my name. It was like he was trying to be friendlier than he really was or wanted
to be.

“Will Sandra marry?”

“How could we know that?”
he barked. “I honestly have no idea. She doesn’t work for us anymore. Would you
like us to send you someone else?”

I shook my head. No, of course
I didn’t. I couldn’t imagine being with any other woman. I loved her.

Rabin started nodding impatiently.
“Anything else, kid?”

“I can’t think of anything.
I’ve already taken up a lot of your time. Thank you very much for stopping by. I
truly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

Before he left, Rabin left
a contact number, as he said he would, and wrote “Brian R.” above it.