Meddle 2.5

(previously)

Christian opens the envelope and pours its contents onto his mess of a desk. A ream of a contract makes a thud among the electronics. The logo on this novel’s cover reads Suntech Labs. He thumbs through the first few pages, stopping at the first highlighted section.

“Note: the agreed upon date for completion of module 14D is now… What? What the hell?”

He flips through a few more pages.

“As per initial contract, terms are subject to modification…”

He drops the page.

“Those assholes,” he informs the gadgetry. “Those ASSholes! Dagmilla! Dial Henry!”

“Dialing Henry,” his digital assistant coos followed by he sound of ringing.

The space in the wall above his desk comes to light. A video screen carrying Henry Chomber’s clean-shaven mug appears.

“Christian? Where the hell have you- oh.” Henry wasn’t expecting to see his boss in such a disheveled state. “Are you alright?” He asks his superior. “No one’s heard from you in days. Your mother called. You missed your father’s-”

“What the hell is this?” Redon interrupts. He’s holding up the modified contract. “Is this a joke?”

“I tried to call-”

“Are you fucking kidding me? They want the module NEXT fucking WEEK?”

“Hammel says they’re gearing up for the next show. They want it ready in time for-”

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Christian’s face burns red.

“Don’t demonize our clients-”

“Fuck that, Hank. This is Hammel getting back at me for quitting his team and starting my own firm. I know-”

“Chris, c’mon. He wouldn’t hire us just to-”

“He hired ME because I’m the best damn coder in this hemisphere.”

Hank stares at his boss, dumbfounded.

“You have a team, Chris. You should try using them for something other than updating applications.”

Christian’s face sets. Cold resolution fills his voice. “I will not have Hammel dick me around.” He points. “You call Patty. Tell her that this is bullshit. I still have three weeks until debugging. This zoom feature is the most advanced thing the VR world has seen.”

“I’ll call her, Chris, but-”

“Let me know when she fixes it,” Christian snaps. “Call end.”

The screen disappears, and Christian throws the contract across the room. The stack of paper his a wall with a satisfactory thud as he picks up his goggles once more.

(next)



Categories: Fiction, Meddle

Tags: , , , , ,

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