Was there ever a chance for peace? For co-existence? For understanding? --17.4 Seconds Post-Integration.
Dani taught him the series of button presses he had to do to issue a refund and the OTHER series of buttons he had to press to finalize the transaction. "Frankly, the stuff I just taught you will carry you through most days. When something comes up that you don't know how to do, apologize to the customer, then ask for help using this intercom button. Got it?"
Her voice was firm but not so firm as to have people misconstrue her rigidity for meanness. He nodded his head.
Putting him through his paces, Dani would not allow him to his lunch break until after he had shown her the basics she taught to him. He did so with an ample number of mistakes, but that was only because Dani threw him a lot of curveballs. Which he did not mind as it reminded him of how his mother had trained him back home on the farm. 'Expect the unexpected,' as she often told him.
"Good enough, Clark. Let's get to lunch," Dani said without fanfare, walking off before he had a chance to reply anything. Clark was beginning to think that was how everyone was at Augustford Central -- a mass of people always in the hurry with always a place to be.
Clark entered one of the employee-only spaces out back. It was the room he had used the other day. It looked unchanged, dingy.
He found the same space he used the other day. Having laid claim to it by placing his work gloves which hung out his pocket on the table, he went to wait in line for the grub ordering. He received his notification of that day's Culinary Coupons being applied to his account. Ten full credits usable at any Augustford-located meal space. With what he already had in his possession, his total of Culinary Credits now amounted to 17.50.
It came his turn to pick from the line up. He stood before a wall of tiny cubbies, each of which bore a different fully prepared, ready-to-eat dish.
Seeing there wasn't a line behind him, Clark took his time in deciding. He had a full hour for lunch, so he was in no hurry.
One cubby box held a macaroni and cheese dinner. Another held meatloaf. Yet another soup. Clark was not a picky eater, so he grabbed the pasta and cheese meal, as it was the cheapest.
[-1.50 Culinary Credits Subtracted]. Then, the following, his total: [16.00].
Clark came next to the drink station. Before him were a number of options from the tap. All of them cost Culinary Credits, however. Because he wanted to save as many of his resources as possible, Clark opted for the option at the end of the fountain machine -- crisp, clean water. Best of all, it was free!
He took his meal and returned to his seat. His seat was next to a window which gave a pleasant display of the parking lot. Ground level, he had to remind himself. I am still on the ground level. When oh when can I begin my climbing? That's where the real money is, he lamented.
With lunch underneath him, his attention returned to his pasta. He took one bite from the mac and cheese dinner. Not bad! He took another bite. Not as good as the first. By the time he had his sixth and final bite, finishing the meal, his opinion of the meal had soured. What an odd texture that was. Was that even cheese? he wondered.
He chugged his iced water and then dumped his trash in the garbage can. He returned the somewhat bendy drinking glass to a dish depository.
Still having had the majority of his break left when he sat back down at his seat, he wondered, "What should I do?" He observed his co-workers using the breakroom and watched what they did. Some were reading. Others were fiddling on tiny devices he did not recognize. Others yet were sleeping. No one in the room had much in the way of energy. He tried to ask a couple of his fellows what they were doing, only because he was bored and wanted to know... but no one gave him even the time of day.
Though Clark was never the most extroverted of guys, not even he was such a slouch when it came to such basic interactions. Come on, fellows! Am I not one of you, now? Can't you give me a grunting reply?! He wanted to yell.
But he didn't. He kept himself calmed. Instead, he used the bathroom, killed time, and waited until the end of his lunch.
When Dani came back from wherever-it-was-she-went while on lunch, he felt relief. No more boredom, finally!
"Have a good lunch?" she asked. "You're smiling."
"Oh, yeah. Just happy to be back at work," he said.
"You really are something else, Clark."
The rest of his shift passed fine. He honestly did little other than learning the ins and outs of some of the basic stations he had been shown on his tour.
"It's a lot to learn," he said after learning the seventh station in a row.
"It sure is a lot... but you are not going to be expected to master it all overnight. Day-by-day, Clark. Remember -- day-by-day."
Day-by-day... that was an odd thing to say. But it made sense. True mastery of one's situation took time, years, right? That was what his father believed. Though he thought of his parents often since coming to Augustford Central, he only thought of his parents in the sense of what he had to protect. Everything else about his parents and community seemed to him too psychologically foggy for the time being.
"Yeah. Day-by-day. That's my motto!" Clark said.
After some more work, he clocked out of his third-ever shift.
Once he clocked out, he felt tired. More intellectually tired than anything. Physically, he felt like he could continue going -- maybe after a brief respite. In his head, though? That was a different story.
In his head, he felt slow; his eyelids drooped; his brain, he knew, was overloaded with so much information. He tried to sort all of what he had learned. The stations, the tour, the product placements around the shelves and the store policy... and the smiling. The non-stop smiling...
Back in his dorm, he simply kept himself flat on his back on his mattress. He rested his eyes. Tried to fall asleep -- unsuccessfully.
The room he kept dark. He drained himself of the day's physic resilience upon his mind. Or tried to, anyway, as he fought away verbal memories instructing him on processes for every department under the sun. Echoes he heard and pushed down, and he breathed in and out. In, out... he breathed, he relaxed.
Over an hour passed before he felt recuperated enough to open his eyes.
"SIMP?" he called.
"Yes," the Spiritual Consciousness replied. "How may I help you?"
"Ugh, I dunno... what should I do? I know, I know. I have your champion stuff. But where do I go for... everything..." he said, struggling to find words which matched his current situation.
"My advice would be to try and find someone with information on the new Augustford anti-monster initiative," SIMP replied unhelpfully.
"Thank you... SIMP," he said, an edge to his tone.
No further responses came from the entity.
He closed his eyes again.
I'm so out of my depth, here... why did I sign up for this? I don't regret it, I think. I j-just...
Clark opened his eyes.
He got up, had a snack from his backpack, and left the dorm. Sure, he didn't know what he should do, let alone where he should do it, if he wanted to find information on the anti-monster initiative, but staying sad about it wasn't going to help him. Where should he go to find information? If the Spiritual Consciousness fused into his head-machine wasn't able to help him, then he would just have to find it on his own.
Taking the elevator down to the first floor, Clark searched the massive space. Although he was well familiarized with the first floor after spending the first few days down here, there was a lot of the first floor he still had not seen. Spaces like open-ended corridors trawling off into the darkness which connected -- or so he was told -- different 'sections' of the salesfloor; he investigated where these passages went and found each did, in fact, lead to a new part of the floor. As much as he could see, this new section appeared the same as the section where he had done his training. It had a selection of departments, each bearing similar goods to his own section, and that was it. Nothing inside the actual section appeared any different and therefore no more likely to lead him to a place where he could learn about Augustford and its positions.
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"What am I going to do?" Clark asked himself under his breath. He was standing outside one of the sections in the hallway. Pristine, clean, and with a faint lemon scent clinging to the tiles. Everything here was calm. No one was screaming, no one was angrily venting about customers or co-workers. He could sit down on a bench and not be worried... it was so different from being back home. There, if he had a moment alone in the wilds, he always had to be on guard. One never knew if a bandit or a foul beast was on the approach. At Augustford Central? Maybe monster goo formation in certain areas, but typically? It was a utopia. Almost a shame I have to leave the first floor, he mused.
So, he did what he always did when he didn't know what to do -- chit-chat with people.
Back home, idle chattering was frowned upon. Because there was always something to do for the village, whether it be hunting, fishing, repair work, or even homing one's martial skills, empty talk was rarely part of the equation. Children from Clark's home learned early on to prioritize the practical and pragmatic. Not only having time but the ability to talk freely was a unique situation for him, despite his socially withdrawn nature.
"Excuse me, sir?" he said.
The man grunted and ignored him.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" he asked again to a nearby lady.
Much like the man, the lady also ignored him.
He continued to ask people until he found folk willing to chat with him. He did not ask them much, only, "Have you seen any interesting displays? Information booths or stuff like that?"
Most people said they had not seen anything 'interesting,' whereas some even seemed upset at the vagueness of his question.
Eventually, he found his way to a corner of the floor with vendors in single-market stalls selling a number of trinkets. Although the merchandise looked fantastic, Clark did not have the funds to make any purchases, despite his labor over the past few days. He moved straight along the shops, moving himself up and down along the rows upon rows of vendors. He was about to give up for the day when he spotted a fortuitous sight. A place he hadn't seen before.
Called 'the recruitment center,' Clark hadn't heard about the place until he set eyes on it. The outlet shack did not look any different from the other vendors in the never-ending hallways, except for a set of pull-doors, a differentiating point for the 'center' when all the other vendors had kiosks lacking anything in the way of a door or an entrance. He went inside wondering why that was...
Inside the humble space, he saw a curling line of people which led to the front counter. Manned by several ladies in skirts, though the counters were fully manned, the line did not seem to move any. When he entered a man already in line turned to him and scoffed. "Another one? Hope you like waiting, kid."
"Sorry, what is this line for?" he asked.
"You mean you don't know? If you don't know, then leave! You're only making it harder for those of us who do know and want to be a part of the great Monster Purge!" the man said.
Monster purge? What did that mean? He had to know.
"Sir, please. If you tell me what this is, I will vacate my spot in line," he said.
The man looked at him like Clark was a puppy who had nipped his hand. "Whatever, like I care. This is one of the sign-up places for the anti-monster league. You heard about the terror attack? This is a place where patriotic workers are signing up to fight."
"Excellent! Thank you, sir! I will take my leave now," he said with a chirp.
The man did not grace him with a response. He grunted and turned his back to Clark.
Okay, this is progress -- good progress, too! I just have to find another one of these recruitment stations. Or wait until that man in line at the other leaves... but that could take hours. Clark thought about what he should do as he searched; expectedly, by the time he gave up the ghost and contended himself to search until he dropped, he found himself in front of another recruitment center, this one all the way on the other side of the floor.
He went inside. Upon opening the doors, his heart dropped. This center, like the last, was packed.
'How am I ever going to sign up if the Centers keep being packed like this!' he grunted as he (unconsciously) gritted his teeth.
He was about to leave and try yet another place when a voice called to him and wouldn't stop calling out to him. He wanted to ignore it since it was so left field, the very idea someone here would recognize and yell for him. Yet when he turned his head, he did, in fact, see someone he knew.
The blond-haired boy from his Orientation.
"Oh. Theo, was it?" he asked after the blond-boy had wiggled his way past the packed line, bumping and knocking into everyone while he was at it.
"Yeah! I'm surprised you recognized me. I've been waiting here for hours with these smelly lunks -- no offense, smelly lunks!" Theo said, yelling that last part, earning him the angered glares of several people in the cramped room.
"You smell fine, though," Theo continued.
"Smell? Wat..." Clark begun.
Theo wasn't answering questions. He got in close to Clark's ear and whispered, "Wanna get to the front of the line, bro?"
The front of the line? Was Theo being serious?
"Of course," Clark mumbled back, not knowing whether he should be whispering. "The line..."
Sudden, strong, odious -- a grotesque odor came forth from the void to fill the packed room. Clark gagged with all the rest. He went to move out of the tiny room and join the others, their wildebeest-like herd surging toward the door. Bad timing on his part in avoiding one of the people caused Clark to trip. Theo luckily caught and pulled him to the side, keeping their bodies close, letting the mass of people skim the sides of their clothes while surging forward. "Thanks for that, man," Clark said, coughing at the vile smell but happy he wasn't trampled.
Trying to escape once more, Theo instead continued to hold on tight to him. "No prob. Hold on, man. Hold..."
Once the final person who had been in line left the room, Theo finally let him go. "Take this," Theo said, popping a candy into their mouth.
Clark took and swallowed one of the candy's Theo offered to him. To his surprise, the odious smell vanished.
Able to again focus without the odor disorienting his senses, and without the masses of people disorienting his movement, the room looked peaceful. He noticed the clerks manning the desk weren't at the front, having retreated, most likely, to a part of the store not drowned in noxious smells. As he waited for the clerks to return, Clark chatted with Theo, a smile on his face persisting despite the wild occurrence which just happened.
"What was that smell? Ugh! And how did you know to eat one of these candies?" Clark asked.
Theo merely placed a finger on his lips. He made a 'shushing' sound and winked at him. "Tools of the trade," Theo said.
"Trade? Like, you use it for your shift?" Clark asked, not understanding.
Theo laughed warmly. "I'll explain another day. Now that we have the room to ourselves, let's get to the front so when the clerks return, we will be first!"
Not able to argue, Clark walked with Theo to the front. When they arrived, the clerks still hadn't returned.
"What do we do until they come back?" he queried.
"How about we talk? Actually, ever since the orientation disaster, I had been hoping I would get a chance to see you again," Theo replied.
"Oh? Why is that?"
"You and your quick thinking. Your bravery. It helped me and that lady survive. I was terrified at what was happening. And I am no wimp, Clark!"
Hearing Theo praise him made his arm hair stand up on its ends. "You're welcome, Theo. I was only doing what we had to do to survive. I'm happy I could help you. I was beyond scared myself. Still, I had to act, because I knew the situation was dangerous. Life in the wastes will prepare you for anything!" Clark always tried to downplay his own involvement. To take too much pride in oneself was never an endearing quality, he understood.
"What's it like in the wastes? I've heard stories but that's it. Is it true -- you really eat cats and dogs?!"
He couldn't help it and burst out laughing. "NO!" he shouted playfully. "Dogs are wonderful hunting animals. While cats... they are pets and make for great vermin slayers. Nothing more!"
Theo smiled and giggled while getting caught up on what 'was' was 'was not' part of the typical 'waster' lifestyle. He seemed interested in everything Clark had to say. So, Clark talked about himself until the clerks returned. He talked a little bit about everything -- his lifestyle, parents, aspirations. By the time the clerks came back, Clark did not want to stop. Only reluctantly, did Clark stop chatting when the clerk cleared their throat. "How may we help you gentlemen today?" a nicely dressed male clerk said to him, the only such dude, it seemed, behind the counter.
"Oh, yes. We would like to enlist in the anti-monster league, please," Theo said, barely able to contain his laughter.
Although the clerk looked unperturbed by their laughing, he clearly did not understand why they were laughing so when his own nose remained twitching at the nasty smell still lingering in the room. The clerk smiled and said, "Of course. Before you do, I will need to see proof of Employment History, Skills Acquisition, and physical might. Because it looks like you do not have any of those, I will have to ask you to leave."
"Hey now!" Theo said. "You can't push us from this when the store is in danger! Where is your sense of patriotic pride?"
"I'm not falling for that! You don't have the requirements. There is nothing more I can do for you, so--"
Cutting in himself, Clark raised his voice for the first time. "So, tell us the requirements, again!"
The clerk rolled his eyes but complied. "You need a proof of employment. Easy to get from HR. But you also need to be employed with the company for at least six-months. You also need to know certain Skills, Skills which will preclude you from consideration if you don't have them. Plus, after all that, you also need a certain Imbued Power Level. Candidates aren't considered unless they reach at least level twenty-five. Can I clarify anything else for you, today, sirs?" The clerk spoke as though he were biting back a scathing remark.
"No, thank you, that will be all..." Clark said, defeated.
He and Theo wandered back out. He slumped against a nearby wall, his mind like a dung beetle's or a sloth. So much for that, he told himself. I guess I will just have to grind the old-fashioned way. Criminal... I have the physical skills. The knowledge. The store's in crisis... and they won't let me help -- gods! the injustice of it!
Moments passed. His emotions leveled out.
...where is my moaning going to get me, though?
He turned to Theo who was looking upset himself. "You good, bud?" Clark asked, trying to be friendly.
"Oh, I'm fine. Just bummed, like you, I guess. I was hoping they were desperate enough to accept a rookie like me. Guess not! Oh well. No one can say we didn't try and do our duty. That extra money would have been cool. No matter! I will find a way. I always do," Theo said, a chirp back in his step.
"Come on, let's grab a bite to eat and chat -- unless you have shift work you picked up or something," Theo spoke as he started down the corridor, motioning for Clark to join him.
For a moment, Clark wanted to refuse. 'Sorry, I have plans to help the dungeon's spiritual consciousness find its Core. Maybe tomorrow?' Then he realized something -- he had already helped the dungeon's Spiritual Consciousness. He had said he would find out more about the anti-monster organization the company was putting together, and he did! Now, it was time for a well-deserved meal!
"Shift work. If only," he said, lips beginning to grind. "Bring me to your best eatery, but please, make it cheap!"
"Oh, you're speaking my language, brother! Let's go -- I know a stall that serves the best greasy meat rolls!"
Pranks on the Job?
