0 comments/  25225 views/  3 favorites

Running on Fumes Pt. 01

By: Krenna Smart



Chapter 1

Labor status pending?" What on earth is going on? Kimmi Riasco thought as she watched the evil red light blink on the computer screen in her cubicle. Labor status pending! What does that mean? Kimmi looked over her shoulder to make sure none of her co-workers were close enough to see what she was doing. Not that it would matter for very long she thought. Once something like this comes up on a labor status report there's very little time before the shit hits the fan.

Kimmi silently blessed her father who had been chronically paranoid about computer citizen maintenance reports (CCMR's) and had hammered into her head that she should check her status at least once daily from different locations. Kimmi had asked him if that wouldn't just make 'them' more likely to scrutinize her files. Her father replied "just don't do anything wrong" which was a sensible enough answer. But he also warned her never to take her status for granted.

And now the nightmare scenario seemed to be coming to pass. Status pending meant that someone, somewhere, was revising her labor code. Kimmi didn't believe in urban myths where lowly gray workers got status upgrades to gold overnight as a result of computer glitches, and no-coders suddenly became rich. But everyone knew someone who had their credits attached, their housing revised without notice, or their labor status downgraded or terminated overnight. Kimmi had noticed that such things were happening more and more frequently since the most recent pan-global citizen net upgrade. Gold protected Gold and everyone else could go to hell. Or at least that's how it seemed to work these days.

Kimmi's labor status was a mid class shade of blue. Her father had registered her for a slot as a Human Resources Specialist when she was ten years old. Blue was steady and untouchable, or so her father had reasoned. Her mother had been irate, wanting something more glamorous for Kimmi, like a red artist slot or a bronze for athlete. Kimmi's father had been adamant. He reasoned that there would always be a need for Human Resources Specialists since there would always be pan-global corporations with employees to manage.

But daddy hadn't anticipated the huge labor glut the pan-global community was experiencing in 2079. Hundreds of thousands of skilled laborers were out of work. Hundreds of highly coded individuals would show up on the doorstep of any corporation that even whispered that it might be hiring skilled laborers. 

Unskilled laborers such as sanitation disposal workers, cleaning staffers, exterminators, and food service technicians as well as lower tech people such as dull data entry technicians were still in great demand. No one wanted the insecurity of an artist code. Athlete's codes were almost as good as gold but you had to be exceptionally gook. Otherwise you were shoved into an unskilled code as a generic physical laborer.

Skilled laborers - those that used to be called white collar, blue collar and pink collar workers had glutted the market twenty years ago. And the market just kept getting worse. Two years ago a friend of Kimmi's had joked that times would get so bad that Human Resources Specialists would become extinct. Employees would be so hard up no one would dare complain about management tactics and Human Resource Specialists would have to be declassified.

Big Joke!

Seeing her code flashing red reminded Kimmi of that day two years ago. She had heard rumors of impending lay offs at Krowe, Pan-global, but hadn't listened carefully. Was it true? Was her position being reclassified? I have to know. How do I find out? 

Kimmi started with a general computer inquiry as to the status of all blue codes at Krowe Pan-global computer inquiry as to the status of all blue codes at Krowe Pan-global. ACCESS DENIED flashed across the screen. What? That's not right. I'm a human resources specialist. I'm automatically entitled to this information. What the hell is going on? All right, let's try the back door. 

Kimmi worked for two hours, humming retro-rock between her teeth while she sorted through corporate information which someone was trying hard to keep under wraps. She had a knack for this type of work. If truth were to be told, she liked hacking better than most of the things she did as a human resources specialist. Maybe I can re-group. Go back to school if worse comes to worse she thought worriedly. None of the information she was receiving was cheery, although nothing so far explained why her status was pending.

Maybe it was just a glitch. Check it again. It was 12:30 and time for her take or lose lunch. Forget lunch today. This is a perfect time to dig in deep and get some answers.  She ran the check on her status. STATUS PENDING flashed evilly in her face. Damn it. How long has it been pending? LAST ENTRY 9/22/2079. Just today. Good. Nothing drastic can happen without my knowledge now. Origin of change in code state? she queried. LEVEL 17, CIRCULAR B3A.

What the HELL? I've never heard of this. Request access to level 17. ACCESSING.

"Kimmi?"

Kimmi almost jumped out of her seat. Her best friend and sometime lover, Alex Sumner came into her cubicle, bearing gifts.

"Oh God, Alex, you damn near scared me out of my wits."

"Why? What are you up to?"

"It's nothing." Kimmi didn't want to confide in Alex. Alex thought her routine code status checks were a sign that she was slightly paranoid and a little off kilter. He had caught her checking her status a few times and finally asked her about it. She told him a little bit about her father's suspicious nature and left it at that. He'd laughed about it. Better your father's paranoia than your mother's temper he'd said.  What did he care if she had her mother's temper?

"What's on your computer that has you looking so fierce?" Alex asked, peering over her shoulder to get a glimpse at her screen.

"It's just a general data search that's taking longer than I expected," Kimmi said, hitting escape and blanking out the screen. "I can do it later. What are you doing here, anyway? I didn't expect to see you until tonight."

"I had a few items to research and a report to give to the Executive committee. "

The committee was headed by, Chester Beatty, the Chief of Security Affairs. Alex had a double code. Yellow for upper management and black for security. He thought he answered to Beatty. Everyone thought Beatty was the man behind the throne at Krowe. Dr. Glory Agneus Krowe, the President and Chief Executive Officer held the thrown. She was the forty eight year old widow of old Raven Krowe. She looked like she was thirty. Alex first met her at a Christmas party. It was a costume party. Glory was dressed as an icicle. Alex thought the costume suited her to a T. She was sleek and long and lean. Her tapered body was wrapped in real silver foil. Her eyes were silver and accented by implanted eyebrows of titanium, with a lovely one carat diamond implant on her left temple. At least it looked like a diamond. 

Glory's hair was frosted silver. She had a stubborn jaw which bespoke a temper that smoldered. Her mouth often looked petulant. She could be a demonic when crossed.

She was an enigma to all but her very few confidants. Beatty was not one of them. But six years ago, at the time of Raven Krowe's death, Glory had unexpectedly put responsibility for day to day operations into Beatty's hands. The responsibility came with a caveat. The day Krowe Industries started losing money Beatty would be terminated. That's exactly what she told him during a quiet meeting six years ago.

Beatty handled the day to day operations of Krowe very well. He had his ways of ensuring that Krowe Industries remained in the black. Some of them were brilliant, long-sighted and above board. Others were murky, semi-legal, and very rewarding. He dressed those up for the Pan-global Securities Exchange Commission to look legal on a regular basis. Glory never questioned Beatty's operations. As long as the money rolled in she was happy.

Glory had a different agenda.

Side by side with the pan-global's medical facility, the top two floors of Krowe's largest building, where Kimmi and Alex worked housed Krowe's Oneiros Division. This was Glory's realm. The division's activities, called the Oneiros protocols, were experimental and very carefully guarded. Glory was the hands- on helms man of the Oneiros Division. Beatty was charged with ensuring that nothing, ever, leaked out about the Oneiros protocols. One day, over tea, Glory explained to Beatty with a sweet smile on her face that any breach of security would be a fatal mistake. For obvious reasons Beatty was obsessed with corporate security issues. Beatty rode Alex hard when it came to developing and installing state of the art security for Oneiros.

Alex was far up on the Corporation's list of promotable young managers. He was only 33 but carried more labor clout than many men twice his age. Few women ever made it close to his yellow level and only one or two women had achieved black standings. 

Glory had seen Alex advance in the corporation. She had been sending out subliminals to him right and left and was quite ready to take him under her wing when he approached her several months ago about flaws in Krowe's security systems. She let them slip into a secret little affair, and then boosted his ego by increasing his power. But she held him tightly reigned in.

Glory had laughed at Alex's nervousness at their first meeting when she told him she wanted him to be her body guard on a few occasions. Then she spoke kindly, and oh so condescendingly about his relationship with that "pretty thing, Kimmi, he ushered about." Alex walked out of the meeting feeling confused, kind of disgusted, and unexpectedly aroused.

What's with that? Alex had thought. Old lady Krowe is the last woman on earth I'd want to sleep with. isn't she? But Good God all that power she holds. If she's half as amazing in the sack as she is to look at, it would be really, really tempting. Nothing like a good power fuck! And I swear she was wearing pheromone perfume. Oh yeah. She wants me.

Alex was aware that he was a handsome man. His brown hair was had coppery highlights and was thick and wavy. Baldness genes had been bred out of him or had never existed. He had none of the pigmentation problems that so many red-heads had in these high UV days. His big hazel eyes looked green in some lights and brown in others. His eyebrows and lashes were black, not red, which gave him a commanding air. He had high cheekbones and a strong chin. His mouth was broad and his smile was almost too pretty to be masculine. His teeth were white. His nose was maybe a little bit wide but women didn't seem to mind. 

Alex had a full throaty laugh that always made Kimmi want to join in before jumping into his strong arms. When he was upset or angry he looked very imposing. Kimmi was convinced that at least half of Alex's success with the corporation was due to his imperious air. 

Some women might think he was a little short. Kimmi liked his height. He was 5'11." Kimmi was only 5'4" and she appreciated how well she fit next to him. He was required by his black code to remain in top form. He followed a strict martial arts regimen, was an excellent ocean swimmer and had won awards in college on the spring board.

Women generally fell at Alex's feet when he wanted them to. But a single sideways glance from him would put them off permanently. No one liked to cross Alex. Kimmi, however, had known him since he was fourteen and she was ten. He had been her champion, her first crush, her first lover, her best friend for ever. But now things were changing. He was an up and coming power in the corporation. Kimmi was a stable blue with little chance for advancement. Kimmi had never really thought much about whether Alex and she had a future together. She had always taken his presence in her life for granted. She didn't know that she was beginning to be considered a liability to his career.

Alex knew this. It had hit him like a led balloon that first morning in Glory's office. He didn't like it one bit. The one stable thing he had ever had in his life, aside from his job was Kimmi. His family had been completely dysfunctional. His mother, Diane, had given up her parental rights to him at his birth. He was the seventh of her eight children. She had decided not to parent any of them. His father was unknown, but believed to have been high enough up in the government to assure Alex a decent adoptive home. Unfortunately the adoption had been for economic reasons rather than love. Alex had been raised by a cold, parsimonious adoptive mother and a brow beaten father. 

Alex had been delighted to receive the yellow/black status after high school graduation. He had celebrated the day he left home for good by taking Kimmi's virginity. She hadn't protested, nor had she cared much for the sexual act. She had learned to like it though, Alex reminded himself as he looked at Kimmi this afternoon. He was certain that Kimmi had had no other lovers and wanted to keep it that way. He, of course had had many lovers. But none of them meant anything to him. Kimmi was the only woman who could get inside his head and help him puzzle out the many things that made no sense to Alex. 

Like the time his cats cornered a pretty, yellow parakeet in his dining room. God knows where the bird had come from. Alex had saved it. He carried it about the apartment for two hours wondering what the hell he was going to do with a parakeet. He didn't want another pet. So he went out onto his second-floor deck and opened his hand for the bird to fly free. He hadn't noticed that the bird's wings were clipped. The parakeet valiantly flew down to the yard below. Less than a minute later, Alex watched in horror as a stray cat tore the little bird into pieces.

The cat walked away licking its chops and Alex went inside to call Kimmi. She was out of town on business and she'd forgotten to leave her itinerary on his computer. So Alex went to bed. He felt like someone draped a sodden black wool blanket over his bed. He couldn't get up to go to work. He was tormented by the incident for three days until Kimmi came home. 

When Kimmi got off the airplane she felt an urgent need to call Alex. She called him from her cell phone. It was three in the morning. Alex answered on the first ring. 

"I knew it was you," he said. "Kimmi, I'm a mess. It's over this ridiculous little thing, but I can't get it out of my head. Can you come over?"

Kimmi hopped on the tube with her luggage and went straight to Alex's place. No questions asked. They talked about the bird for hours. Alex finally put the bird to rest. Then Kimmi and Alex made slow tender, almost sorrowful love. Kimmi opened herself up to Alex and they climbed to the pinnacle together. Alex tensed, then poured into her. Then Kimmi came as Alex made a final few plunges into Kimmi's warmth.

They rested for about an hour. Then Kimmi got up and started to dress.

"Where are you going," Alex asked?

"I have to get home. I've been away for four days. I have a few things to do before work tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"No, no, Kimmi. Please stay the night. I want to sleep with you. Surely you've got something in your luggage that you can wear to work tomorrow. We'll take the tube in together in the morning."

"I really shouldn't stay. " Kimmi hedged.

"Shouldn't, or don't want to?" Alex asked.

"Both."

"Too bad," Alex said jokingly. "You're here now. And you're mine, all mine. I will not let you go until I've ravaged you again and you hear the call of the morning dove."

He pounced on her playfully and began taking clothes off while she put them on.

Kimmi laughed. "This isn't getting me anywhere."

"I guess you'll just have to stay."

"Oh, for.... Okay, you win. But I get breakfast in bed. Deal?"

"Deal."

If Alex had ever stopped to analyze his feelings for Kimmi he might have realized that his was a possessive love, bordering on obsession. He did his best to keep the relationship low keyed. He didn't want the ownership to go both ways. He didn't really want to marry her, although he wanted her to be available to him as needed. He certainly didn't want children. Not yet, anyway.

"So, what's up with the Executive Board these days?" Kimmi asked. Any scuttle but about new labor codes or anything?"

"No, Alex said. "You know I can't talk about what goes on inside those meetings."

Alex eyed Kimmi critically, as he would a prize possession.  She looks good today, but worried. I wonder what's up.

Kimmi's hair was chestnut, but it bleached out in the summer to various shades of light and dark brown. She wore it long with bangs that accented her cornflower blue eyes. She had a rack of freckles across her nose that had made many of the boys in high school want to treat her like a little sister. The nose, itself was turned up at the tip. Her ears were slightly pointed, as if she were part elf. Her mouth was generous and her face was a pretty oval with delicate lines. She had a long, graceful neck and the body of a modern dancer. Her legs were well muscled, her abdomen was flat and her breasts were small but shapely. Her hips were narrow. She was proud of the fact that she could do twenty men's pushups without busting a vein. 

Alex felt a swell of desire as he looked at Kimmi. Then he felt cross at himself. Remember what Beatty said. No point in getting in too deep with a woman who has no real stake in Krowe, pan-global's future. She's only a mid-level blue. She hadn't even applied for a subsidiary color or an upgrade when her four year contract expired. She has no real goals and no ambition. And now, with the labor glut and the specter of mass layoffs, how secure can a relationship with Kimmi be. Not very. he concluded. Are they going to get rid of her? Is that what the old man was trying to tell me at the meeting? If so, then what? Should I think about applying for leave to co-habit so she'll have secure housing? Should I ask her to marry me so she won't have to worry about her future? Would doing either of those things be fair to her or to me? Her parents' past and her lack of ambition could poleax my career advancement. Ah, hell, she doesn't want to be tied down, anyway. Besides, she's safe. Even if she's terminated she has some money set aside from her father's insurance settlement.

Kimmi's father, Mark Riasco had lost nearly everything in the upheavals of the 21st Century. He had been raised by his maternal grandparents in a little-known "neo hippie commune" in the Midwest where he was deposited by his artist parents when he was three years old. His ancestors had been victims of the great depression and well-known labor organizers. Kimmi's father's upbringing was steeped in anti-government sentiments. He had cut his teeth on stories of economic hardship and governmental betrayal. Kimmi came by her suspicion of governments and large corporations honestly. You could say it was bred to the bone.

When Mark left the commune for college in 2038, he had sworn that his kids would have a normal life and bright futures. He had worked his way through college and a master's program in computer technology and mathematical statistics which had guaranteed him a stable, upper middle class income. He met and married Laura Tausen in the summer of 2043. By that time he had a $300,000 student loan debt. That debt, along with the $750,000 he and Laura shouldered to buy a child-friendly house in a good neighborhood outside Philadelphia had crushed all spontaneity out of his character. Mark had worked steadily from nine to five every work day for 34 years. His spare time was spent renovating the house and maintaining its yard. He refused to spend money on vacations, or anything else that might be considered frivolous.


Running on Fumes Pt. 01



Mark was careful and wise with his investments. When so many of his friends had bought into the trendy inter-global techno-market, Mark had scrimped and saved to put money into solid mutual funds and pension plans. He also horded precious stones with a 'just in-case attitude' that Kimmi's mother said was genetic. Mark had ancestors who had escaped Nazi-Germany with precious stones sewn into the hems of clothing. Mark was actually buried with some of the stones ancestors had brought with them to the United States.

Many of Mark's friends were wiped out by the energy crisis of 2053 and the stock market crash of 2054. Mark's investments were not too badly hurt. However his annual income had ceased to increase after 2052. His needs kept growing. The house had a balloon loan, and the interest rate skyrocketed when he was forced to re-finance in 2053. The government-mandated energy renovation in 2054 required further high-interest financing. Kimmi's mother ran up $150,000 in credit card charges before walking out on Mark and the children in 2055. Mark never seemed to have enough money to pay anything more than interest charges on any of his debts during the time period which came to be known as the upheavals.

Mark was 38 years old when the new social orders were established, in 2058. Mark owed over a million dollars all told His income was $380,000 per year. The house was his only solid asset. It could not be liquidated because he needed it for the three kids. He gave up the car, which didn't lower his debt -- He had owed more on the damn thing than it was finally sold for so his debt rose again. 

Mark was a cynic. When he was told by the inter-global financial advisor that it would be smart to consolidate all of his debt so he could at least meet the interest payments Mark had laughed in the man's face. The inter-global corporations were buying up everyone's debt. People with up to $1 million in debt were allowed to refinance, with the understanding that this or that inter-global corporation would now own the loan. If you fell behind on payments, the corporation could automatically divert up to 25% of your primary income and 99% of secondary sources towards repayment. There would be no need for protracted collection attempts or court action. BLAM no more income.

Mark refused to consolidate, so, month by month he paid what he could, and watched his debt balance increase.

Mark was transfixed by the Pan-global mandated Congressional proceedings concerning the new social orders. He would watch tapes of the proceedings after work every night and rant and rave at the holo viewer. "What about due process?" he would shout. Sometimes he would go around singing an antique anthem "I sold my soul to the company store." Mark felt that allowing corporate ownership of personal debt was selling one's soul to the devil. "'Pay what you can to the people you borrow from and not a penny to anyone else," was Mark's litany. His debt grew and grew. By the time Kimmi went to college Mark no longer even pretending to meet interest payments. "They can bury me in a public grave with a pine coffin and let my debt go to hell along with me," Mark was fond of saying.

Kimmi's mother, Laura, was an artist who had turned in her paint brush for a typewriter in 2049, when Kimmi was 6 months old, to help make ends meet. Laura's pay was a drop in the bucket but at least it gave Laura a sense of financial independence. She had felt like a failure through out the first 6 years of the marriage, even though Mark insisted that it was more important for her to be home with little Marky and Victoria than that she work or worry about art work that wouldn't sell. Laura and Mark had married in 2043, when Mark was only 23 and Laura was 20. Marky was born in 2144 and Victoria was born two years later. Kimmi didn't come along until 2049.

Laura and Mark did their best not to let the children know about the vicious debt circle they were living in but the money problems ruined their marriage. Night after night Mark would come home bitter and depressed from a job he disliked to a home he had no love for. He was chronically depressed but neither he nor Laura had enough insight to seek help. No one paid any attention to his demeanor at work. All they cared about was his production level which was exemplary

Mark's feeling of hopelessness made him mean at home. Laura fought back. Pitched battles raged in the home seven days a week. 

Nothing was sacred. Everything either Laura or Mark knew, liked, or, God forbid, loved, became fodder for their violence. If the violence was not physical in the morning, dinner would go flying through the air at night. Mom would end up with a black eye and a twisted arm one night. Dad would have a bloody nose the following day. Recriminations were never followed by apologies. Kiss and make up? Either parent would just as soon leave another scar. 

No one ever talked about the problems at home. 

The children watched, wide eyed, understanding only that their parents hated each other. Laura and Mark never gave a thought to the emotional havoc the battles were reaping upon their children. The two adults paid very little attention to the children other than to be sure that they didn't go to school naked or hungry. 

Then Laura got the guts to leave. She walked out of the marriage and out of her children's lives on Christmas Eve, 2055. Laura wanted a whole new life that did not include a husband or children. She speed-typed her way into a good job at an inter-global corporation, and from there worked her way into middle management. She sent the children $1000 every birthday and Christmas. 

Mark was so angry at Laura for leaving that he went to Court and had her visitation rights terminated. Kimmi's siblings were angry at their father for making their mother leave and at their mother for leaving. Kimmi was too young to understand.

By the time Kimmi's mother left home, Kimmi had learned that any expression of anger would bring devastation into her life. Any slightly ruffled feather in her nest was terrifying. She became a peacemaker who would try anything to prevent family members from getting upset. But of course her efforts were fruitless. Every time she opened her mouth someone would scream, throw something or strike out. The home was a war zone.

Kimmi learned to do exactly what she was told without question. Tears and fears, and arguments were not worth the havoc they would wreak. Kimmi got up for school on time did her chores, did her damnedest not to irritate her father or either of her siblings, and went to sleep each night grateful for a little respite from the stomach-wrenching anxiety of keeping the peace.

Mark really, really did love his children. It was just so damned hard to go through day after boring but anxiety-filled day at work, where he was never sure if he would be the next to be laid off, without feeling resentment and anger. It was just that Mark didn't know who or what his resentment and anger was directed at. His home and kids were easy targets. So he lashed out a lot. He never went in search of the happy life he had wanted. It slipped through his fingers. He just watched it go. 

Mark slipped into deep depression and dragged his way to and from work seeing a future of old age, infirmity and death. Mark took out a $5 million life insurance policy in 2057, two years after Laura walked out. The policy was they only thing Mark paid in full, month after month, year after year. 

One day in 2067 when Mark was 47 years old he was run over by a commuter train on his way to work. The train platform had been crowded and no one could say what really happened. After a two year battle the life insurance company settled the claim with poor grace by paying off Mark's debts and attorneys fees and giving each remaining child $500,000. It was a bargain for the insurance company. Laura got nothing.

Neither Mark nor the children knew, but Laura had developed an affection for vodka during the last two years of the marriage. She became angrier and crazier as the years passed. Finally, in 2065 she was diagnosed as bi-polar. The medication made a world of difference, but she continued to drink from time to time. Laura was a different person in 2067 than she had been during her marriage to Mark. 

Kimmi had been stunned to see her mother at the funeral. Her brother and sister were furious that Laura showed up. When Laura went to the tomb with the rest of the family, Victoria got so mad that she shoved Laura. Laura fell headlong into Mark's tomb. The entire scene was a catastrophe. Kimmi later said it reminded her of one of those very old Ingmar Bergman flicks.

The existence of the life insurance policy was disclosed at what Kimmi was always to think of as 'the pathetic will reading' after the burial. There was another screaming scene in the lawyer's office. Victoria had been sure that Laura had somehow known about the policy and was present only to see if there was some way she could get her hands on some of the money. Kimmi got up enough nerve to tell Victoria to shut up. How could Laura have known about the policy? It had been locked in Mark's safe deposit box. Victoria threw herself at Kimmi. Marky had stepped between them threatening to strangle them both if they didn't behave. Kimmi was incensed. It was Victoria's fault. Everyone knew what a vile temper Victoria had. 

Laura started laughing. "Its clear you all get your temperaments from both sides of the family," she said.

"That's not fair," Kimmi said. "I hardly ever lose my temper, but I'm sick of hearing Victoria's crap. I've been listening to it all my life." Victoria was ready to fight again but the lawyer came out with some papers to sign just in the nick of time.

Laura wanted to work things out so she could re-enter the children's lives, but Marky and Victoria were still too angry to talk. Kimmi agreed to meet her mother after school the following Friday.

It had been ten years since Laura had seen the children when she showed up at Mark's funeral. Kimmi was 18 years old, and a senior in high school. Victoria and Mark were both struggling through college.

Mark had established labor codes for Victoria and Marky when the first social orders were issued in 2058. Victoria was a nurturing child when she had her temper under control. Mark set her up for medical training under a "white" code. Victoria went straight into nursing as soon as she received her degree. Marky was a "green" educator like his father. The "green" code was a coup. It entitled Marky to full scholarships through a doctorial program in a selected field. 

Now, at age 36, Marky was well a head of the game with a permanent green code, no debt, a wife who also had a green code and three beautiful children. He and his wife had made peace with Laura and moved to Oregon where Marky taught behavioral sciences to undergraduates.

Victoria had also done well for herself. As a white she had gotten what she wanted - access to eligible bachelor doctors with good earning potentials. She finished nursing school in record time, and moved to Colorado. She married Dr. David Dixon, OB, and GYN and would be delivering her third baby boy in December. She had the house, the cars, the swimming pool, the cleaning staff, a well paid job and a very busy husband.

Kimmi's college years had fled by. She got through the undergraduate program on student loans in three years. Krowe Corporation had latched on to her in her senior year and promised her a full scholarship for her masters degree if she gave them a four year commitment after graduation. This was fine with her. She finished her masters program in 2074. Now, five years later she was still with Krowe in the blue code position. She had earned a lot of perquisites and a few awards, but had never bothered to obtain subsidiary status or to upgrade her status to anything more permanent than mid-level blue. It hadn't seemed necessary. Until today.

Now she realized she had been like the grasshopper in the fable. Looking only at summertime and not planning for winter. Kimmi was horrified at herself. How could I have been so damn stupid?  Dad warned me and warned me not to be complacent about job security. I let the four year commitment expire happily, thinking about freedom of choice. I ignored the economic signs. All hell has broken loose in the labor market. New layoffs are announced every day. All of the pan-globals have sought declassification of some labor categories. Does Dad's adage still stand up that as long as there are pan-global corporations there will be human resource specialists? I doubt it. No one has come to me complaining about their treatment by Krowe in at least 7 months. Our work load has gone down dramatically, Kimmi realized with a start. Are human resource specialists going to be the next to go?

What'll I do if that happens? Go back to school? Maybe I could swing it if I moved in with Alex. Is that what I want, though? Life as Alex's other half could be awfully tedious. At least the way things are these days. He doesn't know me half as well as he thinks he does. Sure he cares about me, but it's like I'm one of his belongings, not like he really considers me to be a partner. We haven't even really been sleeping together that much lately. Not that I mind. I keep wondering "is that all there is to sex and relationships? Ownership and grunting under the sheets? Christ. This is a nightmare. I wonder if Alex knows anything. Maybe he'll' buy me lunch and I can interrogate him subtly."

So Kimmi put on her brightest smile after closing down her computer. I'm glad you're here. I was going to work through lunch but I realized I was starving the minute you walked in my door. What have you brought me, anyway?" Alex had stopped off at a vending machine and picked up a tired bouquet of roses for Kimmi. .It really was very thoughtful of him. Kimmi adored roses.

"Thanks," she said as she took the bundle of red long stems out of Alex's arms. What's the occasion?

"Oh, nothing really," Alex said. "I just realized on my way over here that we haven't done anything romantic in a while. I thought I'd set a mood by bringing flowers and seeing if you're free for lunch."

"Oh. That's sweet. Let me get a vase." She spoke into her microphone, "server one, please dispatch a flower vase to cubicle thirty seven, authorization zed 61.

AFFIRMATIVE, the automated server replied, COMMAND COMPLETE. A vase appeared in the cubby hole next to Kimmi's desk.

"I love these servers," Kimmi said.

"I know. They're quite an addition to the workplace. Now if they would just dress them up in short skirts and high heels and teach them to run around men's desks, we'd really have something special."

"You pig," Kimmi exclaimed, laughing. I didn't know that was what you wanted in a woman. And here I was so set in my ways as a macho mamma. You wanted Secretary Susan all along. Do you think there's any hope for this relationship," Kimmi asked, flirting outrageously.

Alex's ego was flattered. It was rare that Kimmi showed any real concern about the status of their relationship. They both took it for granted, but they took it different ways. Kimmi thought the relationship was nice, comfortable and right. She didn't really believe in the bells and whistles that other women were always longing for. Kimmi thought what she had with Alex was about as good as it gets. She wasn't in a hurry, however, to get married. 

"So where do you want to go for lunch?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. How much time do you have? I'd kind of like to get some sun."

"I have plenty of time. There's a good Tex-Mex place on the far side of the courtyard. It has some tables outside. I thought it was supposed to rain, though."

"Not until tonight." Kimmi said. "If it has outside table, I'm game. This time of year I start to really feel the pull of the sun." 

It was mid-June. The days were long and the beaches were starting to get crowded during the weekends. Kimmi loved summertime. She had a theory that people were happiest during the time of year they were born. Kimmi was a summer baby.

Kimmi and Alex walked out of the building and into the mall. They headed for the tube. The tube was a super fast people mover that operated like an elevator connected to a subway. It was an essential part of the humongous business and shopping complex that covered hundreds of miles of southeastern Pennsylvania. The complex had started out as the largest shopping mall in the world in the 20th Century. Then office buildings had connected up to the complex. A transportation system that was decades ahead of anything in the United States had been put in a fifty years ago. The complex and the transportation system kept growing and growing. Now it was the premier workplace complex and a model for modern American living. Of course people had their homes away from the complex. Some employees came from as far away as Harrisburg and Northern New Jersey to work at the complex. Over the years, pan-globals all over the world had built complexes similar to this one, which had really sprung up by accident.

Alex punched in their destination and they stood side by side during the ride to the outer rim of the mall. The tube had stops every eight minutes. Kimmi amused herself during the ride by recalling her first year psychology course and predicting where each new rider would stand while the tube made its way through the complex. If there were three people in the car they would form a triangle. With four there would be a person in each corner. Five - four in the corners and one in the middle. It became more complicated after that but Kimmi could always tell where a new rider would position him or herself in the car. And of course everyone faced front, watched the light indicator over the doors and stood as still and silent as possible. Tube etiquette fascinated Kimmi. She always wanted to do something truly outrageous during long rides in the tube, like grabbing the nearest bald, aging businessman and giving him a hard wet kiss.

The ride took sixteen minutes and they arrived at the restaurant just as a large group of pink collar clerks were leaving. Kimmi and Alex grabbed a table on the outside terrace. The complex was relatively environmentally friendly. The view from the terrace was refreshing. There was a great field below the terrace which stretched out for about a half mile. There was a wide creek at the end of the field. The grass in the field was long and graced with wild flowers. If you listened you could hear the buzz of bumble bees in the flowers below the restaurant. The scent of honey suckle was strong. Looking closely you could see buttercups and clover and Queen Anne's lace interspersed with the grass in the field. As she was seated, Kimmi noticed riders on horse back at the far end of the field. As she watched they trotted down to the creek and let the horses drink. Kimmi felt rejuvenated just watching the scene from her seat at the table.

"This was a great idea," Kimmi said. "Look over there," she pointed at the horses. "What wouldn't I give to have free time on a day like today to play?"

A wait-droid came over with a bowl of tortilla chips and salsa. He handed them menus and described the day's specials.

"I feel like some wine," Kimmi said. "What about you, Alex?"

"That sounds good. How about a bottle of chardonnay?" Alex gave the waiter their selection. The waiter moved on to another table. Alex and Kimmi opened their menus. Alex snagged a tortilla chip, dunked it in salsa and started munching.

"Yumm, this is good salsa, try some," Alex said, handing Kimmi a chip.

Kimmi popped the chip into her mouth. "Hot! Oh that's good. So what do you have on your calendar this week, Alex?" Kimmi asked. 

"Oh, we're running some security protocols. They'll be both on line and physical. Expect to get an evacuation alert sometime this week."




Running on Fumes Pt. 01



"Great," Kimmi said with little enthusiasm. "That'll cheer people up around the facility."

"Do they need cheering up?" Alex asked. "They shouldn't. They've got jobs, after all. With the labor pool so large these days most of the employees in the facility could be replaced in the blink of an eye." Alex looked at Kimmi guiltily. "I mean, people should be happy to be working, shouldn't they? So many people are being no-coded these days. If you lose a job at a place like ours your career is trashed. I hope that's what you tell the folks you counsel. Man. Good stable corporate jobs are better than gold or diamonds."

"Is that what they've been telling you on the top floor, Alex? Hold onto your job at all costs so you can have a quiet, comfortable time waiting to die after you retire? Is that what life is all about?" Kimmi asked Alex passionately.

"What bug's bitten your butt, Kimmi?" Alex asked. "You know corporate stability is the key to a meaningful life. You get enough credits for a great house, you get married, have children, go on vacations, and work to get the good things in life. And when you retire your personal and medical needs are taken care of. The companies even have corporate graveyards now for the long termers. The bodily remains are stored in a vault with a plaque describing your contributions to the company."

"When did you become a voice piece for the company?" Kimmi asked Alex, disturbed to hear her friend so entrenched in corporate goop.

"I'm not a voice piece," Alex said. "It's just the way things are these days. Work, kids, vacations, retirement, death."

"What about adventure, excitement, exploration, invention, love?" Kimmi asked.

"You get those on the vid screens and in holo-decks. Or you can go to sleep and dream about them."

The waiter was back. He mechanically presented the wine to Alex, poured a bit into a glass for Alex's approval. Alex Okayed the wine. The waiter poured two glasses.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"

"So much for feminism," Kimmi thought with a sigh as she took a long sip of the light, flavorful chardonnay.

"Yes," said Alex. I'll have the soy burrito with red beans and rice. Kimmi, what are you having?"

"I'll have the sea food Quesada. Oh, and can we have some guacamole for our chips, too, please?"

"Very well," said the droid.

Kimmi grabbed a few more chips and dunked them in the salsa

Alex lifted his glass towards Kimmi and sipped. He looked out over the terrace wall and felt an urge to shed his jacket and shoes and go running with Kimmi through the field down to the creek. He wanted to splash in the water like a child. 

A cloud crossed the sun. Alex felt a sudden pang, a premonition of loss and sorrow, and then it was gone. The sun came back. Kimmi smiled at Alex. 

"God, what a gorgeous day. Wouldn't it be fun if we could just throw off our work clothes and run down to the creek in our underwear?"

"Nah," Alex joked. "The creek's probably polluted. Those horses you saw drinking a few minutes ago are going to have stomach aches tonight."

"God, are you Mr. Dour or what?" Kimmi said, laughing. She sipped her wine and stretched her feet out under the table. "You know what I'd like? A year off to do what ever takes my fancy."

"You should marry a rich man, then, kiddo. You be able to do what ever you want while you raise his heirs."

"Oh, yuck. That's not what I mean. Don't you ever get the urge to throw away the trappings of civilization and live by your wits?"

"Hell no. I wouldn't survive a week out there without my job and my credits and my entertainments. You wouldn't either, Kimmi. Face it. You are not exactly a frontier woman."

"Oh Alex, there's more to life than jobs and kids and entertainment."

"You're right, of course, "Alex said with a leer. "There's sex."

"And that's it? Is that what mankind boils down to for you Alex? Lord. I've known you for years, Alex. You're not a corporate drone. Have you finally bought the whole package? I'm surprised at you. There's more to you than that."

"Here's our food, Kimmi. Let's not fight. It's a beautiful day. The wine's making me loquacious is all. I'm enjoying myself in a beautiful setting with a beautiful woman and life is good. Okay?"

"I guess." Kimmi was really disturbed by Alex's attitude. Where's his fighting spirit? she wondered. What have they done to his personality? Alex was always the champion, the first in the water at the swimming pool, the first up the tree. The corporation has squashed the life out of him.

Kimmi dug into her seafood plate, sipped her wine, ate a few chips, and thought about the conversation. There's got to be more to life than what Alex has boiled it down to. If not, what's the point?

"So when are you going to have the security alert?" Kimmi asked as she bit into her Quesada.

"Next Tuesday, 2:15 p.m., but don't tell anyone. We want to assess employee's reactions to a high level security call. Everyone will be evacuated, and the building will be sealed off as if there were a terrorist takeover of the entire complex. Black and yellows will be the only personnel allowed in the structure during the event."

"What about the medical unit?" The corporation's medical clinic was state of the art and touted as the wave of the future for medical care in the United States. It was really a small, experimental hospital which took up most of the top two floors of the primary building. Corporate employees received medical care at the unit. It had all of diagnostic equipment that most city hospitals lacked. It had beds for the truly sick, a pharmacy, and clinics for walk-in customers. It was clean, bright, and extremely efficient. And it cost the corporation a fraction of what traditional medical insurance would cost a corporation with the number of employees it had on site.

"The medical unit's exempt, of course. We couldn't evacuate the unit even if terrorists really took over the compound. The unit seals itself off and awaits direction from the CEO. In a worst case scenario, the unit would self destruct."

"You're kidding! I didn't know that," Kimmi said.

"Well, its not common knowledge, and don't spread it around. You know what I heard?" Alex lowered his voice, "if terrorists ever did get hold of the compound they would go straight for the hospital. It has all kinds of drugs and there are some very interesting experiments going on."

"What kind of experiments?" Kimmi asked, fascinated. Alex rarely spoke of this aspect of his job. Everyone was a little curious about what went on behind the scenes in the corporation. Alex was Kimmi's only insider.

Alex hedged a bit, not wanting to reveal his level of knowledge about the research. "Some metaphysical stuff. You know. Telepathy. And everyone on the planet's playing around with genetics so I guess there's some of that in the unit as well."

"Wow. What about telepathy?"

"They're looking into a way to channel information into the brain through dreams," Alex said very quietly. He looked over both shoulders as he spoke. "Can you imagine it? You're dreaming away and suddenly there's your boss telling you that he's going to fire you if you're late one more time?"

""You're kidding me!" Kimmi said, aghast. "That's horrible. Dreams are like sacred territory to me. No one should have access to another person's dreams."

"But its happening," Alex said. The wine was loosening his tongue more than it should. He wasn't authorized to talk to anyone about the dream work he'd been exposed to. "Have you ever been dreaming and then all of a sudden your dream takes a turn and it's like you're watching a movie instead of dreaming. Like there's a projector outside that's sending images onto the wall of your dream screen?"

"Yes," Kimmi said, slowly.

"That's what they're trying to achieve. They're trying to find a way to put images into the brain during sleep that would be like information on a monitor or a movie on a screen."

"Dear God," Kimmi said. "That's the rankest invasion of privacy I've ever heard of."

""No, Kimmi, don't you see the possibilities? Generals could get messages in their sleep that could win battles. Scientists could learn volumes while they sleep."

"Perverts could give us nightmares. Advertisers could put in commercials. NO WAY. I never want anyone to have access to my dreams. For in-put or out-put. Our dreams are the one thing that remains utterly personal to us in this God-awful, media infested society."

"You just don't understand. It would be a breakthrough of Olympic importance." Alex was fired up on the idea. He finished off his burrito and reached over the table to grab Kimmi's hand. Think of it. People could dream together. They could work on projects while they sleep. Down time would be up time. It could change the world."

"And we would never get any rest at all. No thank you. My dreams are my own. I don't want anyone screwing around in them. That's a territory that should not be explored." Kimmi said firmly. She divided the rest of the wine between the two glasses and finished her Quesada before she spoke again.

"Alex," Kimmi said, "It sounds like you're getting pretty chummy with the folks at the top of the mountain. What gives? Have you fallen into someone's good graces? Are you moving up the ladder?"

"Well, I don't want to be just a corporate security lackey all my life. I want to go places. Have a little clout. You know. Some of the guys have taken an interest in my ideas on security. It looks like I could go places in this corporation," Alex said cagily

Kimmi felt put out by that. What about me, she thought with a jolt of fear. My labor status is pending and Alex is going up the ladder. Hell. I have a master's degree. He has a high school diploma. But he also has brains, brawn and looks, Kimmi conceded in her assessment of the situation. He deserves to make it in the corporation. But I hope he doesn't lose himself during the climb. And what about us? Do I want there to be an us?

Kimmi started to speak hesitantly. "You know I check my labor status regularly, right, Alex?"

"Yeah," he responded. You're kind of obsessed about it."

"Well today it came up "status pending," Kimmi said. Do you know anything about that?"

"Status pending?" Alex was deeply disturbed but he didn't want to frighten Kimmi. "Maybe you're up for a promotion or an award. I don't know anything about it."

"No. If I was up for something good the computer would have alerted me. This is bad. I have a really bad feeling, "Kimmi said. You know the corporations are changing labor codes right and left. And with the labor glut, human resources has gotten kind of superfluous."

"You're not superfluous," Alex assured Kimmi. "It's gotta be a glitch in the system."

"I hope you're right," Kimmi said as she finished her wine.

"Do you want desert?" Alex asked.

Kimmi looked at her watch. 1:30 already. "No. Hell, I'm late as it is. What a day to be late. Status pending. I'd better get back and see if I still have a job." Kimmi tried to make it a joke but it fell flat.

"I'll pick up the tab this time," Alex said as he flagged the waiter. The wait-droid presented the bill and Alex pulled out his Chromium Krowe Credit Card, glad the waiter hadn't been human and expecting a tip. 

Fifty decacredits for a light lunch. Not too much damage Kimmi thought.

Alex offered Kimmi his arm and they strolled back towards the tube. Kimmi noticed there were more street people begging for stray credits than she was used to seeing. A pretty oriental teenager ran up to her with a paper flower and asked for five credits. Kimmi smiled and clicked in ten credits. Poor kid looks like she hasn't eaten in a week. Kimmi thought. I wonder where she sleeps, how she survives.

"Kimmi, why do you let those people get to you?" Alex complained. 

"She was hungry. We just spent 500 times more on lunch than I gave that child."

"Yeah, but she'll use it for 'Feel Good', or 'Promise." She won't buy food. She's a druggie."

"You don't know that. Not every no-coder is a junkie."

"Most of them are," Alex snarled.

So much for romance. Alex can really be a prick, sometimes Kimmi thought.

"When did you become so up tight, Alex," Kimmi wanted to know.

"I'm not up tight. Just realistic.

Kimmi decided to let the matter drop.

The tube was crowded on the way back. Half way through the ride a street actor entered the car and started a speech condemning pan-globalization. He talked about damage to the rain forests and exploitation of children. Kimmi listened, fascinated, and started to give the guy a couple of credits but Alex grabbed her hard and pulled her away from the man.

Kimmi was pissed off. When they got off the tube she turned on Alex. "How dare you treat me like that? I'll give credits to whoever I want. You don't own me. "

"You're acting like a hippy child," Alex retorted. "People live on the streets because they can't make it in society. They're defective. Yes, they have their place in society, but I don't have to support them. Neither do you."

"Kimmi wanted to slap him. This was a side of Alex she didn't care for. If making it in the corporation means you hand in your humanity, it's not worth it.

Alex tried to sooth Kimmi by pulling her towards him and kissing her hard. She pushed him away. "I don't like you very much right now, Alex. I'm late and I gotta get back to my cubicle. Call me tonight. Maybe we can work this out. I just don't know what's gotten into you."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Kimmi. Are you going to join a no-code commune and save the planet?"

"Oh go screw yourself, Alex." Kimmi stormed off.

CHAPTER 2

When Kimmi got back to her cubicle there was an e-mail waiting for her. Please report to Mr. Windom upon your return from lunch. And there was a flag from her bank, which she didn't take the time to look at.

Kimmi was close to tears. Whenever she got mad she cried. It was an instinctual response. She felt like such a baby. She hated arguments. To her, fights were earth shattering experiences. She especially hated fighting with Alex. He was her ground board. They never fought. At least they'd never fought like this. And now a meeting with the Windbag. Great. This is just great. This is just what I need to top off a half a bottle of wine and a fight with Alex. I'm probably going to be reprimanded for being late.

Kimmi logged herself back on to the computer, leaving a message for Windom that she would see him in fifteen minutes. She pulled out the emergency toothbrush and tooth paste she kept in the office sure that Windbag would love to catch the smell of wine on her breath and send her to alcohol counseling for five years. She left her cubicle and made her way through the rabbit warren like office to the ladies room.

Compose yourself, Kimmi she chided herself. You can't go into windbag's office looking like a baby who's lost her lollipop. She gave herself a pep talk as she brushed her teeth. She washed her face and carefully re-applied lipstick, blush, mascara and eye shadow. She decided she looked okay and was ready for battle.

Somehow the world seemed to slow down as she walked from the ladies room, through the rabbit warren and into Windom's corner office. Later she could recall every face she saw as she made her walk, and every scent she smelled. Marian's God awful perfume; chicken nuggets, horrible microwave popcorn butter. The carpet felt like glue as she walked. Friends nodded to her as she passed. The air conditioner kicked on. 

Kimmi walked into Windom's office with her head up and a counterfeit smile on her face. "So, Sol, what's up, I know I'm a little late back from lunch but I've got plenty of unused personal hours, so it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Windom cleared his throat. He was an ugly man with a face like a bull dog and a big, bloated body. He was six foot five and weighed nearly three hundred pounds. He treated the employees in his section like serfs from the middle ages. He, of course, was the lord of the manner. Lard of the manner Kimmi thought meanly. He had to shop at "big men" stores, and he always picked out the ugliest attire he could find. And, he smelled. Kimmi had long ago concluded that Windom was just too obese to be able to reach into many of the cracks and crevices of his body with soap and water. Thus the smell. But he was a good administrator. Kimmi had some affection and respect for the man.

"Kimmi, I'm afraid the late lunch isn't the subject of today's meeting." He took a theatrical pause. "I'm not quite sure how to tell you this. You've always done your job well, as far as I can see. But the word's come down from the exec committee that we're cutting out some slots in human resources."

Oh Christ, this is it! Kimmi thought. "What do you mean you're cutting out some slots? How many slots? Whose slots?" Kimmi looked into Windom's dark grey eyes and she knew.

"Well," Windom said uncomfortably, "you and your unit. I'm sorry."

"US? Why us?! Is anyone else affected?

"It's not just you. It's every blue in the entire corporation. Rumor has it that human resources codes may be eliminated pan-globally."

"Oh, Jesus Christ! This is just too damn fantastic. How much time do we have Sol? Are they kicking us right out the door, or do we get to stay for a few miserable weeks and scramble for new codes or postings. Dear God, what am I gonna do? I've always been a blue code. I don't have any training or experience in any other color. And there's already a glut in the labor market. I'm dead. Pole axed." Kimmi was starting to shake, but she clamped down and put a stopper on her emotions. I'll cry later, when I'm alone. Now I have to think, and not react. Be calm, girl, chill

"The company's giving the standard two weeks. They're recommending that employees with personal and comp time accumulated use it during the two weeks."

"Oh, they'd like that, wouldn't they? Then they wouldn't have to compensate us for those hours after we leave. Oh no. I'm working every single day I have left and I'll tell the others to do the same. Fuck the exec committee. What a sleazy recommendation."

Kimmi was fired up now. She was really pissed off. What about health care? How long do we stay on the rolls for health coverage?"

"It ends when you leave, Kimmi. I'm sorry. That's the way it's done these days."

"What about our pension funds? What happens to them? Christ, I was going to be vested in five years. How soon do we get our pension money?"

"I don't know about that" Windom said with a sigh. I guess they'll give you your money when you ask for it."

"They'd better. Okay, so, I'm out of here in two weeks. What are you going to do without me?"

"I honestly don't know, "Windom said sadly, shaking his head. "Will you help me tell the others about the lay off?"

"Are you going to tell everyone today?" Kimmi asked. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. The wine had worn off and she was getting the beginning of a migraine. She felt like someone was sticking a knitting needle up through the back of her neck and across behind her left eye. This is going to be a whopper of a headache and my medicine's at home. I should just call it a day. Windom can do his own dirty work.

"Yeah, I thought I'd call a meeting in the large conference room. Break the news all at once. How many are there in your section?" Kimmi was the senior HR specialist and had some supervisory responsibilities. 

"Five" Kimmi said. "With me there's six." Kimmi's headache was starting to make her nauseous.

"Uh, I don't think I can do this today, Sol," Kimmi said suddenly. I feel sick. I think I'd better go home, take some medicine, and put an ice pack on my head. 




Running on Fumes Pt. 01



"You're going to leave me with this mess?" Windom wasn't happy at all at the thought of giving five employees the news their code was being eliminated. "Kimmi, they'll crucify me. They hate me already. I can't go in there alone."

Kimmi thought about bolting for home. Its Windom's job, not mine, to give them the news. Hell, he's the only one left with a job so he should have to wield the hatchet. But then she thought about how her coworkers would be feeling after the meeting. She knew she couldn't go home until the news was out and everyone had their say. This really stinks.

"Okay Sol. I'll go in with you wearing my pink slip on my sleeve. But I'm leaving when the tears start. You wouldn't have anything for a headache, would you?"

"Yeah, actually, I do. I have a couple of pain killers left over from when I sprained my back. Remember?"

"Yeah, what an idiot you were getting up on a chair to try to change an old burned out light bulb." Kimmi laughed at the memory.

"Ah, but the ambiance of a nice yellow light is so extraordinary. You don't see it much anymore," Windom said solemnly. I just had to try. Anyway, I have a couple of pills left. Here, you can have them."

"What are they?"

"I'm not sure. A mild pain killer. I don't remember being knocked out by them."

"Alright, I'll try one. Then I'm going to lie down in the ladies lounge until the meeting, okay?"

"That's okay by me. It's not like you're going to be missing any deadlines or anything. You have to admit, the human resources section has been pretty quiet lately."

"Yeah, what a joke. My father said as long as there were corporations there would be human resources slots. He thought it was the safest possible labor code. And I felt safe. Shit." Kimmi gave Windom a wry smile and headed off to the water cooler. She downed a pill and left the section. Her head was throbbing now, and she was getting the sparkly lights that came with her worst migraines. She made it to the closest ladies lounge and gratefully lay down flat on her back with the palms of her hands pressed on either side of her head.

In the meantime, Windom e-mailed Kimmi's section that there would be a meeting in the large conference room at 4:00. 

Kimmi could feel the tension oozing out of her body. What ever the pill was that Windom gave her, it sure was effective. Kimmi started to feel like she was floating in air with her head about six inches above the rest of her body. Disconnected, Kimmi thought. I feel like I've been disconnected from the pain. All of the pain. Wow, what is this stuff? Kimmi lay on her back with her feet up and started to hum a little tune. She was close to heaven, and then she fell asleep. 

BAM! Kimmi was bumped into a dream. Alex was opening her bedroom door. He was wearing black satin trousers and no shirt, there was a sultry breeze. His hair was blown across his forehead. He looked ruggedly sexual. Kimmi was in a spider silk robe that was open to her waist, exposing her breasts. She was so very, very hot, and spoiling for sex. She had to have it. She reached out her arms towards Alex and closed her eyes.

She opened her eyes expecting to see Alex coming for her fully aroused. Instead she looked into the gray, blood shot eyes of Sol Windom.

"Kimmi, wake up, its show time. Your section employees are in the conference room. We have to go deliver the news."

"What? Sol? What are you doing here? Oh God." The room was spinning around Kimmi. She was completely disoriented. "What in the world?" A wave of nausea hit Kimmi and she ran into the nearest toilet stall. Her lunch came up quickly. After, Kimmi was weak and drawn with pain. She was also higher than a kite. 

"Oh shit." Understanding dawned on Windom. "Kimmi, I think you're having a reaction to the pain killer I gave you."

"I'm not in pain any more, Sol," Kimmi giggled. I feel really, uhh, mellow." She gave Windom a crooked smile. "So, where are we going, Sol."

"I think you'd better just lie back down and sleep a little longer. I'll have to wield the axe myself. God help me, its going to be a blood bath." Windom shook his head sorrowfully as he plodded out of the ladies lounge.

"I'm sorry Sol." Kimmi said as she drifted back to sleep. This time she did not dream. Or if she did, she didn't remember.

Sol lumbered into the conference room and took his place at the front of the table. Five faces looked at him expectantly. They don't even have a clue about what's happening, Sol thought sadly.

He cleared his throat. He wished he could smoke. Tobacco always gave him comfort. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said more formally than he had intended.

Everyone quieted down.

"Friends," he said. Someone snickered at the back of the room. This group didn't consider itself Sol's friend. The snicker made it easier to break the news.

"I have an announcement that is of utmost importance. I mean, ... that is... oh Christ, I don't want to be here. This is the worst...

"What's up?" Angie Maloney asked. "You called the meeting. You may as well spit it out."

"You're right, you're right. Okay. This is what's happened. I was notified by the exec committee this morning that Krowe Pan-global is eliminating its human resources department."

"What?" Angie cried. And then everyone started shouting questions at once. Sol felt like he was being pelted with pebbles. He wished he could just pull his jacket over his head and slink out the door.

"So what's the story?" Someone finally got himself heard.

"There is no story," Sol said sadly. "Human resources will be shut down two weeks from today. Management wants to encourage you all to take leave during the next two weeks if you have it coming to you."

"Wait a minute," Dave Butler burst in, "are they going to try to screw us out of our leave pay on top of this? Are they saying we have to take our leave or loose it? That not fair."

"No," said Windom. "They haven't gone that far. They just thought the close down would be less painful if people took leave."

"That's crap and you know it. They just want to get us out as inexpensively as possible. Christ! Two weeks. What am I going to do?" Dave's voice had an edge of desperation in it. The other human resources personnel turned towards him to offer comfort.

"The meeting went on and on. Everyone was miserable. Lives were being torn apart. Some had safety nets and other talents to explore, and were trying to be cheerful. But the bottom line was that in two weeks everyone in the room except Windom was out of the corporation. Unthinkable!

Kimmi's absence wasn't noticed until the meeting was winding down. The group decided to go out on the town and get properly inebriated. Someone suggested using Kimmi's credits because she was the manager and then they realized that Kimmi was missing.

"Hey, Windom, where's Kimmi?" Dave asked. "Did she get the axe or is she hiding because she couldn't face us."

"Oh, she got the axe alright. It made her sick. She's sleeping off a pain killer in the lounge. I probably ought to go wake her."

"Nah, I'll do it," Angie said. Maybe she'll come out with us to drink a toast to Krowe Pan-global -- the civilized pan-global corporation. Shit. Those futher muckers at the top of the corporation are cold as ice, and mean as a junk yard dog. They don't do nothing for no one but themselves and not even that if it don't make money. Angie was seething mad.

Angie ran her hand along the wall as she walked through the warren towards the ladies lounge. "So, Mr. Windbag, are you going to join us in our revelry tonight?"

"No. I don't think..."

Angie's anger reached a crescendo. "Why the fuck do you get to keep your job?" she cried? Why are all of us going down? We did our jobs. We walked the corporate walk. Why are they throwing us to the wolves?" She brushed hot tears out from under her ever present sunglasses. She hoped Windom hadn't seen her crying.

He had. But what was he supposed to do about it? He did what he was told to do and that was that. End of story. And besides, he had other problems to deal with. He stopped off at Glory's office long enough to tell her the result of the meeting and then he was out the door.

Kimmi had just awakened when Angie got to the lounge. Her head was still spinning, but at least her feet were firmly planted on the ground, she thought. She looked at herself in the mirror. Oh yeah, I ought to try out for an acting slot -- bride, no, mistress of Dracula. She jumped when Angie opened the door.

"Oh! Oh, hi Angie. I thought everyone was gone."

"Nope, we're all still here, except Windbag. 

"So, you got the news?" Kimmi asked.

"Yeah. It's a pisser, ain't it?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't know ahead of time did you? Wilson said he thought you did and that you were trying to suck up to management - that was why you weren't at the meeting."

"Wilson's full of it. Windbag told me before the meeting. He wanted me at the meeting to soften the blow somehow. But I got hit with a migraine and then Windy gave me a painkiller that sent me to the moon. I was out of it. I wanted to be at the meeting but I was barely alive when he came to get me. I couldn't even walk."

"You look like hell."

"Thanks a lot."

The two women exited the lounge and started to make their way to the front of the office where the rest of the Human Resources workers had gathered.

"Hey, we're all going out to celebrate our declassification, Angie said. I think there will be major drunken whoopla and other goings on. Do you want to join us?"

"Where are you going?"

"Well, we're all as mad as can be at Krowe so I don't think any of us wants to stay in the mall compound for our fun. We were talking about tubing into the city."

"Into Philly? On a week night? What do you think you'll find to do there? Isn't it kind of dangerous? Kimmi was surprised the gang was so adventurous. It had never showed in their work. But then again, how adventurous can a Human Resources job be?

"I don't know what we'll find. But it will be better than sitting around feeling bad and worrying about the future. Besides, some of us are feeling down right dangerous tonight. We deserve a night on the town. Come on, Kimmi. What do you say?"

"What the hell," Kimmi threw her hands up into the air. "We are wounded," she laughed. "It's our night to howl! Howuuuuu"

"Now you're talking," Angie said happily.

Kimmi and Angie met up with the rest of the group at the entrance to the city tube. The tube that served the mall area was a light weight, high velocity people mover intended to speed pedestrians on their way in and our, up and down the mall. The city tube was a like a great serpent. It slithered and coiled throughout southeastern Pennsylvania and parts of Jersey giving commuters from far and wide access to workplaces on the Pan-global network. It brought the suburbs to the city and the city to the suburbs. But ultimately, all roads lead to the Mall and Krowe Pan-global. 

It was a sticky night. City tube stations weren't air conditioned. The rest of the Human Resources gang was in a funk over the job lay off. Wilson scowled at Kimmi as she and Angie walked up to the station. Kimmi ignored him and presented her credit chip for a tube card. She was superstitious and always bought enough for one extra ride.

Kimmi turned to join the group but there was Wilson, towering over her and venting steam. Wilson was well over six feet tall, and was built like a fighter. He was all muscle. There was nothing graceful about him. 

He snarled as he looked down at Kimmi. The street light cast rays that seemed to enfold and surround Wilson. "What the hell are you doing here bitch?" he wanted to know. "You should be in bed at home with your yellow jacket. I hear he's got a great stinger. Is he going to sting his way to the top. Are you going with him? You shouldn't be here Kimmi. This party is for the losers. You have nothing to loose, do you. You've got it all sewed up, don't you?"

Kimmi was still feeling some of the effects of the pain killer so everything felt and sounded like it was encased in cotton. "What are you talking about?" She thought Wilson was threatening her but she couldn't connect up the knowledge with emotion. "What yellow jacket? I'm allergic to bees."

"Oh ha ha, very funny, Kimmi, Wilson stormed. You sure aren't allergic to your yellow jacket Alex, the security drone."

Now Kimmi felt stung. And the effect of the drug receded. Her head cleared, but she could feel the migraine insinuating itself into her consciousness.

Kimmi jumped up and swatted Wilson right across the nose. Full force. Before she knew it blood was dripping from his nose onto her shirt. Oh gross. What in hell have I done? "Christ, Kimmi," Wilson said with his head back and his hand pinching his nose. You're lethal. You fucking broke my nose."

The other members of the group stood, transfixed, in the moonlight. The tube rushed in, heading away from Philadelphia. Ten more minutes to wait for the tube to the city.

No one knew what to say. Then the tube rushed out of the station and the spell was broken. Angie and Dave and Porter rallied around Kimmi. They didn't want Wilson to try for revenge. They were incensed at Wilson's unwarranted attack. Jade hurried to Wilson's side to try to stop the bleeding and reassure him that Kimmi hadn't ruined his face.

A few minutes later Kimmi walked over to Wilson with open hands. "I'm sorry, Wilson. I didn't mean to hit you. Its not broken, is it?"

"No," Wilson admitted grudgingly.

"It's just.... Kimmi said, "everything today sucks. And my relationship with Alex has nothing to do with my labor status. Not that it's any of your business, anyway," she finished heatedly. "Let's just bury the hatchet for now and have a good time tonight, Okay?"

"Yeah, Okay, I guess. Its not like there's anything I can do about Alex anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, Christ, he's into everything these days, haven't you noticed. He's become like the security driod. He wants to know everything about everyone."

"What? He does? He doesn't do that to me."

"Well maybe he has easier access to you. Does he watch you when you work on the computer? Does he know where your passwords are? I'll bet he knew weeks ago about this lay off."

"Stop it!" Kimmi was furious. And scared to the bone. "Where do you get these ideas? He's just Alex. I've known him most of my life. He's got a good job and he takes it seriously, that's all."

"I'm sure you're right," Wilson said while he massaged the bridge of his nose.

The tube came and the Human Resources gang stepped into the car. It was getting late and there were only three other passengers headed towards Philly. The seats ran sideways along the cars of the tube for maximum efficiency. The rest of the space had hanging handles, almost like the old fashioned kind in New York City. 

Angie decided to organize the group. "I think we should sit boy, girl, boy, girl. There you go. Wilson, Jade, Porter, me, Dave. Kimmi, we forgot you again!"

"That's alright," Kimmi smiled. She was still feeling the effects of the pain killer. The air felt fuzzy, and she was kind of sleepy.

Damn it, I wish I had a camera," Angie pouted.

"Hey, guess what," Kimmi said.

"What?"

"I've got a disposable camera in my purse."

"You lie."

"No. Look." She pulled out a camera and quickly started snapping pictures of the group. Looking through the lense she was surprised by how attractive the group was. "These'll make great photos. Your children will never believe how beautiful you all were in your youth."

The group started mugging for the camera, and getting a little acrobatic with the handles on the tube. Kimmi got a great shot of Porter swinging by one arm and scratching under his other arm. Then they all started playing the romantic roles. Hugging and kissing in various contortions. Everyone was laughing. 

They continued to play with the camera for a while. Just as they were winding down, the tube arrived at the Center City station.

The group piled out of the tube in good spirits. They realized they hadn't a clue where they wanted to go.

"Doesn't anyone know anything about Center City?" Wilson asked as the train rushed out of the station. The station was dimly lit and stank of stale urine and something worse. "What kind of place are we looking for, anyway?"

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm in the mood for, drinking, dancing, and carousing," Jade said. "Let's hit the street and figure out where to go from there. Jeez, it stinks down here, and it's beastly hot."

The group started to shuffle off towards the City Hall exit.

"I'm hungry," Porter said as they rode the escalator up. "Let's find something with a restaurant and a dance floor." 

They reach ground level and exited into a huge mall. It was dark in the mall. The ceiling was midnight blue with multi-colored stars which sparkled and pulsated. There was an iridescent full moon way up high with "Welcome to the City of Brotherly Love" inscribed across the face. There was a giant clothes pin in the middle of an exhibit featuring twenty first century sculpture. And next to the clothes pin was a computerized directory of local enterprises in Center City.

"Hey, this is great," Porter said. "Philly's sure changed since I was here last. Look at this. This thing tells us what's happening, where, when, and how to get there. What do you want to do? Dancing? There's erotic, there's interactive erotic! I vote for that. There's all kinds of dance places listed here. Restaurants? Cheese steak, yuck, South American, Italian, Middle Eastern. Hey, here's one. Dodona. 'The upbeat Ancient Greek setting makes light hearted play central to the party atmosphere. Dance, feast, and fantasize 'til dawn, for a moderate cover charge.' Its only six blocks away and it's inside the dome so we won't have to worry about dark city streets and nasty muggers. What do you say?"

"I don't know," Kimmi said. "It sounds kind of wild."

"I like the idea," said Angie. We need to get wild. Remember? Tonight's our night to howl!

There was a lot of talk back and forth and a couple of other suggestions were made, but Porter's choice won out. Fifteen minutes later Kimmi and her friends linked arms and headed towards Dodona. 

It was surprisingly quiet in the mall for a Friday night, Kimmi thought, as they walked. Maybe Philly was a late night town. It was only 10 O'clock. Some cities don't start hopping until midnight. They did pass a few groups of teenagers on air boards, trying to impress each other. The age-old smell of reefer was in the air, probably coming from the young couple a half a block a head of Kimmi and the group. Retro-rock blasted out of a club here and there. People were partying in the clubs, Kimmi realized, but the streets were empty. Except for the homeless. She didn't really see the little bundles of clothing and the rickety carts that were stashed here and there between a store or on a plasti-bench. She didn't notice the dirty, smelly, ragged people sitting out beyond the glow light's glare. Nor did she notice the vicious looking scavengers who preyed on the weak and the unwary in the darker corners of the dome. None of the group did. They were just a fun bunch of suburbanites caught up in the glitter of flirting and partying and merry making. And they weren't about to think about tomorrow, or their jobs, or anything.

The gang burst into Dodana's just as the evening was getting into swing. The party of six suburbanites was greeted cheerfully by the door man. He took their credits with a smile and ushered them into the faux-Greek playground. The club building was a large globe. There were fake columns on either side of the entrance. Dead center in the building was an immense circular electro-magnetically suspended fiber optic dance floor. Tubular air tunnels blew dancers up and down from the floor. The floor was crowded. Dancers gyrated and jumped and twisted and twirled with frenetic determination to ear blasting retro rock. 




Running on Fumes Pt. 01



On the ground level, the bars encircled the room and were thronged with thirsty revelers. Many-armed bar-droids mixed whatever concoctions were ordered by customers and waiters via voice id and e-mail. Credits were ticked off by state of the art bank coms. It was utter confusion. 

The second level was reserved for the more serious diners. Mega-credits were spent on average cuisine by businessmen and tourists every day of the week. 

The third level was less legitimate. One half of the circle was a private club with erotic dancers, both interactive and non-interactive. The other half of the circle was for sensual pleasure. There were whirlpools and saunas and massage rooms. There was also a very active trade in licensed prostitution. 

Only a few club members had access to the forth level. Expensive pleasure drugs were mixed with marginally legal virtual reality programs for simulated 'rides of your life' or death. Many members came to simulate what was believed to be the feeling of death. There was even a program where you lived a simulated life trying for heaven. Most players lost and experienced the drug and electro induced agony and terror of falling into hell's abyss. Winners were bathed in golden light and dosed with a rare extract of 'Feel Good' and 'Erotica'

The lighting on the ground floor, where Kimmi's group gathered was dim, and changed colors every 90 seconds. Heat and noise emanated from the kitchen which was at the back of the globe

They were given a table near the center of the room where they had a great view of the dance floor. Their backs were to the main entrance.

"This place is way cool" said Jade. I'm going to eat, drink, be merry and, hopefully, get lucky. I gotta go make myself more presentable. Angie, Kimmi, you're with me.

The women shoved their way through the crowd to the ladies rest room. It was messy and smelly, but had what was necessary. 

"Look," Jade said, "there's a machine selling disposable dance dresses. Let's do it up right!"

Kimmi looked at the selections warily. She didn't know what to wear. She wasn't here to pick up a stranger or impress her co-workers.

"I think I'll pass," she said. But then she saw a deep blue spider's silk tango gown. It was strapless, floor length, with a slit up the left leg almost to the hip. "That's fierce" she said in awe. I have to have it."

She clicked her credits and the dress slid out of the machine. It had matching slippers. and wicked gloves. It smelled like a summer night.

"Oh my God. Look at this dress Jade."

"Yeah, cool. But look what I got. This is so hot...." Jade was in another world getting dressed and putting on make up.

Kimmi slid into the dress and felt like another woman. Mysterious. A woman of mist and moonlight. She laughed out loud with pleasure.

"Wow," Angie said. "Look at you. I've never seen you look so fabulous. Let me do your hair and make up."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'll make you into a moon lit seraph."

"You'd need magic to accomplish that, Angie," Kimmi said, laughing

"You never know when or where you will encounter magic. So don't laugh. Just let me do a couple little things with your face.... Hmmm, here, and here. Your eyes. Keep still! You'll mess it up. Yes, a little star dust here and there. Now, your hair... Yes, it has many colors of the moon. I'll just put it into a nice circlet around the back of your head. I'll leave a few tendrils out. Oh, and you can wear my moon stone." Angie took the ring she always wore on her left index finger and slid a thick hunk of hair through it. It dangled down from the top of the circlet. The moonstone, which was as large as a robin's egg glowed in the dim stinky washroom.

"No, Angie, I can't take your ring. You never take it off. Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know. It just feels right. Its okay, you can give it back to me when we leave. And now I must dress myself.

Angie selected a Phoenix costume. It matched her fiery disposition perfectly. She was every shade of fire -- white, blue, green, orange red. The feathers were bejeweled with faux diamonds and rubies which looked like tear drops and blood. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.

Jade was an enchantress in a sharp green body suit. Bewitching, like a lancet of jade. The women looked at each other with new respect. 

"And they say clothes don't make the maiden," Kimmi said in a hushed tone. "Let's go see what our men are up to."

"Them?" Jade said with a laugh. "We're going to knock their ever-loving socks off. They won't know what hit them."

"That's the truth," said Angie.

"Hey you two," Kimmi said, "say cheese," she snapped a picture as they mugged for the camera. She slipped the camera into her purse.

Jade went first into the throng. Time seemed to slow down as they walked. Jade cut through the crowd like a knife. Next came Angie, the bird of fire. Kimmi walked out last, cool as a winter night and glowing with moonbeams. Their walk to the table was slow, sensual. Heads turned. Conversations paused.

Porter, Wilson and Dave had already started the happy process of getting drunk. They had ordered shooters and downed two a piece while gazing almost memorized at the dance floor. They did look kind of frumpy sitting there from the women's perspective. But you take what you can get, Kimmi thought. She pulled out the camera one more time and snapped a picture of the men gazing at the dance floor. And anyway, I shouldn't be thinking of them at all. I have Alex.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Jade said in a velvety voice, "are these seats taken?"

Dave pulled himself away from the dance floor and peered up at Jade. He didn't recognize her. "I'm sorry, I mean, I really am sorry, but we are waiting for some friends," he stammered as he devoured Jade with his eyes.

"Dave, you ass hole, it's me, Jade."

"Oh my God, what did you do to yourself? You look... unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment. May I sit down?"

"Yes, yes, of course." He jumped out of his chair to help Jade into the chair next to him. Then he got a look at the other two women. "Jesus Christ, what planet have I landed on? I want to make this my home! 

Laughing, Angie and Kimmi took the two other vacant seats. Wilson and Porter were still staring at the dancers.

Guys," he said to Wilson and Porter, poking Porter in the ribs, "Look what just landed at our table.

Wilson and Porter turned. Their jaws dropped.

"What in the world?" said Wilson. "We've been working with these women for how long and we missed this potential? Lord have mercy. There's none so blind as will not see. Ladies, you take my breath away."

"Pretty words," Kimmi said. "Would you care to entertain us this evening? I'm getting awful hungry. And what? No drinks? Maybe we came to the wrong table." Kimmi teased.

"Yes" said Angie. "Maybe we should shop around, come up with something a little more, how shall I put this? elegant."

"Oh, no you don't," Wilson said. He grabbed Angie's hand and brought it to his lips. "You came with us, you'll stay with us. He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. "We can be just as elegant as you like. " He let go of her hand and pulled up the electronic drink menu. Now, ladies, what would you like to drink? Crystal champagne? Or something wicked? Tequila? No. Rum. There is a very special rum. If they have it. It's almost like opium."

He scanned the drink list and found what he was looking for. "This will set us back a lot of credits, but hellfire, you only live once, right?"

Porter agreed. Dave looked dubious but pulled out his credit chit. "I'm going to live to regret this, I'm sure. But what the hell. Here's to Krowe Pan-global and the women they didn't know they had. He added his credits to the counter. Eight minutes later a waiter arrived with a black bottle and six glasses.

"A fine choice you've made gentlemen. This bottle has been waiting for you for many years. "He opened it and poured out a small portion into each man's glass. 

"Sexism at its finest," Kimmi quipped. But she was impressed with the way the waiter cradled the bottle. He held it like a sacred vessel. This must be some primo liquor. I wonder how much it cost? No. I don't want to know.

"Madam, if you were paying for the bottle, I would present it to you. I'm not a sexist." He sniffed.

Wilson picked up his glass. Dave and Porter followed suit. They sipped slowly.

"Unbelievable!"

"Superb" said Porter

"Well, it's a cut or so above bathtub gin," Dave quipped.

"What's bathtub gin? Porter asked.

"Poisonous liquor made centuries ago in bathtubs when liquor was illegal."

"Liquor, illegal? How barbaric."

"Didn't you go to high school and learn all that history," Wilson asked.

"No. I was home schooled. We stuck to the essentials, you know, getting up to speed for the labor code."

"You missed a lot of interesting stuff."

"Seems like we ended up in the same boat though, didn't we for all your fancy learning?" Porter pointed out while he poured out glasses of rum for the group.

"You got that right."

Dave intervened. "Okay, to what shall we toast?"

"New horizons," said Angie

"Good times and beautiful women," said Porter

"To Krowe Industries getting what it fucking well deserves," said Wilson

"To lasting friendships," Kimmi offered.

They clicked glasses and drank.

Kimmi was astounded. The rum tasted like nectar from the Gods. It was so smooth drinking it was like a kiss. And potent! Kimmi was already wobbly from the pain killer. After two toasts she was flying. It was time to dance!

Kimmi grabbed Porter, who was likewise feeling no pain, and ushered him to the nearest wind tunnel. They were blown up onto the dance floor and landed in a heap, laughing hilariously. She moved with ease and grace learned from years of modern dance classes. Porter tried, but he couldn't keep up with Kimmi. She swayed and twirled and undulated. Her eyes were closed. She felt the music through to her soul. Almost in a trance, she moved along the floor. The music slowed. It became velvety, sensual. A hand was placed on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up. She was dancing with a stranger. He was, lithe, powerful. He moved like a martial artist. They moved together. The tango dress worked magic. His thighs against her thighs, his breath in her hair. She was in his arms. Their torsos meshed. It was sex on the dance floor. Nothing less than hot, sultry sex. 

Kimmi was fully aroused. She gazed into his obsidian eyes. He pulled her tighter. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"Shh," he said. They danced. It was warm on the dance floor. Blue and red strobe lights were flashing. The music was hot and erotic. Kimmi took measure of the man in her arms. He was tall, with golden skin, and thick black hair matching his almond shaped eyes. He was long and lean and she felt him harden against her thigh. He moved with assurance and purpose. His scent set her pulse wild. She leaned into him. She felt she would follow him to the nearest star if he asked her.

Suddenly the music stopped. There was loud popping and flashes of light, fire, all over the ground floor. The dance floor shivered and shook, and the strobe light burst into flame. The overhead sprinklers came on. All was smoke and confusion. There were screams and cries. A stampede. More fire. "Get down," the man shouted. He pushed her to the floor. He grabbed a table and put it on top of her. "Stay there," he said in a hard, tense voice. "I'm Simon, Simon Delacroix. I'll be back" 

The rest of the dancers were screaming and pushing and shoving, trying to do... what? They didn't know what to do. The down stairs was a war zone. Should they try to help? Go down and get killed? Stay and get killed?

Simon had no time for the dancers. He jumped off the dance floor and headed for the back door. There was a fire hose in a cabinet next to the kitchen. He grabbed it, and started shouting orders to the kitchen workers. "Cut off the gas lines, now!! Get those fire hoses out!!" he shouted as he turned to wield the heavy hose. Water burst out of the nozzle. Simon pulled on the hose and ran back into the bar area. He crouched down and took aim. The fierce blast of water took the primary shooter out. He aimed again and dowsed a couple of other shooters. His night manager jumped in with another hose. The remaining shooters must have figured they'd done their task. They took off running into the night. 

The outside mall's security alarm finally kicked in. Shit. Some help those Keystone Cops will be, Simon thought angrily. How the hell did this happen?

The carnage was unbelievable. The entire event took less than five minutes. Everyone who was on the ground floor was dead or dying. Fire guns had destroyed the entire ground floor. The air was thick with smoke and steam and soot. It looked like a scene from Dante's Inferno. He remembered stories of the September day years ago when Manhattan's Twin Trade Towers were destroyed. That had been the event that set off the first of the upheavals. This is what it must have been like. God. No one could have survived this. How many people? he wondered. Fifty? Seventy five? God. Why? he raged in anguish.

Simon crouched down and put his head in his hands. He wanted to scream out his pain and rage for what had been done. But that would be pointless. Vengeance. Ah yes he wanted vengeance, but even more he wanted justice. And he wanted to ease the pain of the victims. He looked around to see if there was any thing he could do, any way to help. 

Dancers were jumping off the dance floor and running around, crying, looking for friends, associates, trying to help. People started to pour down from the upper levels to see what all the fuss was about and were horrified by what they found. A doctor was setting up a triage, of sorts for the injured. Sirens shrilled and became still as rescue vehicles and police arrived on the scene. Simon felt helpless. There was nothing he could do here.

The girl! he thought suddenly. Is the girl alright? I hope so. There is something about her. Lord but she can dance. And that dress! Her eyes are blue like a summer sky. The emergency teams can handle things down here. I should find her.

Simon wadded through the horror and found his way to the dance floor. The air tubes were off line so he had to pull himself up using brute strength to get over the railing. He flopped down on the floor breathing hard. There were still a few dancers sitting on the floor, too traumatized to jump down into the fray below. And there in the corner, curled in a ball with the table over her head sat Kimmi.

Simon walked over to her and sat down. He put his hand on her arm and she jumped.

"No, its okay, it's over. Do you here me? It's over."

"Simon? Is it really okay? She uncurled and looked into his eyes. The bleakness there frightened and saddened her. "No, I have a feeling its never really going to be okay again. Shit." She started to cry.

"What happened down there?" she asked through her sobs. "All I know is what I saw before you threw me down. And then what I heard, and smelled. Oh dear God, the smell. I'll never get rid of it. I never smelled death before. That's what it is, isn't it?"

"Yes," Simon said gently. "Death. Some shooters burst in with flame guns. I don't know who or why, but I'm going to find out and they will pay."

"Why? You were just a dancer, a customer, right?"

"No. This is my place. My establishment. My responsibility. Christ."

"You're kidding. You own this place?"

"Why so surprised?"

"Well, you dance so well. I didn't think an owner would... but that's ridiculous, of course you should enjoy what you create. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

"Part of the point, anyway. There's also the money."

"Yes, there's the money. But you do, ah, did enjoy this place."

"I greatly enjoyed dancing with you. It was like dancing with moonlight. Who are you anyway?"

"I'm no one, really."

"You have a name."

"Yes. It's Kimmi, Kimmi Riasco."

"How did you happen to come to my club tonight Kimmi Riasco?"

"It's a long, sad story. Oh my God, my friends! Simon, I came here with five friends. Four of them were on the ground floor when it happened. I have to find them. And Porter. I was dancing with him when you took over. At least I think I was. I was pretty out of it. Did you see Porter?

"No. You were dancing alone when I joined you."

"Alone? Oh God, I really was high. I took this pain killer this afternoon. For a migraine. I should never have mixed it with alcohol."

"Well you were lucky to be on the dance floor when the fire bombing started. That high of yours saved your life."

"No. I would have been okay. I would have gotten out. Like they did. They did. I'm sure of it. I've got to go look for them now. Will you help me?" Kimmi said desperately.

"Kimmi, listen to me, Simon said quietly. "They didn't get out. No one did. I was down there. I saw it. It was .... " he shuddered, "Hell. Simply hell. A battle field. I tried to stop it but I wasn't in time. It was a brutal, murderous, meaningless slaughter."

"Oh Christ," Kimmi swore. "This can't be happening. What the hell. Let's go into town and celebrate getting laid off from our jobs they said. They wanted to have a big going away party. Boy what a send-off they got, huh? I should have talked them out of it. I told them that Philly was dangerous, .but did they listen? No. I should have stopped them." Kimmi started to cry again.

"It's not your fault, Kimmi. It just happened."

"But I should have been with them down there, not up on the floor dancing with you. And now I'm alive and they're dead. I should be dead, too. We were in it together."

"Stop it. That's ridiculous. Your friends would be glad to know you survived."

"No they wouldn't. They'd be mad as spit."

"Think about it Kimmi, if you had died and one of them survived would you be mad at them? You wouldn't be, would you?"

"No," Kimmi said with a sigh. "I guess not. You're right. But it still feels so God damn wrong to be sitting here untouched while they're down there... Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick. Is there a bathroom up here? Please?"

"No bathroom. Stay put Kimmi. Put your head between your knees and breathe deeply. I'll be right back."

Simon ran to the far side of the floor where there was a waste unit. He pulled it out of the wall and brought it over to Kimmi.

"Here, lean into this. If you have to let go, let go. It'll do you good." He stood behind her and put one hand on her forehead. He supported her stomach with the other hand. Kimmi took a deep breath, and then it all came up at once. She heaved helplessly into the unit while Simon held her and comforted her. It was over quickly. Kimmi sank down to the floor in a sitting position. Simon sat down beside her.

"Better?"

"Some. Thank you. You missed you calling. You should have been a nurse."

"I'm versatile. Actually, I had a little sister who used to get stomach upsets in the middle of the night. Watching you made me a little home sick."

"Yeah," Kimmi snorted with laughter, "with an emphasis on the sick. Where is home, any way? You have an interesting accent." He had a deep, velvety voice with a hint of Britain and a hint of something exotic which Kimmi couldn't identify.

"Trinidad. I'm glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor." 

"Yeah, this is really funny. Tonight was going to be our last hurrah before reality of unemployment set in. We were going to drink ourselves senseless and then say fuck you to Krowe Pan-global. Well, I guess they won't be looking at the net's job postings in the morning. And I'll be at work, all alone in my cubicle, with my boss, who didn't, by the way, get the axe, telling me to use my leave time to recover during my last two weeks at work. But I won't do that, damn it. I'm going to work every last fucking minute in honor of my gang. At least Krowe will have to pay my salary until the end. I guess Krowe will be paying for their funerals. That was one of the perks of the job. Work 'til you die and Krowe picks up the funeral bill. Thank God they were all still employees tonight. Otherwise their families would have been stuck with the bill.