McQuarry couldn’t be sure that everything he just witnessed wasn’t a stress induced hallucination, but he decided to roll with it. To his delight, Maygan never asked about salary, benefits, perks, profit sharing, time off, sick leave, or any of the other things he could give a shit about. In fact, she seemed unaware of the details of the job posting entirely. But she told him she had decades of training and worked at many corporations to remove “their demons.” She echoed many of the words that McQuarry often heard from his psychiatrist and seemed to have some experience there. 

Also, not too small a point, but it had been a year without any applicants for the HR Lead role. The recruiters told McQuarry it was because “no one wants that role in a toxic company like Automatomics.” The memory still stung as he announced “you are now the Human Resources Lead.” He said each word without hesitation. And then he went back inside his head to relive those painful memories. 

Maygan’s head tilted as she tried to decipher the meaning of his proclamation. 

There was another light knock on the door. “Sir, it’s Scooter. Can I come in?” 

McQuarry looked around the room erratically like maybe he was not entirely present in the moment. “Scooter from HR will be in to get you started,” he said shaking her hand and rushing out the door. But he stopped and turned to her. “Maygan, we must keep your work with me confidential. I don’t want people gossiping about my problems. My ‘demons’ as you say.” 

Maygan stood in the midst of the meeting room soaked in demon guts. “I’m very discreet.” As McQuarry left the room she whispered to her swords, “Hon. Koga. We have a lot of work to do here. We must get you back up to full power.” 

A short, bespectacled man entered the room, his full sized stomach entering first. He had his hand outstretched for a handshake. “You must be Maygan. Hi I’m- jumping junebugs! What happened in here,” he exclaimed taking a huge step back out of the room. 

“There was a problem with the ceiling. Leakage I think,” she responded, smiling, not following his gaze. 

Scooter poked his chubby face back into the room. His heavy glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. “Woah, I’ll contact facilities. Gosh, leakage from what? But anyway, welcome to Automatomics, I’m Scooter,” he said. He was a small man with a small voice. His eyes were hidden beneath an impressive pair of thick lenses, his brown hair a tangle of bedhead. 

“Scooter it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Maygan said with a slight bow. “I’m extremely interested to see the rest of the building.”

“Oh we only do that for… wait, did you get hired?” 

“I was told to fix all your problems,” she said, head held high, arms crossed. 

“Wow, I thought we’d never fill that role. When do you start,” Scooter asked struggling to keep up with the pace of developments. 

“Right now,” Maygan said matter of factly.   

“Holy cow. I need to get you all the paperwork. I’ll warn you, there is a lot.”

“I’d love to sign autographs, but there is much to do and so little time.” She considered him for a moment, a mouse of a man, wondering if he was representative of the rest of the employees at Automatomics. “Is there more to your team?” 

“Well since Patty left, it’s been just me. Well technically I’m not even doing real HR. I was hired to do AI neural network design, but I do some IT, inventory, marketing, and some light cleaning. We’re a bit understaffed. But if you need to know anything about this place, ask me first. I probably know something about it. But I’m mainly recruiting right now. We lost a bunch of employees recently. Like we literally can’t find them.”

“My heavens. Have you been successful wearing so many hats?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely. I mean, kinda. I haven’t hired anyone. I’m actually terrible. But I have a lot of certificates I’ve earned on the internet. Automatomics gives money for continuing education, so I figured why not? If you need a life coach or low light photography, I’m your guy.” It was as if she saw his ego deflate and inflate like a cheap party balloon with the flow of their conversation. 

“It’s a tough market to find qualified candidates,” she shot back, finger in the air as if reciting a well known fact. “You strike me as an extremely talented person. Who else could do as many different kinds of things as you.” 

The comment brightened his day. “I’ll take you to the HR office where you can get started on your paperwork,” he said enthusiastically. “Let’s check out your new desk.” 

“A desk? Is this HR office where you store the weapons,” she asked. “Or perhaps where they are forged?”  

Scooter laughed and kept walking. 

He led her through the western wing of the Automatomics building where the hallways had towering ceilings and rooms became cavernous. Maygan was convinced the building was designed by giants. It reminded Maygan of long ago in arenas where she fought and nearly died. But unlike those arenas, Automatics was not painted in blood and decorated with corpses. At least not yet. The clean, sterile aesthetic was unfamiliar to her, and she considered this disadvantage . 

Scooter led Maygan into a vast room filled with long tables lined with chairs. Shelves lined the nearest wall, offering an endless bounty of snacks and drinks to the employees. A room fit for feasting after battle.  

“We’ve entered the Mead Hall,” Maygan commented. “It’s quite impressive.” 

Scooter was lost in the crude map he held in his hands. “It says we’re here but that can’t be right.” 

Maygan saw her office was in a dark corner of the cafeteria where the janitors stored racks of unused folding chairs. Her desk was an old cardboard box flipped upside down. There was a strange puffy bag located right next to the box, unlike anything she had seen before. It looked like a bloated unicorn, but obviously it could not be because they were all long since perished. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. 

“What is that,” she asked Scooter 

“The bean bag chair? I think someone’s kid left it here. Kids love unicorns, you know. Feel free to grab any of those other chairs to use,” he said pointing at the multitude of folded chairs. “Take your pick.” 

Scooter held the map close, double checking he was reading it correctly. “To be fair I’ve never been to the HR office before, sooooooo… I think this is it.” 

It was nondescript and at this location it would be almost impossible for Maygan to be victim to an ambush. “It will do nicely,” Maygan said.  “Now where are the weapons?” 

Scooter chuckled again. “Well, we have a decent selection of snacks over on that wall. It’s all free, so help yourself. And if you like coffee, we have a CoffeeAssassin who makes a mean cup of joe.” 

“I’ll have to speak with this Assassin,” she said. “Her services might come in handy.”   

“Here, take this.” Scooter handed her a small circular pin. “It’s a communication pin. It’s something I’ve been working on after work. If you need me, just tap and talk. I’m happy to help.” 

“This will be incredibly helpful. By chance, do you happen to have a list of usual events. Or a record of strange accidents or grisly deaths? Perhaps a heat map of energy fluctuations?”

“Patty stole the HR files and sold them to reporters after she left. So you probably want the employee suggestion box. McQuarry had me throw it out, literally this morning. I’ll see if I can get it.” There was something else on his mind that he struggled to get out. “Would you mind if I said I recruited you? I’ll get a cash bonus for getting you.” 

“Please do, Scooter. And thank you for your help. You have been very kind to me. I look forward to our battles together.”

“Me, too,” he said doing a mock karate kick which almost sent him to the floor.  

He turned to go quickly from the room to get the employee suggestions before the GarbageDevourer digested them. 

Maygan’s bean bag chair was more comfortable something that looked like a demonic scrotum. The location of her desk turned out to be advantageous, as a steady stream of employees walked through the cafeteria on their way to other places. Most didn’t notice the petite woman with the swords sitting hunched over a cardboard box in the corner of the room. But some did. They would notice in the midst of conversation with a coworker, their work-smile turning to gaping open mouth. Then they would walk much faster. Maybe it was the samurai swords. People would come to the cafeteria to quietly talk smack about their coworkers. Some would come to stare endlessly at the snack shelf, as if in a zen state waiting for the correct snack answer to strike them. Then some people would walk in just to rip a giant fart. Her bionic ears heard everything and it gave her a chance to study the workers. Demons were a clever bunch. 

Scooter returned some time later with the suggestion box. It looked like he had gone through some trouble to get them. His hair was tussled, clothes dirty and disheveled. He was missing a shoe.

“Hopefully you didn’t go through  much trouble to get this,” Maygan said as she eagerly received the box. She spread the paper cards over the floor and knelt down to sort through them. 

“No, no. All good. Just had to, ya know, crawl into the garbage compactor to get them,” he said. 

“Lovely, lovely. Thank you Scooter. Do you happen to know how many people live in this village?”

“Ha! It’s funny how you use different words in England. Last time I checked, there were 350 full time employees, 100 temporary employees, 25 android helper bots,” he said. 

“My, my that’s a lot of possible demons to sniff out,” Maygan said to herself.

 “Oh and there is one, fat therapy cat named Jabba,” Scooter added. 

“A therapy cat? I haven’t never encountered one,” Maygan said. “Does it use hypnosis or curses?” 

“No… Jabba actually doesn’t do much these days. He just kinda loafs on his cat bed, judging people.” Scooter rubbed his arm and looked away as if remembering a painful memory. 

“I love animals,” Maygan said. She had never met an animal that didn’t love her back. Unless it was possessed by demons. 

“Well I should probably find my other shoe,” Scooter said. He turned to leave Maygan to the employee feedback cards. 

* * * * 

Maygan 4 spent the rest of the morning reading the comments written down by the employees. For someone with Maygan’s training, a clear picture of the disfunction at Automatomics began to emerge.

There was one theme in particular that struck her:

“The F&D employees treat the rest of us like we’re not human.” - Anonymous

Maygan tapped the comm on her shoulder. “Scooter, are you there,” she said quietly. 

“What’s up, Maygan? If you hear, like a water noise, I’m washing dishes. I’m not in the bathroom.” 

Maygan wondered if Scooter remembered she was sitting in the cafeteria within view of the sink where there was clearly no Scooter. “What is F&D?”

“Uh, what? Umm. Oh you mean Fabrication and Design! The offices are in the basement. They don’t talk much to people outside the group.If you plan on talking to anyone there you have to put something on the calendar. They are extremely busy.”

“And which calendar is that? Pagan calendar? Lunar calendar? Circle of the Raptor?” 

“Actually I think it’s just Google calendar.” 

“Thanks Scooter.” She unsheathed her sword.  “Looks like I’ll be paying these F&D chaps a visit.”