Issue 3: Wrath

“Cathy, get in here!”

Cathy recognizes her boss's voice - and she's mad. The woman gets up from her drafting desk, setting aside the plans for the next generation of portable computing and communications… calling these “cell phone” designs SO misses the mark for what they do… checks to make sure her blue blazer is buttoned, smoothes out her white blouse, and checks to make sure her knee-high matching blue skirt is in order before pulling her red hair back out of her green eyes and heading towards the bosses' office, her two inch black heels clicking in the linoleum.

“What can I do for you boss?” Cathy's all smiles as she walks into the furnished leather room of her boss, Vanessa Valentine.

Vanessa takes a breath through gritted teeth, and hands Cathy a disk, “Are these the same designs you sent to production?”

“Dinah, check this disk against version one point three schematics,” Cathy uses her current wake word to activate the version two prototype in her pocket.

The pocket unit manifests a holographic interface, which runs a light beam over the disk in question, and gives a holographic thumbs up, with a couple checksum reports.

“Yes, it matches,” Cathy confirms, “what's….”

“You're fired,” Vanessa interrupts, “The units all caught fire in the factory as soon as we attached the battery. Not only are we out the ten million in materials, and the five million on advertising, but another hundred million to cover the repairs to the factory and the surrounding homes.”

“But…” the designer begins.

Vanessa's having none of it, “This is a notification, not a negotiation. I had three different people look over the plans on this exact disk after the fire. One asked if it was a competency test, another reported a direct short between the battery terminals and let me know that actually trying to build this would be catastrophic, and the third had trouble speaking because he was laughing so hard at the designs. All three basically said the plans are a children's scribble disguised as circuit diagrams. You're fired. We will mail your personal items to the address on file tomorrow.” She presses one of the buttons on the intercom on her desk, “Hal, we're confirmed red on Ms. Cum-in.”

“...it's pronounced Cu-min, like the spice…” Cathy weakly protests as a security guard steps into the office.

“This way please, Ms. Cumin,” the tall side of beef in uniform with a taser pronounces her name correctly in his deep, rumbling voice reminiscent of a bulldozer, and bows slightly, pointing the way out the door.

Head hanging low and shoulders slumped, Cathy follows the man to the elevator, down to the lobby, out the front door, and to the edge of the parking lot, and out the front gate…at which point, the meat mountain sighs, “Well, you're officially off the property. I'm sorry to see you go, Cathy.”

“Yeah well…” Cathy pauses, “The Vampire sucks.”

“That she does,” the security guard agrees, “ten years and she still hasn't learned my proper name.”

“Sorry Henry,” Cathy chuckles, “I forget you still need to deal with her.”

“At least she's not a REAL vampire,” Henry chuckles, “I don't need to worry about being a pint low after work.”

“Speaking of a pint…” Cathy licks her lips, “Meet me at The Local Dive after work?”

The security guard cringes, “Tomorrow, maybe? I'm going to be on mandatory overtime handling… ah…” he pauses.

“My exit paperwork,” the now unemployed woman takes a breath, “right. And I shouldn't be spending money anyway.”

“Yeah…” the slab of beef nods, “...I don't expect she's going to be a decent reference.”

“Yeah, well… first job out of college…” Cathy takes a breath, “nobody expects that to be forever, right?”

“That's true,” he agrees.

“Umm… I don't mind the companionship, but you're on the clock, so why are you still…?” Cathy tilts her head.

“Company policy,” the man grins, “I don't have any authority once you've stepped foot off the property… but I'm supposed to keep you in sight and be very visible until such time as you're out of sight of the property, to make sure you don't return. And as you're no longer an employee, our ‘SMILE’ policy means I get to keep being all friendly-like, just like I prefer."

“Thank you for being a good person.” Cathy takes a breath, “Dinah, street clothes.”

The prototype unit in her pocket changes the solid holographic projection, trading out the business attire for a comfy sweatshirt, light jacket, jeans, and flats.

“Ms. Vampire didn't request the mark two prototype back, huh?” Henry chuckles.

“She did not,” Cathy confirms, "are you going to mention it to her?”

“Not my job,” the guard actually laughs, “...and I get a black mark on my performance review every time I go above and beyond. Enjoy.”

“Thanks Henry. I'll give you a call to catch up later. Take care…” Cathy smiles and starts walking away.

The guard does his job, watching as the woman walks to the bus stop, waits, boards the bus, and heads off.