** Date: 06.06.1029 PNT // Thursday**
** Time: 06:33 // 6:33 AM **
** Location: Ecosystem Mika // Habitat Melissa // District 9 // Sector 1 // Elturf Lane 8 **
** Zip&Clip Office // 14. Floor // Cubicle: 161 **
Naijel still had almost half an hour before his shift officially started. And still no sign of Markis. Thank fuck. Maybe today was not gonna be as bad. Every day that man came with something new; not even interesting or useful, just random shit. The last time he talked about the contestants from the talent show ‘Melissa’s Finest.’ For 30 minutes straight.
At exactly 7:00 AM, the light in his cubicle turned on. A soft digital bell rang. The first phones rang in the distance. He took the glasses off the table and put them on. A screen appeared in front of him. A green door in the left bottom corner with a timer above it. A window opened, and a robot voice read it out loud:
Good morning, Brother Naijel #37385037984!
Loyalty Level: 34
Trust: 450/100000
Acts of Loyalty the last month: 8
Total decrease by 87%
Brother, we have noticed you have been less committed to the cause than at the beginning. Do not worry! As this happens to the best of your brethren, be assured each one of them came out of their ditch stronger and more committed than ever.
We have, however, decided to stop offering you optional Acts of Loyalty. As they would be much better in the hands of someone who not only needs the money but is also willing to put in the necessary work in it.
This agreement benefits all parties. Do not worry! As long as you do your necessary tasks, you will be safe with us. We do urge you, however, to fix what is going on in your private life. Maybe even get professional help if needed.
In that case, please do not hesitate to talk to us! As we have plenty of resources to help you out. Company therapists, counselors, psychiatrists, analysts, and doctors are all here to help you!
Best Regards, Overseer Ruben Kruman
The optional rewards were meager and not worth the additional work anyway. Naijel closed the window, and the first phone call came immediately.
“Good morning, Zip&Clip customer service. My name is Naijel Junxei; identity #37385037984. How may I help you?”
First, nothing. Then static crackling. “Hello?” an elderly lady whispered on the other side.
Oh, for fuck's sake, this is gonna take my whole morning. This one fucking phone call. That is what he thought. What he said was, “Hi, ma’am. How may I help you today?”
She coughed and took heavy breaths. She didn’t understand him and kept repeating “What?” until he finally shouted into the microphone and she replied. “The robot is broken. You don’t have to shout, young man.”
Naijel closed his eyes, inhaled, and exhaled. “Which robot do you mean, ma’am?”
“The robot by your company.”
“Our company makes many different robots, all of a different purpose.”
“It is the vacuum one.”
“Okay, ma’am, I assume you are wearing your glasses?” The old lady had them on. Naijel sent her a form asking for permission to look through her glasses and see what she sees. “Can you press that big button for me?”
It was the button to turn it on. It did not work. The small screen showed an empty battery. “It keeps showing me this red square. My grandkids sent me this. At first it worked fine.”
“Haven’t they shown you how to use it?”
“No, they just keep saying, ‘Put it on the station.’” She first seemed like she was done. “I tried to call them, but they are so busy, you know?”
Now he felt like an asshole. “Okay, ma’am. In the package should be a flat machine with a cable. Put the cable in a power outlet, and then put the robot onto the platform.” It took her another 10 minutes until she finally made it. But she did.
When he finally finished this ‘Repeatable Daily,’ he could finally accept the ‘Main Task’ of today.
Main Task: Day 1300
Priority: Highest
Private Client: R. A. Sheppard
Type: Smart Home Solution
Organize a full, complete system blueprint for a smart home in District 13.
The client had many different wishes and was very detailed about the layout.
This task comes with a 15-page document explaining every detail and 25 images.
Just another house for another rich asshole. When Naijel started out, he was shocked by all the different and questionable things people, especially the rich ones, wanted to put in their homes. Cameras on the whole property, even the bathroom and bedrooms. This guy wants 20 floors plus a helipad. Five of these floors will be in the basement.
And it's excessive. Two of the floors are just sex dungeons. One is a giant ball pool, and another three are just for pools. (They connect through water slides, starting from the rooftop.)
He typed away. Like everyone else in the hall. Either typing, walking back and forth, or talking on the phone. He never sees their faces. Just listen to them. The man in #162 divorced his wife six months ago. He seems happier than before. At least that is what he kept saying and still was to his relatives and friends on the phone.
Footsteps at around 8:45 bringing a stack of flash drives to the encryption department. Her dog died recently. She can’t stop crying. Everyone has been especially nice to her.
And #160 is not here today. Again, thank fuck, he thought. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Naijel let out a sigh and stared at the ceiling. He finally had a day in which he could just spend the 15-minute break in silence. He took the elevator to the rooftop. No one besides him was here. It took the lift around 5 minutes to get to the top. So most people just used the balconies on their floors.
He sat on the floor, lit a cigarette, and lay down. At exactly 9:00 am the monorail squeaked at the station in front of the building, like it always does. ‘Line 4A parked. Please step away from the doors.’ Three beeps, the pressure released, the doors opened. Children, laughing, fighting, shouting came out walking while their parents tried to drag them to school.
“Hey there, little sloth.” Miranda stood next to him.
“Hi there… I don’t know… goat?” He replied.
The sweat on her brown skin caught the light like cognac. “It’s just 2 levels.” She sat next to him. “By the way. I reached Level 100 and applied for a promotion to the next tier.”
“Shit, congratulations!” He sat up. “I, on the other hand, got blocked off optional tasks.” He said proudly.
Miranda rolled her eyes and hit his shoulder. “You are such a lazy piece of shit.” She shook her head. “I have seen some of your social media posts, your travels. How the fuck do you even afford a lifestyle like that?”
Naijel laughed. “Honestly, I am just living off some inheritance.” He offered Miranda a cigarette. She declined. “And I am also living quite humble.”
Miranda had raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Bet!” Another hit on the shoulder. “Whatever it is, maybe one day you could show me…” She said as she looked on the ground. “Or you could tell me over a drink, maybe tonight?” She turned towards him.
He smiled. “I would love that.” He sighed. “However, I am a bit in-between-”
“In between projects and things lately.” She finished the sentence. “That is what you always say. I think you are lying.” She smiled as she said that. “And don’t tell me you have no interest. I’ve seen how you look at me.”
Naijel blushed. He tried to hide a smile. “Look-”
“No, you look. This Saturday. 8pm, you pick me up.” She said as she walked away.
Naijel finished his cigarette, and when he was back in his cubicle, he was already 10 minutes late and missed 5 phone calls. The rest of the day went by slowly, and Markis was not there.
Until he was during lunch break. He kept talking about the injury he got from golfing with his uncle from the Julia Habitat. The doctors were not good enough, the ambulance was late, and the personnel were assholes. Having been through that hellhole, Naijel left work looking forward to Saturday.
Before he got home, however, he had to go to the studio. His friend sent him a text: “Got new tunes! You have to give it a listen.” He took the next line towards District 12. Not a place you wanted to be around this time. However, not his first time.
A high grey tower with many small windows in front of him. He rang a bell with an empty nameplate. Three times quick. Twice as long. Three times quick. The door opened, and he made his way into the stairway.
A skinny, pale, topless woman in high heels and a miniskirt locked deep into Naijel’s. “Only 10 masks for you, cutie.” Her smile showed her scarred gums and black teeth, at least the ones that were left.
“No, thank you.” He replied with a smile and continued his climb upstairs. The building had 200 floors. He had to be on floor 148 and was not allowed to use the elevator. None of the 10 working ones.
He didn’t mind too much. It was interesting to eavesdrop on the people in the building. Apartment 15-A had a fight over unpaid rent. Heavy Metal music from apartment 46-B. Beds shaking and a woman moaning in apartment 112-A. As it does when her husband wasn’t around. Usually he was judgemental about that, but the case here was different. In the past he could hear him screaming and shouting. Quite disrespectful stuff. From the sounds of it he had also broken a bunch of stuff that night. All because she didn’t prepare dinner.
When he finally reached his goal, he yet again had to knock. This time: three quick knocks. A pause. Two more knocks. The door opened. “Oh shit, Naijel, my man.” A tall, skinny man embraced him.
The room was barely lit with an ever-changing nebula. In the background, hip hop music from the AD era. It was a boom-bap beat. The language seemed to be a European one. Spanish or Portuguese. Naijel sat in his usual spot. The couch on the opposite side of Veiran. “You got something good?”
“Yeah, man, look.” He frantically pulled out his laptop and headphones. “I have been working silently on this banger for the last two years, man.” He was about to give the headphones to Naijel but pulled them away. “I need you to respect this man. Everything I have learned, I poured into this.” He closed his eyes, held the headphones in the air, and proclaimed, “This is my Magnum Opus.”
“I know, man. You are a fucking artist.” Naijel took Veiran by the shoulders. “No fucking ril.0, no Lil Buckshot, and definitely no Lorel can beat you.” He slapped him. “Look at me. I know this is gonna blow my fucking mind.” Veiran opened his eyes. “Give. Me. The. Headphones.”
“Okay, man, chill.” Veiran put the headphones on Naijel’s head. He handed him the joint and pushed him onto the couch. “It’s called ‘Lost Home.’”
A gentle pierce through both ears. Like a thread going through his head and connecting in the middle of his brain. A deep bass vibrated through his head; it made its way to his nose, mouth, and face. Everything was tickling. Like leaves stroking over his face. It became a jungle of leaves and covered his whole body.
Then a very light static. His body slowly pushed through the leaves until he was on his feet. The floor sank in on itself like warm mud between his toes. He took one step and another. Getting closer to the static. With every step it got louder.
Until there was no other sound. He opened his eyes. A lake, with a waterfall big enough to make it rain onto the whole forest area. Next to the lake was a small wooden hut. He made his way inside. Naijel sat on a couch. Next to him, a fireplace. The wood crackled in the fire. Light taps on the wooden floor came closer. A German shepherd walked into the room and rested his head on Naijel’s lap.
Naijel tore open his eyes and grasped for air. “This… This is actually a fucking masterpiece.”
“I know.” Veiran put his palm on his chest. “I am the best.”
“How much is the dose?”
“This was 3 seconds.” Veiran had a devilish grin. “On average a file like that… well, there is no file like that. But the ones that are very effective are still around 45 seconds long.”
“Okay, how much for 10000 temp-copies?”
“For you I will do 500 veils.” They agreed on the prices, transferred money and files, and smoked another joint.
Naijel jumped off his couch. “Shit, I forgot.” He packed his backpack and put on his shoes. “Sorry, I was meant to meet up with this guy.”
“What guy?”
“One of my other clients. He has been asking for software.” Naijel squinted his eyes. “Dude came out of nowhere asking for age-old technology and software.”
“What’s his deal?”
“I don't know, but he pays well and leaves me alone most of the time. Only ever talks to me to buy stuff. That’s the client I like.”
“I feel the same for most men.” They both grinned. “Except you, of course.”
Naijel ran out and jumped into the next line towards District 11. The usual spot for this person. The recreational space in the abandoned Rovers Mall. No one apart from teenagers and drunk students comes here.
The area was cold, and the air felt wet. Light fog hovered above the ground and crawled into the mall. From the outside it looks dangerous, but if you are there during a busy night, it seems more like a street festival. Thursday evenings were a dead day. He made his way to the old ice cream place.
Light steps from the shadows came closer. As usual, he would wear a medicinal mask, sunglasses, and a black hoodie. “Hey, there you are. My favorite client.” Naijel said with a smile. The stranger held a flash drive towards Naijel, who accepted it with no hesitation.
“Still a man of few words.” Naijel looked at the man as if he was in love and handed him a different stick. “See you around.”
The man left. “Love that guy.”
