Adam, office wage

Adam stumbled out of bed and headed for the kitchen. He was young, mid twenties, healthy, like every was these days, but not especially fit, and decently attractive. He has a tangled mop of mousy brown hair. He used to need glasses, before the Nanites had fixed his vision. He yawned, putting on the coffee before making his way back to the bathroom for his morning shit, shave and shower.

His apartment was so small it was practically a closet. One bedroom, one bathroom and a kitchen area that tripled as a dining room and a living room. The bathroom was so small that he needed to get in the shower to close the door, and the door swung in at such an angle that he needed to close it to use the toilet. His bedroom wasn’t any better, but at least the door opened out. It was still entirely filled by the oversized Queen bed that took nearly the entire room.

Adam finished his morning rituals and headed to work.

Work was, well, work. It was a big Silicon Valley tech firm that specialized in programming. The pay was good… if you owned the place. He tried to get them to let him work from home but it had been shot down. “You’ll miss out on our wonderful office culture!” And “We’re a family here, don’t you want to spend more time with your family?” Were pretty typical responses from the higher ups any time the issue was raised.

Adam headed to the break room for some more coffee. Dave and Kat sat at the lunch table. He chatted amiably for a bit, then hunkered down and began his day. It was a long day, hours spent looking for answers in complex technical jargon that was seemingly designed to be as brain numbing as possible, sorting and cataloging as he went. He grabbed another box.

Unlike the others this box was covered in a thick layer of dust. When he opened it a fine cloud of particulate filled his cube, sending him into a coughing fit. When he settled down he reached into the box, pulling out a stack of note paper. He flipped through it for a bit, finding no reference to any ongoing projects. It looked mostly useless just long strings of numbers, hand written, along with huge sections that had been blacked out. A hastily scribbled note caught his attention, written in bright red ink it was impossible to miss. He read it out loud, under his breath. “Command access alpha-4589-fuckyouTina” he chuckled at the last bit. It was petty, but at least it was amusing. “Command access recognized. Uploading command host data. Stand by.” He looked around. “Who said that?” His vision began to fill with numbers, letters and symbols. He stood quickly and was **** back down by the wave of nausea and a sudden splitting headache.