Age of Ruin

Richard Maseuchy was still seething about the comment his supervisor had made to him earlier in the day. Nobody else seems to be having these problems, Rich. He knew for a fact management was giving him low quality samples. They hated him, but they couldn’t say it to his face, so they played little childish games like this instead.

Rich looked at the readout on his terminal. Seven processed today, with only three failures. Better than yesterday’s six processed, and with how terrible the materials he had to work with were, each one should count for two or three. That put Rich way ahead of Ashton’s average of eleven, with no failures. Something must be going on behind the scenes for Ashton to be getting good samples from management.

He turned his attention to the clock. There wasn’t enough time to start processing another patient and sample, so he decided to take his time filling out his daily report and coast through the rest of the day. He’d earned a break, but his new maribo bosses didn’t seem to understand the concept of relaxation. He’d be disciplined again if he was caught slacking.

Rich had gained illicit access to his workplace’s security system months ago in the chaos when the maribo owners showed up and assumed direct control over upper management. The security camera in his office could only see the back of his head in one corner of its view when he was seated at his desk. He set the camera to broadcast a short loop of him entering data at the terminal. It wouldn’t fool anyone in the security office who took a close look at Rich’s feed, but nobody had caught him yet, so whatever.

The rest of Rich’s shift passed without issue, and he hurried out of the building and into a taxi waiting in the company’s parking lot. He was especially excited to talk to a new friend he’d met at the trendy night club downtown.

He’d arrived long before opening hours and ended up waiting outside. After he’d paid his cover charge and been let into the club, he found a booth far away from the dance floor, pressed his bulk between the fixed table and seat, and waited some more.

It was already late at night when Bryce slid into the seat across from Rich.

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” asked Bryce.

“No, not at all! I just got here myself,” Rich lied, trying not to sound desperate.

“Last time you were telling me about how things were going for you at work. Have things gotten any better for you?”

Rich was almost overwhelmed at the fact that someone was genuinely concerned for him. He tried to act casual while relaying the events of the day to Bryce. He’d been drinking alone for a few hours, so he probably wasn’t as suave as he would have liked, but Bryce didn’t seem to mind. He’d even asked questions about his job. Nobody had ever wanted to know any details about what Rich did for a living.

“I’m so sorry to hear they keep giving you bad materials to work with,” Bryce said, consoling Rich. “These samples you keep mentioning, what are they?”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you. Work keeps that stuff secret. You wouldn’t be interested anyway,” Rich said.

“You can’t just leave me hanging like that,” Bryce said. He leaned in and lowered his voice, “C’mon, tell me. I can keep a secret.”

Rich was giddy. Someone was actually listening to him and cared about what he had to say. He was tall, handsome, and well-dressed, too. He felt like he was finally getting the kind of attention he deserved.

“So, the samples are kind of like batteries. They’re about the size of a fist. But they’ve also got little machines in them. Like, really small machines, you can’t even see them without a microscope. They’ve got a bunch of rare materials in them, and if you hit the sample with a bit of electricity, that starts, like, a reaction, and it powers these little machines remotely. We implant these samples into old people. It’s supposed to harden their bones, restore their muscles, help them live longer and stuff. It kind of changes them and helps them stay useful to society.” As Rich explained, he realized he didn’t know as much about his job as he thought he did. It was probably just the booze getting to him.

Bryce was listening intently to Rich’s explanation. He seemed concerned, and Rich asked if everything was alright.

“Yeah, of course,” Bryce said, switching instantly to a beaming smile.

“Hey, so, this might seem a little awkward,” Rich said, working up his courage. “But do you want to maybe go somewhere after this?”

“Sorry, Rich, I can’t,” said Bryce, glancing at his wristwatch. “I’ve got some work to take care of in the morning. But I’ll definitely be looking forward to seeing you here again sometime,” he said with a wink as he exited the booth.

Rich was alone again, but elated. Not even having to go to work in just a few hours could ruin his mood. After spending the evening talking to Bryce, he determined that things were going to change at work. He would confront his supervisor and give him a piece of his mind.