Charmitage Cyber. Inc. HQ
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Level 11
When he stepped off the monorail, he found himself facing the border between level 10 and 11. In front of him stretched a wall of black metal with multiple narrow passageways, each just wide enough for a single person. A city guard stood at every one of them. Men in uniforms, their heads sealed inside helmets with opaque visors. Cassien sometimes wondered what kind of faces they made under those helmets.
Employees of megacorporations, protected by the city, always had advantages with guards and police. They never caused trouble, and sometimes the guards didn’t mind looking the other way in the case of drugs or alcohol.
Cassien reached the front of the smoothly moving line and placed his palm on the scanner beside the passage. The light above it turned green, and he continued forward.
Once he crossed the border between levels 10 and 11, he found himself at the massive entrance of one of the colossal skyscrapers everyone in the area was heading toward.
He stepped inside, where rows of escalators stood side by side. They carried him up into a vast entrance hall in Neo Art Deco style. Everything was white and gold. The pillars, the floor, the ceiling—marble. At the far end stood a long counter staffed by robo?receptionists, from which two wide marble staircases branched upward. Huge advertisements for cybernetic implants and other inventions were mounted on the tall pillars. Hundreds of employees in identical uniforms moved through the hall with identical steps, and above them all, descending from the ceiling, hung a gigantic copper model of the globe, circling around the word CHARMITAGE.
“CHARMITAGE CYBERNETICS WELCOMES YOU. YOUR WORK CONTRIBUTES TO THE STABILITY OF WILLINGTON. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR DEDICATION. PLEASE BE REMINDED THAT ALL AREAS ARE UNDER SURVEILLANCE. THANK YOU FOR MAINTAINING INTERNAL BOUNDARIES.”
Cassien headed up the marble staircase and then into the elevator, where he once again felt like he was being packed into a tin can.
He stepped out at the Security Overwatch Division, immediately swallowed by the dark, somber atmosphere—so different from the bright white?and?gold hall below. The walls were black?gray, still decorated with Art Deco patterns. Blue neon strips ran along the upper edges. Everything felt cold, mechanical, as if built by a machine.
Departments in Charmitage Cybernetics varied. When Cassien first joined, he had been just another rat in a cubicle, one of hundreds of easily replaceable, soulless bodies doing the same task day after day. But over time he worked his way up to the Security Overwatch Division, where his job became safeguarding the corporation’s security and prosperity. At any cost. Now he was part of the big things, and his value in Willington was rising.
With that came more money, luxury, the right to move between multiple levels, stress…
He passed a wall with a photograph of a woman in a lab coat, framed in gold. The plaque read: Employee of the Year: Rika Schimizu.
He kept walking, head lowered. Voices of coworkers surrounded him, phones ringing, digiwriters clicking, constant announcements from the intercom.
He walked quickly, ignoring the faces around him. So far, it looked like an ordinary day.
He reached his office and closed the glass door behind him. The office walls were made of soundproof glass so the hallway cameras could still see inside and monitor whether you were working.
“Good morning, Mr. Ward,” his secretary stood up. “The recording from the Hands of Willington meeting has arrived.”
Cassien muttered something about sending it to someone else to review instead of him, hung his coat and hat on the rack, and moved to the other side of the office behind the partition. He sat at his desk, opened his briefcase, and pulled out the file for Samuel.
In this environment, you couldn’t trust anyone—not even the people closest to you. That’s why the building was connected by delivery systems for transmitting classified information through the Restricted Courier Line. His line led directly to his superior, Samuel Fain. He opened the small compartment and slid the file inside.
Then he leaned back, lit a v?cigarette, activated his digiwriter, and forced himself to start working.
Around half past four, when everyone was already exhausted and irritated, the phone rang. His secretary answered, then hung up a moment later.
“Mr. Fain needs you in his office immediately.”
Cassien sighed and rubbed his eyes, burning from a full day of staring at holograms and papers. He left his office with the box of Intellectual BOOM in hand. He took another pill—he’d lost track of how many today—and swallowed it dry. It scratched his throat, but his brain snapped awake again, sharpening his senses.
The quiet of his office gave way to the familiar clicking of digiwriters and intercom announcements. He passed several more soundproof offices. In one of them he spotted Tim talking to Nelly, but neither of them noticed him.
He walked all the way to the end of the division, to the double doors. He placed his palm on the scanner.
“ACCESS GRANTED. MR. FAIN IS EXPECTING YOU.”
The doors opened, and Cassien stepped into a spacious, elegant office that made his own look like a broom closet.
Beyond the large windows stretched a view of massive buildings. It was already dark, so the structures shimmered in golden lights while spotlights and neon signs danced between them.
Samuel sat behind a mahogany desk, and the blinking of his forehead implant made it clear he was on a call. He noticed Cassien and gestured for him to sit.
“Give me a moment. I’ll be right with you,” he whispered.
Cassien did as he was told and sat in one of the upholstered chairs across the desk. He noticed the folder he had sent was open on the table, and several holograms hovered above it from the HPM.
“I understand… Uh?huh… Right,” Samuel murmured, turned sideways, staring at the glowing city. “So eliminate her? There’s no other option?”
After a moment, the call ended, and Samuel turned toward Cassien with a stiff expression.
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve got a serious problem,” he said, tapping through the holograms. “We’ve discovered that our lead researcher has been leaking classified information to the media and the Hands of Willington.” He tapped again, and a photograph appeared in front of Cassien—the same woman whose portrait hung outside in the hallway—surrounded by lines of rapidly appearing data. “Rika Schimizu. Employee of the Year and a globally renowned visionary. Charmitage’s closest ally has betrayed him.”
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“What’s her motive? Who is she working with?”
“We know little about the details, but we do know she intends to reveal to the world that Charmitage implants may cause cancer.” He lit a v?cigarette, and Cassien noticed his hands trembling. He exhaled a cloud of blue vapor and slid the cigarette case toward Cassien. “Do you understand what that means? Right now the entire company is hanging by a thread, Cas. If this gets out, the international megacorporation will shake to its core, and heads will roll.”
Cassien knew exactly what he meant. He took a v?cigarette and inhaled. “How do you want to handle it?”
Samuel opened his mouth, but the phone on his desk rang. He picked it up and switched it to speaker.
“Sir, we’ve got her,” said a voice on the other end—probably one of Samuel’s techs. “She’s at the conference aboard the airship WL C12K 908.”
Several security?camera feeds appeared on the holograms. One showed a massive zeppelin gliding elegantly between illuminated buildings. Others displayed the enormous conference hall inside the vessel from various angles. The hall was packed with people, and Dr. Schimizu was just stepping onto the stage.
“They’re in West Princen on level 13. Currently flying over Prometheus Park.”
“Lock onto them,” Samuel ordered.
“Target locked,” the man on the other end announced.
Cassien stared at the feed showing Schimizu at the podium while the audience applauded.
Samuel watched the coordinates of the airship for a few seconds, then said, “Fire.”
On the exterior feed, an orange projectile emerged from somewhere off?screen and struck the hull of the zeppelin, which exploded instantly.
The conference hall shook, flames swallowed it, and the feed cut out.
Other camera angles showed chunks of metal raining down into the park as the burning vessel plummeted from the sky.
“Target neutralized.”
Samuel thanked the technician and ended the call.
But the moment he did, the phone rang again. Samuel switched it back to speaker.
“Have you completely lost your fucking minds?!” an aggressive voice exploded from the speaker. “What the hell is that apocalypse on level 13 supposed to be?!”
“Director Aldale,” Samuel greeted calmly. “I’m glad you’re taking an interest in our work. I’m carrying out your order—removing an employee who violated her contract and undermined us.”
“Do you people in Security Overwatch have any idea what you’ve just done?!” Aldale shouted. “That was an international gathering of global innovators and diplomats. I told you to discreetly eliminate Schimizu and stop her from announcing the cancer report, not roast dozens of foreign politicians alive!”
“I completely understand, Director, but there was no other option. My best man can confirm that,” he said, glancing at Cassien.
“Do you have any idea how much it will cost the company to clean up this mess?! The Hands of Willington have already called an emergency session. Mr. Charmitage is on the phone with the Council right now and heading there as we speak. If the governments of the Eurocontinent find out this was our doing, there will be war! Charmitage Cybernetics Incorporated cannot afford another war!”
“I fully understand your concerns. But please consider that a little thinning of the Eurocontinental government halls might actually help us. Fewer heads to restrict us, more seats to fill with our own people,” Samuel said, lighting another v?cigarette.
“There will be a hearing tomorrow,” Aldale said, calmer now. “You will be there, and you will answer to the board.”
“Understood,” Samuel replied.
The call ended.
“Idiot. Shame he wasn’t on that blimp too,” Samuel growled.
“What do you want me to do?” Cassien asked.
Samuel turned to him. “Tomorrow you’ll get a new assignment—this incident, and nothing else. You’ll work discreetly and fast, as always. This information cannot leak anywhere, not even to other departments in this building. The rest of our team will handle stabilizing relations between Charmitage Cybernetics and the political world.”
“Understood.”
“That’s all for today. You can go,” Samuel said, leaning back in his chair.
Cassien nodded and left the office.
Once the door closed behind him, he could no longer keep a neutral expression. His knees buckled and he leaned against the wall beside Samuel’s office. A wave of cold washed through his body, followed by a wave of heat. He tried to breathe deeply. He threw the half?smoked v?cigarette to the floor and pressed his palms to his face. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. His whole body felt trapped in a straitjacket that kept tightening.
He growled and kicked the wall.
“Excuse me…” a quiet voice said behind him.
Cassien spun around.
A coworker stood there, clutching some papers. “I—I got that meeting record from you,” he stammered. “I wanted to ask if—”
“I don’t give a fuck how you do it, just do it! Get out of my face!” Cassien snapped and brushed past him.
He walked back through the dark corridors. The ringing of phones from every desk and office was even more intense now.
On the wall near the couches and vending machines, a hologram displayed a live broadcast from Prometheus Park. Several people watched the burning wreckage of the airship with horror.
“What does this mean? Is there going to be a war? Another one?” they whispered.
“What actually happened there?”
“God… the Eurocontinent is going to tear us apart.”
Cassien shoved his hands into his pockets and quickened his pace, avoiding eye contact with anyone. His head was spinning.
Holograms on the walls streamed news, updates, and instructions for employees. The phone ringing stabbed at his ears. Intercom announcements warped in his mind.
He reached his office. His secretary started saying something, but he just waved her off and muttered that she could go home.
He put on his coat, grabbed his hat and briefcase, and headed toward the elevators. He needed a drink. Or a hit. Something.
He reached the elevator and pressed the call button.
“Hey! Cas!” a familiar voice called. Tim hurried toward him. “You wanna tell me what the hell is going on? I saw you coming out of Samuel’s office right after it happened.”
Cassien sighed and closed his eyes. “You’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Right now it’s too much.”
Tim’s face twisted in disbelief. “Hello? All the Hands of Willington are on high alert. I just called an emergency meeting with my team—we’ll be working all night to figure out how to fix this. The entire Eurocontinent is fucked.”
The elevator doors opened.
Cassien rubbed his face again. “I’ll explain tomorrow! Please.” He stepped inside.
“Fine, Cas, fine. But answer me one thing. Just one: Were you involved? Hey! Were you involved? That’s all I want to know.”
The doors closed.
He leaned against the wall. Only a few dazed coworkers were in the cabin, staring at holograms projected from their implants. He lowered his head.
He got off on a lower floor and exited the building through one of the small side doors. He wanted to grab a typecab and get home. He needed to be alone.
He waved down a passing vehicle and climbed into the spacious interior meant for multiple passengers. A digiwriter keyboard slid out from the dashboard. He typed in his address, the keyboard retracted, and the typecab started moving.
He smoked another v?cigarette and watched the massive, elegant buildings glittering in gold and bluish light. Then he leaned back and turned on the radio.
“WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST DUE TO AN EMERGENCY: WE HAVE JUST RECEIVED A REPORT OF THE CRASH OF AN AIRSHIP CARRYING THE INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE ON SCIENCE AND INNOVATION. THE EXACT NUMBER OF CASUALTIES HAS NOT YET BEEN DETERMINED, BUT AMONG THE PROMINENT POLITICIANS AND SCIENTISTS ON BOARD WAS THE JEWEL OF CHARMITAGE CYBERNETICS – RIKA SCHIMIZU. ACCORDING TO OUR INFORMATION, THIS BRILLIANT VISIONARY WAS PULLED FROM THE BURNING WRECKAGE OF THE AIRSHIP, BUT SHE REMAINS IN CRITICAL CONDITION.”
Typecab stopped at the border between the levels. Shouting echoed from outside. Cassien looked out the window. A man was clearly trying to cross the border without authorization, and two guards were beating him on the ground with the butts of their rifles while Madlene recited the laws and his rights to him in her cheerful, sing?song voice.
Cassien held his ID up to the guard through the window, and they let him pass.
“PROMETHEUS PARK IS IN FLAMES. THE CAUSE OF THE AIRSHIP’S FALL IS STILL UNKNOWN, BUT SOME SOURCES CLAIM IT MAY HAVE BEEN AN ATTACK BY A RIVAL COMPANY OR BY ENEMIES OF CHARMITAGE CYBERNETICS CEO MILES CHARMITAGE. WE WILL BRING YOU MORE DETAILS AS THEY DEVELOP. THIS IS HENRY HOOK, AND YOU ARE LISTENING TO RBW.”
When Cassien got home, he drank a glass of wine and then tried calling Octavia, but she didn’t pick up. Instead, he had several missed calls from Tim.
He switched off the holographic projection and stared out the window.
Directly across from his apartment was the rooftop of another building, and on it a huge neon sign glowed: YOU SEEM LONELY.
He sighed, crushed out his v?cigarette, and turned on the radio. Static crackled for a moment, then the news came on again. He changed the station, and slow blues music filled the apartment.
He opened a bottle of wine and decided that until tomorrow, he would forget everything happening around him.
