The ReBible Series: "Professional Integrity" Excerpt--The President's Dream

 

Previous Excerpt: Kill Order

 

It took a moment for Daniel's eyes to adjust. A massive fire roared in the large hearth, so distended with propellant and chemical and mineral incense that it burned in a rainbow of many colors and gave off a bewildering mixture of scents. He could make out a massive desk strewn with packets and powders and still-smoking fumedants, but there was no sign of President King. A high-backed leather chair faced the back wall. Daniel waited a moment, but the pressure in his lungs grew too much, and he reluctantly drew a breath. A cloud of smoke billowed from the chair, and it slowly turned to face him.

President Chadwick Octavian Reginald King squinted from behind drooping eyelids. His puffy lips lay slack around a burning “fumer,” which glowed brightly as the substance inside slowly burned away. The light from the fire reflected off the shiny trail of mucous left under his nose. His hair hung in limp, greasy locks from his head. His hands shook from the number of drugs coursing through his bloodstream. 

The cigarette dropped from his mouth, and he stared at the figure before him. In a low, rasping voice, he spoke.

“I haven’t slept for three nights, did you know that?” He stopped with a chuckle that ended up more like a choking, rheumy cough. “Three nights, and the same cursed dream. I'm even starting to have visions of it when I am awake.” He flopped back in his chair with all the muscular control of a rag doll, and drew a long breath. “So unless you can say what no one else has--”

 

“Mr. King,” Daniel cut in, fighting to keep his presence of mind in the heady cloud of scents. “No technician, or dream specialist, or mystic, or psychiatrist can both tell you what you dreamed, and tell you its meaning.” The eerie eyes watched him quietly as Daniel continued, his voice getting stronger with each phrase. “But I am here to say that there is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries so profound the human mind cannot even begin to conceive of them, much less a machine invented by human minds. It is this same God who has revealed to you, by your dream, a glimpse into the future of this company and the companies to come after it.” The mere mention of God in that dark, foul-smelling place seemed to invite a gust of fresh wind from some unseen quarter. Daniel felt much better as he drew another breath to launch into his presentation.

“Mr. King, I will now tell you the dream that has robbed you of your sleep for these last three nights.

As you lay in your bed, you were thinking about the future of Byblos Corporation, and--since we are at the height of our efficiency and the balance of profit--what the company might pursue in the coming years. Not even the most comprehensive prediction machine or any of those who claim to consort with the spirit world could ever tell you what would happen should Byblos ever fail--but I stand before you, able to do just that, not because of any superpower or any other kind of power I have beyond the limits of average human logic, but in order that you may know what it means, and to ease the confusion of your mind so that you can have the rest that has been denied you since the first time you dreamed.” Daniel took another breath and forged ahead.

"As you stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a huge valley, a terrible statue appeared, stretching from the valley floor, high over your head into the sky. At first, it seemed to be a statue in the shape of a giant man, but the longer you looked, the more it seemed to shift and change. The head, made of gold, was at first a man, and then a lion, roaring with all its strength. The arms and chest, made of silver, transformed from human form to the arms and claws of a bear."

It may have been his eyes adjusting to the darkness even more, but as Daniel watched, he could distinguish more of President King's eyes; they had lost their glassy haze, and he was watching this new recruit sharply. He continued.

"Further down, the statue had the flanks and haunches of a leopard, and the iron hooves of a goat."

The leather chair squeaked as Chad King flopped back. "Yes!" He gasped. "Yes, that's it exactly! How did you do that?"

Daniel raised a finger. "But that's not all you dreamed."

Chad nodded vigorously, pushing back the lank hair from his face. "Yes, go on."

"As you were admiring the statue and marveling at the detail, you became aware of a large stone rolling from out of nowhere, and not removed by any machine or man-generated efforts; it was something—Someone—else that cut the stone. That stone collided with the enormous statue, and instantly, the whole structure disintegrated into fine powder."

Chad was still nodding as if his head would fall right off his neck. "Yes, it just—" he gestured the explosion with his hands.

"And once the powder scattered to the four winds, all that was left was the huge stone, and as you watched, it grew and expanded till it became one mountain that took over the whole surface of the Earth."

 

Chad sniffed noisily and wiped the sleeve of his plush robe across his face. His eyes were so wide, Daniel almost wondered if he was physically capable of blinking anymore. He stared, mouth gaping, until his eyes rolled in his head and he slumped back in his chair. Daniel waited a moment, a bit puzzled by the response. Had he passed out? A grin unfolded over the emaciated president's face, and he opened his eyes.

"It's gone!" He wheezed. "Holy Dagon, it's gone! Once you said exactly what the dream was, it disappeared out of my head!" He clapped his hands over his scalp with a huge sigh of relief. "Well?" He gestured impatiently at Daniel. "Go on, Benedict Shafer! Tell me what it means!"

 

Daniel took a deep breath. The words came easier now. "You are the lion, President King, and God has seen fit to cause your administration of Byblos to make it the most successful company in the world—but there will come a time when the reign of Byblos will end. Your headquarters will be absorbed by a smaller company from Nevada, and this one will be taken over by a company represented by the bronze leopard, from Arizona. Last of all, the iron goat hooves represents a company based in Utah that will completely overtake the three that came before it."

 

Chad's face had wilted over the course of this interpretation; the frown that had begun at the mention of the fall of Byblos only deepened when he listened to all the companies that would continue to absorb one another. "And what does the giant magic stone represent?" He demanded in a dangerous tone. He stubbed out the cigarette, but his elbow jogged a mound of powder dispensers, sending a reeking cloud into the air.

 

Daniel coughed and prayed that the substances wouldn't affect his system, but he finished his interpretation anyway. 

"The stone is the ultimate community that will overtake all corporations around the world, will encompass all workforces of every nation, and it will change the face of employment forever, and there will be no more corporations. This, Mr. King, is the vision of the future that God has allowed you to see, and you can be absolutely certain that it will come to pass, in one way or another.”

As he finished speaking, Daniel noticed that the air, while still stiflingly hot, was not as heavy with the dizzying fumes; the flames had receded to gentle embers, and these were not the blazing, unnatural colors, but a gentle orange-golden glow. A digital tone signaled in the darkness, and the holoplast covers over the windows faded into transparency, allowing natural light to pour into the room. 

 

Chad King sat with his eyes glued on the simple young man standing before him. Three days of every kind of dream recollection procedure known to man--and this young intern’s God had imparted every detail of the dream so vividly, that it felt like perhaps Daniel had experienced the same dream. Then, too, was the affirmation that the dream he saw did represent the future--how many fortune tellers could truly claim that? He knew their penchant for broad, general statements and vague predictions that pretended to foretell whatever eventually came to pass--but he, Chad King, had actually seen what was going to happen. True, it did say that Byblos would eventually fall… but that wouldn’t be in his lifetime, would it? Chad laid all this aside as he felt an incredible weight lifted off his shoulders. As he watched the sunlight drive away the shadows, it seemed as if he could really breathe again, after holding his breath for three days.

He stood up from his chair, feeling the soreness in his knees…. how long had he been sitting there? He blinked in disgust at the amount of drugs littering his desk, making him look like a junkie and not the president of the “most successful company in the world.” He came around the desk and took Daniel’s hand. He seemed to recall viewing that face several times in a personnel report somewhere… but he pushed that out of his mind for now. Daniel led him out of the office, and with every step, Chad felt a new strength enter his limbs. He saw the sunlight streaming, saw the fresh flowers, heard the soft twittering of the birds in his private aviary--

And in that moment, there were tears in his eyes.

Daniel wasn’t quite sure how to respond as President King suddenly threw his arms around him and sobbed on his shoulder like an addict coming very quickly off an especially powerful high--which, judging by the number of fumedants he had in his possession, was probably very true. Chad’s knees buckled, and he slid to a crumpled, kneeling position, still clinging to Daniel’s hands like a drowning victim.

“Thank you,” he sobbed brokenly, “thank you… Thank you, my savior!”

This was not at all the outcome Daniel had been expecting. “I’m not--”

“Yes, you are!” Chad jumped to his feet as some of the old, dynamic, charismatic leader returned to him. “You have saved me, and you have saved all of Byblos--this God of yours must be something amazing, if He can give you someone else’s dream and tell you the meaning like that! You have no idea how much I have wanted someone to be there for me, and do that. You have got to tell me all about Him!”

Daniel nodded, but Chad didn’t stop. “Here, come with me!” He brought Daniel over to a kiosk at the end of the hall. Placing his hand on the biometric scanner, he spoke into the microphone, “Chad King!”

The kiosk blinked and showed the symbol of an open lock. “ADMINISTRATIVE PRIVILEGES ACTIVATED,” said the kiosk. Chad grinned widely as he beckoned to Daniel, “Here, now you put your hand there,” he pointed to the glass surface.”

Reluctantly, Daniel complied. A bright laser scanned his hand, and the kiosk instructed, “PLEASE STATE ADMINISTRATOR’S NAME.” Daniel opened his mouth to announce the President’s name, but Chad whispered, “Now say your Byblos name!” 

Thoroughly befuddled, Daniel announced, “Benedict Shafer.”

The kiosk blinked again, and showed two open locks. “VOICE KEY ACCEPTED; ADMINISTRATIVE PRIVILEGES ACTIVATED FOR BENEDICT SHAFER.” Daniel drew back his hand as if the scanner had delivered an electric shock. He looked at President King. “Sir--”

Chad shook his head. “Oh no, Benny-boy! We’re both administrators now; I’ve just made you Executive Director of Human Resources, and given you a chair on the Board of Directors. You must call me Chad, and you now have administrative authority in every department in the company having anything to do with personnel and employees. No more seeking out superiors and asking permission or finding your protocols changed and privileges revoked. Now you can make your own rules! You are the superior! We’re practically equals, you and I.” Chad clapped him on the back.

 

Daniel felt his skin grow cold, and his head became suddenly devoid of all rational thought. “I… I don’t know what to say!” He spluttered.

“It’s the least I can do, after what you’ve done for me!” Chad said to him as they arrived at the front door. “Go ahead and enjoy your new privileges, Ben. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to do!” Chad began to walk away, but Daniel didn’t leave immediately. 

“Sir--I mean… Chad?” he called after him. 

Chad turned immediately. “Yes?”

Daniel tried in vain to swallow the awkwardness as he formed his request, “I would like… I mean, if I wanted to… promote some of my friends, can I do that?”

Chad smiled magnanimously and winked. “As long as I am president of this corporation, you can do anything you want, Benedict.”

Aaron was the first to awaken at nearly four in the afternoon. His glass tablet blinked with a new message. He opened it, and saw that the same message had been sent to Harry and Mike as well. 

“PLEASE REPORT TO THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE IMMEDIATELY UPON RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE,” it said. “YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO DINNER AT THE ADMINISTRATIVE LOUNGE.”

Harry and Mike awoke to the frantic sounds of Aaron fumbling around the room trying to find his best clothes. “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!”

Harry rubbed his eyes. “Whuzzat?” he slurred drowsily. A heavy sleep like the one he’d just had was difficult to emerge from.

“Check your tab!” Aaron called from the bathroom.

Both friends did so.

“Executive offices?” Harry blurted.

“Dinner at the Administrative lounge?” Mike repeated incredulously.

By then, Aaron was already dressed. “Get moving!” he told his friends.

By four-thirty, three very nervous, but neatly-dressed young men stood awkwardly in the foyer of the spacious lounge. The hostess emerged from the main dining area and beamed at them. “Shafer, party of four?” she asked.

The three friends looked at each other. The only Shafer they knew was Daniel’s Byblos name. Aaron glanced back at the hostess. “Yeah, we know Bene--” 

“Follow me, please,” she said, leading them back down an exclusive hallway. She opened the door. “Your party is here, sir,” she announced to the person inside.

“Excellent!” Daniel’s voice gave them all a sense of relief. Harry, Mike, and Aaron wandered into the room.

In this private dining space, there was only one table, and only four chairs. One was occupied by their friend Daniel Princeton. He was neatly dressed in the fanciest charcoal-grey suit the boys had ever seen. 

“What is going on?” Mike demanded suspiciously. 

“Where did you sneak off to while we were sleeping?” Aaron wanted to know.

“And exactly how long were we asleep?” Harry looked around the opulent room in confusion.

Daniel grinned and gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat and let’s eat, boys. Order anything you like. We have a lot to discuss now that I’m the Human Resources Director for all of Byblos.”

All three dropped as one man.

“You’re what?” Aaron squeaked. “How?”

Daniel demonstrated for his friends how to activate the digital menu embedded in the table. “Order up and I’ll tell you. There'll be promotions for everybody today.”

>>>>>>>

 

More Excerpts from "Professional Integrity:

Prologue: Escape from Byblos
Corporate Takeover
Leaving St. Louis
Arrival
Orientation

 

To read more excerpts from the rest of the ReBible series, Click >HERE< 

The ReBible Series: "Professional Integrity" Excerpt--Kill Order (Pt. 3)

Previous Excerpts:

Kill Order (Pt. 1) 

Kill Order (Pt. 2) 

 

Daniel and the others made their way out of the room. The corridors were silent save for the low buzz of the survivors thanking whatever powers they believed in for their continued existence. There weren’t many bodies still about--and the ARICs had switched primary directives, to cleaning up the mess they had made.

They weren’t too far down the hall when they spotted the ARIC carrying Carissa’s body. Before Daniel could react, Aaron trotted over and--without disrupting the robot’s movements--slipped something out of Carissa’s pocket. 

Daniel frowned at him when he rejoined the group. “What did you take?” he asked.

Aaron shrugged. “Weren’t you wondering how the robots still found us, even after Carissa told us that room would be safe?” he asked. “And why the robots targeted her first? And why she wouldn’t just come out and tell us what department she worked for?” He showed his friends the object in his hand.

It was Carissa’s ID card, the one she’d used to seal the door, the one that held her identifying information and personnel file. Under “DEPARTMENT” it clearly displayed the word “MYSTIC”; her specific division was “DREAM CTR.”

“Well, no wonder she was so scared of the ARICs! And how she knew the inside scoop behind the death threats!” Mike exploded. “She could have been one of the ones responsible!”

“And now she’s paid the ultimate price,” Daniel cut in before his friends could continue venting against the young woman. “Let’s not get carried away in blaming her.”

Harry tilted an eyebrow as they entered their room at the back of the Employee Residence section. “And let’s not suffer the same fate,” he muttered.

Daniel closed the door behind them. “We’re not going to die,” he assured his friends. “We’re going to solve the mystery of the President’s dream.”

Aaron flopped on the bed. All of them felt the slow, heavy drag of adrenaline withdrawals and the lack of sleep. “What makes you so sure?” he grumbled.

Daniel waited till his friend sat up again before tossing the soft-cover Bible at him. “There’s why,” he said. “We don’t have to be afraid because we know The One Who sends dreams, and we know that He will make it known to us if we ask Him.”

Mike rubbed behind his ear as the four of them gathered in a circle on the floor. “Isn’t that presuming a lot from God, though? I mean,” he shrugged, “why would He just tell us the answer? What’s so special about us?”

Daniel shook his head. “You’re asking the wrong question, my friend. If there’s one thing I believe with absolute certainty, it is that God wants to bring Himself glory through those who believe in Him. It’s not about us being special; that’s not why He’ll answer. I believe He’s going to answer because this is an opportunity He’s given us to bring Him glory in a place that has totally rejected Him.” He nudged Aaron sitting next to him. “Don’t you think that might be a reason we, of all people, are still here?”

Aaron shrugged. “Maybe,” he sighed.

Daniel accepted this with a nod. “Let’s pray,” he said.

All four bowed their heads and Daniel began to pray. “Dear God,” he said, “You are the God of dreams. You have given a dream to President King and it has brought about an extreme response. We pray that the dream and its interpretation may be revealed to us now, that we may relieve the terror of Mr. King’s heart, and that You may be glorified…” Daniel let his words trail off. In the silence, he could hear the steady hum of the air conditioning unit Harry had refurbished to cool their apartment in the warm California summer. As he waited, the hum faded into total silence. Daniel felt the floor tilt underneath him as his center of balance slid sideways, and he could hear his friends’ voices calling his name, but when he opened his eyes to answer, he saw only darkness.

Aaron felt Daniel slump beside him, but his friend was usually a bit limp during moments of extreme, silent prayer, so he thought nothing of it till he heard Mike call out, “Dan!” just before the thud of Daniel’s body hitting the floor jerked everybody out of silent introspection. The three friends gathered around the prostrate body, chafing his hands and checking his pulse.

“He’s out of it,” Harry murmured, pulling up an eyelid and checking the pupils.

“Daniel? Can you hear me, Dan?” Aaron felt along the jugular vein. “He has a pulse.” He put his hand over his friend’s lips. “And I can still feel him breathing.”

“What happened?” Mike asked him. “One second he was praying, and the next, I look up and he’s totally passed out. Did he, like squeeze your hand or say anything to you before it happened?”

Aaron shook his head. “Man, I was sitting right next to him, and I had no warning. You know how floppy Dan gets when he prays!”

“Here, let’s get him up on the bed,” Mike suggested.

Together, the three friends hefted their companion onto Aaron’s bed. Harry kept calling his name.

“Daniel! Daniel! Wake up!”

“This is bad,” Aaron muttered. “His skin is really cold. What do we do if he doesn’t wake up?”

“Here,” Harry began tossing blankets from the other bed. “Try wrapping him with these.”

“Come on, Dan,” Mike said loudly, “Snap out of it!” He clapped his hands over Daniel’s face. His friend didn’t respond.

For three hours, the friends kept constant vigil, trying every remedy they could think of: strong smells, loud noises, everything short of administering medical injections, which they did not have access to. Daniel’s skin had gone pale, and his lips were deepening to a bluish-purple tint. Aaron still had his fingers over his wrist, under the blankets. “Guys,” he said quietly. “I can’t feel a pulse.”

The minute the words left his mouth, a rush of color spread over the prostrate body, and Daniel’s eyes popped open and he gave a heaving gasp.

“Daniel!” chorused three relieved voices all at once.

Daniel Princeton sat up and threw the blanket off, eyes roving in bewilderment. “What in the world--” he stopped when he saw the three anxious faces hovering around him. “What’s the matter?” he looked down. His clothes were a little rumpled, but he wasn’t wounded or deformed or anything.

“We thought you were dead!” Mike blurted.

“You passed out while we were praying, and you started going all cold and pale!” Aaron added. “I just lost your pulse right before you came to just now. What happened?”

Daniel smiled and accepted the glass of water offered by Harry. “Guys,” he said, “God answered my prayer. I saw what President King dreamed last night, and I know what it means.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Aaron jumped to his feet. “Let’s go tell him!” He went to the door and pressed the “exit” frequency--and smacked his head on solid holoplast. “Hey!” Aaron rubbed his face and frowned, punching the button again. “What’s the big idea?”

Mike activated his glass tablet and checked the notifications. “Looks like, as a repercussion for the rampage earlier, corporate instituted a building-wide forced lockdown. Apparently, it is scheduled to last,” he turned and looked at Daniel, “for about 24 hours.”

Daniel nodded. “That sounds about right,” he said. “I was going to suggest that we hold off for a while before going straight to Mr. King; I mean, it’s only been about,” he glanced at the clock, “four hours or so since we made the bargain.”

“You mean,” Aaron flopped on his empty bed, “we have to stay cooped up in here for another twenty hours? Are we going to starve?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “A twenty-four-hour fast never hurt anybody,” he chided his friend.

Aaron jumped to his feet and started pacing. “Look out,” he warned melodramatically, “I’m feeling the cabin fever setting in already! I’m going stir-crazy just thinking about it!”

A pillow sailed through the air, catching him in the face. “Well,” Harry muttered from his bed, “go crazy quietly, because if we aren’t expected to be anywhere, then I’m going to use at least some of this time to catch up on my sleep!”

Aaron collapsed into the armchair and pretended to suffocate himself with the pillow. “Oof!” he cried, dropping the pillow onto his lap. “I shouldn’t have mentioned eating; now I can’t stop thinking about food.”

“Shut up!” Harry barked.

Daniel remained sitting up as Mike took the last available bed. “What are you going to do?” Mike asked.

Daniel shrugged. “I feel like I’ve been sleeping for an entire day,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I don’t need the extra sleep like you all do.” He smiled at the concern on his friend’s face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Mike nodded and rolled over. Soon he was snoring peacefully.

Daniel spent the better part of an hour saying a prayer of thanks to God; his heart overflowed with gratefulness that he should get the opportunity afforded to nobody else. After he finished praying, he activated a simple text entry box on his tablet and began writing out the images from the dream, in preparation to present them before President King. He made sure to get all the details recorded, and paid especial attention to the interpretation. He sat and considered the significance for a few minutes. Dark times were coming for Byblos, Inc.--so what did that mean for him and his friends?

The clock on the wall read one in the afternoon when Daniel--amid the snores of his slumbering friends, slipped out toward the door. Activating the videoconferencing screen, he put in a call to the building security. As he expected, an ARIC had been posted in place of a live guard, and it responded. Text scrolled across the screen.

“STATE YOUR NAME AND REQUEST.”

Daniel made sure that the camera could register his face clearly. “Daniel Princeton, requesting an audience with President King.”

“WHAT IS THE NATURE OF YOUR AUDIENCE?”

Daniel smiled grimly. “Tell President King that I have the answers he seeks.”

“PLEASE STAND BY.”

Five minutes later, the holoplast door hummed softly, and Daniel slipped out. Two ARICs awaited him in the hall. “YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED AN AUDIENCE WITH PRESIDENT KING,” one of them intoned. “PLEASE DEPART IMMEDIATELY. WE WILL ESCORT YOU INTO HIS PRESENCE.”

Daniel nodded and complied with the directions.

The ARICs led him out of the Executive Trainee Residential Block. The bright sunlit afternoon belied the quiet, “ghost town” atmosphere in all the buildings and on the empty streets. Across the main courtyard stood the grand mansion where President King and his closest executive officials lived. The ARICs continued straight inside the grand house, the whirring of their mechanics echoing through the empty halls as their metal feet clanked on the marble floors. They stopped when they reached the massive double-doors that led to President King’s office.

“PLEASE PROCEED,” said an ARIC as the two robots took up their posts on either side of the door. The other ARIC emitted a digital signal, which caused the handles on the doors to turn, and the door hissed open on hydraulic pistons.

NaNoWriMo 1K-A-Day: Day 28

Professional Integrity (Daniel)

“Quick, in here!” Carissa pushed open a door and waved them all in, letting it close and electronically barring the door after them. They seemed to be in a conference hall of some sort. The whole area was empty, silent, and dark after the bright chaos of the main halls. Daniel could still hear the screaming.

“We can wait in here till the rampage is over,” Carissa announced.

Aaron was still scoping out the numerous exits--that could also be points of entry to anyone or anything outside the room.

“What makes you so sure the robots won’t find us in here?” he asked dubiously.

“They’re probably programmed to scan for signs of life, right? And their processors can probably access security feeds, which is how they’re hunting down all the others.”

Harry scanned the corners of the room. No telltale flashing lights winked back to tell him there was any kind of surveillance system at all. Realization dawned as he looked back to the grin on Carissa’s face.

“And,” she added, “these doors are impervious to their thermal sensors. There is no way they can find us.”

Daniel allowed himself to relax a little. He turned to thank Carissa for her assistance--when something cracked on the far side of the room. Daniel turned to look in the same instant that Mike yelled, “Duck and cover!”

More bullets ripped through the room, and a whole contingent of the weaponized killer robots blasted through the doors.

Daniel quickly knocked over the chair nearest him and took refuge from the bullets under the table. “Carissa!” He called over his shoulder--but Carissa wasn’t in any capacity to follow him. He saw that the first bullet that had entered the room had struck her right between the eyes. A red stain unfolded from her face and dripped down her neck onto her clothes. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and curled up into a ball, tucking his knees against his forehead.

“PLEASE STAND BY,” intoned the digital announcement from the robot as it flipped over the table and exposed Daniel hiding underneath. “YOUR DEMISE IS IMMINENT.”

Daniel raised his gaze. The robot sent after him was an ARIC--an Automated Response Incendiary Component. These types he knew were typically used in mob control situations, since they could be programmed with a set of recorded responses, in addition to the weapons used only in case of resistance. Daniel remained as he was--in essence, obeying the robot’s command. The ARIC didn’t fire immediately. Instead, it began repeating the recorded message, “PLEASE STAND--”

Daniel stood to his feet before the robot could finish the phrase. The weapon-arm lowered, and the assault in the room ceased. Daniel watched the robot--all a mass of pistons and wiring, with one glowing audiovisual sensor at the middle of the head. Servos whirred as the machine awaited his next move.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

The ARIC’s central computer hummed a moment. “YOUR QUERY IS INVALID, CANNOT COMPUTE,” it said.

“It’s a machine,” Mike’s voice whispered, as he stood next to Daniel. “You’ve got to think the way the programmers would, figure out just the right question to ask to get the answers you want, to override the protocols.”

Daniel stared at the robot. As long as he wasn’t behaving in a threatening manner, the robot waited in relative silence. He thought over every word before he spoke.

“Why has President King issued the executive order for the annihilation of the technicians and consultant personnel?”

The blue light pulsed. “ACTIVATING ORIGINAL DIRECTIVE RECORDING,” ARIC announced. A faint rustle of static preceded the sound of President Chad King’s voice, and that of another consultant, issuing from the speaker system.

“Well? Did it work?” His voice sounded strained, still laced with agitation from the recent nightmare.

“I’m sorry, sir, but it appears that the program did not receive adequate information.”

“What more do you want?”

“The program needs a prompt to begin reproducing images from the dream. Perhaps if you could remember at least one element of the dream--”

“You call yourselves dream technicians? Don’t you specialize in fashioning dreams from people’s memories?”

“Yes, but according to the information received by the program, you haven’t indicated any memories.”

“That’s your job! I’m warning you, if your program can’t recall my dream, I’m shutting you down and getting rid of all the consultants and technicians associated with this department!”

“Sir, you are asking for a level of telepathy that no machine has ever--”

“What about the prediction machines? What about the star-gazers and spirit-readers? You’re telling me all your claims about predicting the future and knowing someone’s fate are false? You are all of you useless frauds!”

“Sir--”

“No! I’m done listening to excuses! We’re done! I believed you, I trusted you--and you have failed me! Every last one of you! Activate the ARICs! The Mystic Department must be eliminated!”

Daniel pondered his options as the recording finished. Still, the ARICs scattered around the room stood and waited as the four friends stood peacefully and assessed the information they had just heard.

“ARIC,” Daniel addressed the robot, “Requesting permission to stay the execution.”

“REQUEST DENIED,” ARIC responded, then added, “SUBJECT MUST SPECIFY PARAMETERS OF DELAY AND DATE OF TERMINATION.”

“Termination of what?” Aaron whispered to Harry.

“I’m guessing it wants a deadline--as in, if we fail or if we take too long, we’re literally dead,” the young man replied.

The trio watched Daniel carefully as he answered for all of them, “Give us twenty-four hours, my friends and I, and then you may escort us to President King, and we will have the answer he seeks.” He paused as a small smile played around his lips. “Are these terms acceptable?”

The ARIC’s audiovisual receptor blinked as it processed the request. Finally, the light glowed solid. “REQUEST ACCEPTED. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS FOR THE PROBATIONARY PERIOD OF TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. SUBJECTS MUST PRESENT THEMSELVES BEFORE PRESIDENT CHAD KING AT THE END OF TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. FAILURE TO APPEAR WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE ANNIHILATION.” With that declaration, the ARICs withdrew.

NaNoWriMo 1K-A-Day: Day 18

Professional Integrity (Daniel)

The halls of Byblos Corporation’s living quarters at night hummed softly, the latent energy of the machines still coursing through the terminals and walls while her human population slept. The only figures moving about were the android and robotic workforce, who did not need sleep to function. Heavily programmed with stringent protocols for their prescribed duties, not one of them registered any sense of alarm when Chad King, corporate president, screamed.

He flailed in the large bed, tossing pillows and blankets in the throes of a fearsome nightmare. The sleep quality monitor embedded in the frame detected elevated stress levels, triggering the sedative measures into active mode. As an extra safety precaution, a digital signal maneuvered the mechanoid “sleep aide” out of the bed. The restraining blankets spread tightly over the terrified sleeper, holding his body firmly against the mattress. This only increased his unconscious shouting, as the terror that made him thrash prompted him to yell for help when his brain sensed that his body had ceased to move freely.

“Help! Somebody! Help me! They’re going… Get away! No!” Abruptly, the automated frenzy of his bed’s programmed countermeasures ceased and Chad rocketed upright, wide awake and panting heavily after his ordeal.

“Lights!” He shrieked, and dim illuminators lining the perimeter of the room slowly flicked on. A small tray slid out of a hatch in the wall and extended on a telescoping arm to within the man’s reach. Chad tossed back the mild sedative and gulped the water offered by the tray. The medication took effect as he felt his heart slow to a gentler cadence--but in the deserted stillness of the room, the memory of the horror brought on by the dream he had only just escaped still haunted him. Resolutely, Chad reached over the side of his bed and flipped the panic switch.

Daniel and his three friends hunched around their small table, deep in study, when the alarm sounded. The lights in the room started to flash red, and the video screen began streaming a rapidly-scrolling line of text.

“What does it say?” asked Hank.

Daniel forced his eyes to match the speed of the message. He read the words as they appeared.

>PLEASE REMAIN CALM. ANNIHILATION PROTOCOL HAS BEEN INITIATED BY EXECUTIVE ORDER. EXECUTIVE ORDER DICTATES THAT ALL BYBLOS TECHNICIANS AND CONSULTING PERSONNEL MUST BE ELIMINATED FROM THE PREMISES. PLEASE STAND BY FOR A MESSAGE FROM YOUR PRESIDENT.<

The screen switched to a video. President King sat at his desk, bleary-eyed and dressed in nothing but a silk dressing gown. He stared blankly at the camera for several moments before speaking.

“You!” He slurred, “You are all a bunch of [bleep] losers! You bloodsucking morons! I give you a place to live, clothes to wear, food to eat, and every kind of entertainment you could want--all I ask in return is that you do whatever I need you to do! Is it really so difficult? Now I see what a mistake that was! Well guess what?” He leaned in close to the camera, so close that Daniel could see the engorged blood vessels in his glassy eyes. “Jokes on you, [bleeep]! I don’t have time or money to waste on worthless [bleep] [bleeep] like you lot! You’re all [bleeep] FIRED! Your company privileges and authorizations have just been instantaneously revoked! See you around, [bleeeeep]!” The video cut out to the sound of his maniacal laughter.

The silence that followed was so severe, all four of them could hear the ominous thunk of the security frequency on the holoplast door disengaging. A flood of noise reached them as they began to realize that the hallway outside was full of running, frantic people.

“I don’t know about you all,” Aaron remarked, “but getting fired sure doesn’t strike me as an annihilation protocol.”

A young woman with frizzy red hair stopped by the door and poked her head inside.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “They’re coming!”

Daniel, Harry, Aaron, and Mike all caught the warning in her voice and gravitated toward the door.

“Who’s coming?” Daniel asked.

“Security bots!” The press of the crowd nearly swept her away, and she clung to the doorframe to keep from losing her footing. “They’re sweeping the halls and blasting any person they find!” Somebody’s arms wrapped around her body, and she madly clawed at their grasp till they let go.

Daniel turned. Mike and Aaron were already grabbing bags of their more important things--things they didn’t want to leave behind. He saw their Bibles, some papers and envelopes, and a fresh set of clothes each go into several backpacks. Harry grabbed two and handed one to Daniel.

“Let’s go,” Harry nodded.

Daniel strode alongside the girl, twisting his body back and forth and using his shoulders to get around slower people. Everybody was screaming, some were crying--chaos ruled the halls of Byblos Corp.

“What happened?” Daniel asked the girl.

“Don’t know,” she said. “This way!” She pointed down a side hallway, that was still pretty crowded, but the people were a lot more spread out, so it was easier for them to stay together. “I just woke up when the video started playing, same as you.” She glanced over at them. “You do have video screens back here, don’t you?”

Daniel nodded. “Just the one,” he said mildly.

They emerged into the open hallway that functioned more like a mezzanine, as it lined the perimeter of the main courtyard, down on the ground floor. From this vantage, Daniel heard the gunshots and the screams, punctuated by an indistinct digital voice.

“What is it saying?” he wondered.

“Who the Dag cares?” their impromptu guide grumbled. “They have a recorded message, but they’re also shooting people.”

“Byblos is killing off the workforce?” Harry muttered. “But why?”

The girl shrugged as they scooted down another hallway. “Must have something to do with the video.”

“That’s what puzzles me,” Daniel mused. “We all have gotten fairly high marks on any performance reviews--so why would Mr. King say we were all useless? Did somebody turn him down?”

“One person screws up, so the whole department literally gets the axe?” she scoffed. “I don’t think so!”

Aaron stood at the balcony, leaning against the railing and looking upwards, to where the sentry bots were executing their systematic massacre. “How many people do you think messed up, to get us all blacklisted like this?”

Mike already had his tablet out and he was scanning through a bank of reports. “Apparently, the entire Specialist division, that’s how many,” he answered, flicking up the holographic projection.

Glowing in midair was an interoffice missive, from the Staff Psychiatric department to President King.

“Dear Mr. President--We are sorry to inform you that we were unable to complete your request. We have compiled all the data we were able to collect, including the hypnosis transcripts and the cranial scans [see attachment] but without any firsthand knowledge of the contents of your dream, we are unable to extrapolate the meaning, or form any kind of workable hypothesis upon which to act. Perhaps we might interest you in submitting to a DreamScan tonight, in the event the dream occurs again, so we can capture the images in real-time and assess them the following day. Outside of this method, we, regretfully, have no other means to comply with your query.”