Reaping

It's not often you're excited to go to work. It's not like it's a horrible job or anything, but it's not particularly great either. Most of the time you go in, refresh reddit and twitter for eight hours, then go home. During a particularly slow summer you started refurbishing an old Super Nintendo in your office, learning about soldering and isopropyl **** from youtube, and every morning on the bus your head was full of things you wanted to fix, and methods you wanted to try.

That was very similar to how you're feeling right now. Will it work? Who did you snag? The head of HR? One of the VPs? The CEO? Probably not the CEO, you assume she has people who press buttons for her.

You're feeling bold today, so you enter through the front. The security guard at the turnstile gives you a look as you swipe your card.

"Never seen you here before", she says. She's bigger than you, though that's not saying much. Not quite heavy, but with large arms and chest that fill out her uniform, and accentuate the narrowing of her waist above wide hips that makes it impossible to mistake her for one of the male guards.

"I've uh... I've actually worked here for years", you hold up your card defensively. "IT?"

She leans forward and squints at your lanyarded ID and makes a face. "Computers?"

"Yeah, uh... computer stuff and... things". Your boldness is wearing off in the face of this intimidating woman.

"Huh", she leans back. "You know, one of the surveillance monitors in the back is acting all fizzy. No one knows who to call for that. Come over around end of day and have a look at it and I'll believe you"

"That's uh... I'm not sure if they are...", you trail off under her stony-faced stare. "Yeah, I'll look at it and I'll... yeah, totally, definitely"

"Great. You have a nice day now sir", she looks away, dismissing you.

Your groove is a bit dampened, but it picks up as you approach the elevators. Excitement fills you again as you enter the car you visited last night and pick at the >< button. With a mental command, the QEBP changes back into its usual texture and you peel it off, sticking it in your pocket. Barely able to contain yourself, you rush to the basement elevators and make it to your office. It's still empty and private down here, and you've never appreciated that fact more than you do right now.

Settling into your chair, you take out the smaller QEBP from your pocket, and the larger one from your backpack. Holding them together, you will the smaller one to melt into the larger, and you're left holding the old QEBP. Now for the moment of truth.

You focus, and think "Roster". Making the connection is easier now, your brain seamlessly moving from normal to QEBP mode, the office around you fading into the background. A message is relayed.

"<347 new entanglements added>"

Oh. That's a lot. You feel some tiny vertigo at the prospect. 347... That's over half the people in this building! Though some of them are probably visitors, delivery people, service workers... Wow. Okay. Wow.

The message is over, and the roster appears. Again it shows you sitting in the chair. You assume it must sort by time added. You mentally move to the next one and it's Viv. She's curled up on an expensive looking leather couch wearing black silk pyjamas. She's got a tablet in her lap and a large cup of something in her hands. You feel a pang of guilt. You'd completely forgotten about her, and that you were going to check in to make sure she was alright. She looks... fine, though. No make-up, hair still a mess, slightly bloodshot eyes, but she doesn't look scared or hurt. If anything, she seems a bit... giddy? She's intently reading something on the tablet, gently running her upper lip over her lower, and breathing steadily but heavy through her nose.

You angle your perspective to get a better look at the screen. It's an article. The floating headline reads "I MARRIED a Ghost!". A picture shows a beaming young lady in a beautiful grassy field with her arms around thin air.

Not sure how to feel about this. You decide to get back to Viv later. She's doing alright.

Moving on, you get a collage of various men and women around the office. Talking, meeting, tapping away at their keyboards. Most of them look bored out of their skulls. After a few, you come across someone interesting. A woman, early 20s, in a professional but simple, form-hugging black dress. Her red hair is done up in a bun on top of her head, and she's sporting thick-rimmed black glasses. She's clutching a large stack of papers to her modest chest, and is very clearly checking out the ass of the woman in front of her.