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The Boss
by Tyde

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There is a stench in the air. Haven’t quite decided what it is yet. It’s tingling my nostrils; it’s working its way down the back of my throat. Now I can taste it…but I still don’t know. No one else in the room seems to notice it. They have their heads bent over their computer terminals, typing away and answering phones. They’re on automatic pilot when it comes to this stuff. Type this, say that, not much variety. I continue on..pretending I’m busy. I don’t really have anything to do..sure a few odds and ends but if I do that then there will be nothing, absolutely nothing. I’ll be sitting here twiddling my thumbs until something rescues me from this boredom. One of the telephonists next to me sneezes, it’s quite loud and echoes through the office, it’s just one of those moments when everything is silent except for his explosion. He’s embarrassed and he looks down at his keyboard not wanting to catch anyone’s eye. The light clattering of keyboards resumes and the smell gets a little stronger. It’s swirling around in my brain now..desperately trying to find a cell that can recognise it. A pencil rolls off my desk, the girl sitting next to me scoops it up in a flash and almost throws it at me. Her eyes are wild and she indicates that I should get back to work. What work? I just nod politely and try to look busy. She relaxes a little, but it’s not much.

I know what that smell is now, it’s fear.

The double doors at the end of the room bust open and in walks The Boss. I actually think that might be his name. Got it changed legally and everything. He walks to the first row of cubicles and his six assistants scurry behind him. He points at Jim, Merena and Zao. They pick up their box of belongings..they’d never bothered to unpack when they arrived a week ago. He skips over the second row and several of them faint from relief. His assistants follow close behind sending glares at those who dare to watch the spectacle and aren’t working.

The smell is intoxicating now, I’m swimming in it.

He reaches my row, the seventh, and proceeds to point at the girl next to me and the man who sneezed. The girl starts to cry and one of the assistants drag her from the room. It’s a rule, no crying within the office walls. You can imagine how many times that has been broken and how many have suffered for it. His eyes flick over me and I lock eyes with him. He nods at me and continues on. I’ve been here five years but none of the others know that. There is no time for chit chat here, lunch breaks are taken in individual padded rooms, we are beamed directly home. None of them know their rights; they are too scared to ask. It amazes me how they keep coming here though. Surely word gets out about how things are here. Maybe that is why they come. Cocky when they walk in the door, determined to break the trend. By the time they reach their desk they are meek, mild and mute. Exactly the way he programs them. He likes to see them broken down and useless. Then they are mindless zombies to do his work, they don’t have to try, they just do. They don’t ask for raises or holidays. They don’t question his authority. But this bores him. He constantly wants new faces, new challenges. Most fold like a cheap deck of cards.

The smell starts to dissipate. He’s left the room.

I don’t fold. I’m the ultimate challenge. I’ve been here five years but he hasn’t broken me yet. He doesn’t understand why I’ve managed to survive. He thought his programming couldn’t be thwarted. Subliminal messages filtered into the padded rooms and chemicals in the coffee. He’s tried it all, but to no avail. I think it’s funny. What he doesn’t realise is I’m a better programmer. From the beginning, I always have been. I came into this job cocky, like they all do, I haven’t changed. His messages haven’t got through, his chemicals don’t work on me. He sees me but he can’t read me because I program him. I taint his coffee, I brainwash him as he sleeps. He’s under my control and he can’t get me. I make more money than he does, thousands more, but he doesn’t know. I rise from my seat. The smell of their fear washes over me in waves, surrounding me. They are all so defenceless.

I love it.

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THE END

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