Damon rapped his fingers on the desk as Luke stood in front of him. Since Damon started in this department, he heard things about Luke. Luke was a recent visitor to room 102. Damon didn’t know what room 102 was, and whenever he thought about asking Reynard about it, it slipped from his mind.
Damon was looking at the schematics of a special deck of tarot cards. Each card, if it was worn around the neck in a special box, would give certain super powers to a person for the duration of an hour, per month. So, for example, if someone wore The Chariot, they would be able to teleport for one hour. But they could only use it for that one particular day. They had to wait 28 days before they could use the next card.
Luke had developed this idea, both the cards and the box that went around the person’s neck. “Well?” Luke asked. “What do you think?”
Damon refrained himself from touching his ankh that rested against his chest. If something like this went out into the world, then anybody could have magic. But that’s what Rey wanted, magic for the people.
“It’s a good idea,” said Damon.
“So you’ll present it to him?”
Damon shrugged. “Sure.”
Damon requested a meeting with Rey, who accepted. The next day he went up to Rey’s office.
“What’s going on?” asked Reynard, as he leaned against the desk. Damon had the flash drive in his hand, and clenched it to remind him what he was here for. He forced himself to look up at Reynard’s eyes, not down at his crotch.
“One of my people came to me with an idea,” he said, and thrust his hand out.
Reynard smiled and took the flash drive. “First rule of corporate America, Damon: Don’t give credit to subordinates.”
Damon looked confused as Reynard held the drive between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting,” he said. “I know who did this.” He sighed. “I’m going to have to do something about him.”
“Why?” asked Damon.
“He’s not hired to think.”
“Can’t you promote him?”
Reynard tossed the flash drive onto the desk. “I suppose I could, but then, where would that leave you?”
“Oh,” said Damon quietly.
“He’s going to have to report downstairs. He’ll get an email. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“Something that happens to us all,” said Reynard, turning back to his desk. “Is that all you needed me for?”
“Uh…yeah.”
Reynard smiled and sat down. “Then I will see you again on Friday.”
Damon left the room, confused. What was going to happen to Luke? Was he going to be in trouble? What was “downstairs”?
He went toward his office, and decided to swing around to Luke’s cubicle. He saw Luke heading toward the elevator. “Hey, Luke?” Damon called.
Luke turned around. “Oh, hi…I got an urgent email to report downstairs.”
“Let me come with you.”
“Did you talk to him?” asked Luke, as they got into the elevator.
“He, um, said it was, uh, a good idea.”
“But?”
“But what?”
“You’re hesitating. But?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“He must have found something wrong with it.”
Damon looked down. “He honestly didn’t even look at it.” How did Reynard know who did it, just by holding the flash drive? Could he read the flash drive without a computer?
“Oh,” said Luke. The doors opened to a long corridor. “Here’s my stop.”
Damon got off the elevator with Luke. “I want to make sure you’re not going to get fired.”
“Fired? Why would I get fired?”
He’s not hired to think. “Um, I don’t know.”
“Usually they just interview me, ask me about how my job’s going. They ask about my boss.” Luke smiled. “I’ll say you’re good.”
He started walking down the hallway. Damon started, then stopped. His chest burned – the ankh around his neck was hot. He put his hand on his chest and clutched the amulet. “Okay, um…”
Luke waved. “It’s cool.”
Damon went back to the elevator and it closed behind him. As soon as it did, the amulet cooled immediately. He looked back at the elevator doors, and the elevator went up on its own accord, stopping on his floor. The doors opened with a ping.
Two people stood there, watching him. Damon stepped out of the elevator, as if in a dream, and the two mages got on.
He watched the doors close. He turned and looked back at the cubicle farm. He didn’t know anyone well enough to ask if they would explain downstairs.
He’s not hired to think.