Lurranus Stories: Empirius (Part 2)

The room was completely white. The four walls, floor and ceiling that enclosed him were all that singular colour. It was unclear if one of them masked a hidden plane of one sided glass, nor was it clear where any sound recording or CCTV equipment was. Nor was it clear where the voice came from.
“What do you want out of this?” The hidden woman demanded.
“I want to help, I guess.” Craig replied.
The voice seemed mocking, riddled with unhidden scorn. “You want... to help?”
“Yeah. I mean, we, as a species are all we have, as far as we know. I mean, presumably there’s other life forms out there somewhere... but, um, I just think we’d be better off helping each other. Fighting and pissing away...” Craig winced at his language slip up. “Sorry, um, wasting our resources isn’t going to help anyone. And I thought I could do some good here, at...”
“You are aware of this company's history?” The women inquired bluntly. “Yet you still want to work here.”
“I was in Edinburgh, in ‘68. Plus, I‘ve seen... what goes on each day” He sighed. Despite what Ryan may think, he joked to himself. “None of us are perfect. But we define ourselves and others by the bad things we did in our past, we’ll never get anywhere. You have the resources. I have the ideas and the will to see them through. I think we can help each other.”
“And why are you a worthy candidate? Why should we consider you?”
“I have a... degree in Chemistry.”
“A degree in Chemistry. Wow. Of all the 12 billion people alive... what a rarity.” The tone was aggravating, condescending, and dismissive, but Craig held his tongue. Surely, they were trying to get to the bottom of him. See what made him tick. He took a breath.
“Like I said, I have the will. I want to help. I just... I want to be the example I never had. Because I was a shitty little guy - sorry, sorry, sorry, badly behaved, poorly motivated guy - with nothing, and I want to set an example for other orphaned, lonely kids, that there are good people out there, who care about them. I think, with a population with this out of control, and the subsequent number of kids in that situation, it’s something they need.” He paused. There were a few moments of silence, which Craig felt obligated to stop. “Plus, there’s this wonderful thing I have very little of, called money, so... yeah. That’s something.” He chuckled briefly at his joke, before stopping and wondering if that was a poor move.
The interviewer paused. “Okay. Thank you for your time. We’ll get back to you soon.”

Craig silently slid out the front gate. He had ordered a taxi, but had been informed of a slightly longer waiting time, due to the nature of the complex’s location. As he walked out, one of the protesters from earlier came up to him.
“Empirius wanker.” He hissed.
Craig panicked, but forced a smile. “I’m not with them.” He stated. “Those... wankers.”
“Yeah?”
He faked a devious grin. “Yeah. I just snuck in, under the guise of having an interview, and, well, let me just say, their computer systems gonna be fucked for the next week.”
The man’s demeanour changed, and he gripped Craig’s shoulder as though he were an old friend. “Nice fucking work, bud.”
He smiled. “Cheers, serves those... wankers, er, right. But I gotta get out of here.”
He stepped back. “Oh, sure.”
“Maybe I’ll be back next week, do some more damage.” He smirked over his shoulder, to the man’s amusement, before turning back around and breathing out heavily. That had been a close call, and he wasn’t even working for the company. He could only imagine what it would be like if he was.

“Mr Donnely, this way please.” Tom said.
“Please, call me Craig.” Craig replied.
“Well, Craig... follow me.”
It had been an apprehensive week of waiting for Craig, and that anxiety had been doubled during a half an hour wait in the sparse Empirius lobby. It was a grand, light brown room, enlivened only by the odd patrol officer and the gentle but stirring music that accompanied a video playing on the wall, which seemed to be presenting Empirius as much more beloved than they truly were, with stereotypical images of children looking at the grand white and red buildings in awe. It had all been too much, until Tom had arrived.
“Have I got it?” Craig asked, a little too eagerly.
“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “But they’ve actually agreed to see you, so my guess is yes... or at least don’t rule it out. If you’re here, it’s for a reason. Unless they disliked you enough, they wanted to decline you in person.”
Craig looked up in a panic, but Tom smiled down at him, and Craig relaxed slightly, realising it was a joke. He tried to laugh but smiled weakly instead. He got up and followed Tom to the elevator, located just under the video, which seemed to be starting over again for what seemed to be the fiftieth time. Surely, it had to drive the receptionist mad, Craig thought.
“So stirring.” Tom remarked, pressing the button for the eighth floor.
“What?” Craig stammered. What was stirring. The video? What else could it be? “Yeah. It’s very well made.”
“What’s that, it’s a bunch of fabricated bullshit?” Tom joked, as the lift started moving. “But kudos to the production team, it is very well made. And hopefully, one day, it won’t seem so fictitious.”
“Hopefully.” Craig said, smiling weakly.
The lift came to a graceful stop. Craig barely felt a thing, and was shocked to see the doors suddenly, and quiet silently, open. He stepped out.
Tom took the lead and guided him along several corners, past closed offices, black and white paintings, and pale white walls, before stopping before a murky glass door. Behind it where three still figures. It was unclear who they were, but their calm, unmoving demeanour, and the hazy form Craig saw on his side of the door, gave off an air of unflinching, brutal authority.
Tom stood back, and pointed at the door, which had no handle.
“Just double tap when you’re ready.” He smirked. “Good luck.” And with that he was gone.
Without waiting a second, Craig opened the door.
The three figures sat along an extended desk. Two were women, one was a man. The women in the middle seemed very attentive, and had a cold look in her eyes. She had a pointed face and short black hair. The blonde woman to her left hand side momentarily gazed up at Craig, but was now looking back down at her hands. The man to her right, a ginger fellow with a black suit and a loose tie, raised a friendly eyebrow at Craig, and casually leant back. There was a smaller desk in front of them, like one a naughty school child would be put in. It was clear that was where he would sit. As he went to do as such, he glimpsed the door again. It had since closed, but what was shocking to him was that, from this side, it was crystal clear what was happening on the other side. They had seen exactly how he had looked on his way in.
“Mr Donnely.” The middle woman began. “I am Karen Russell. These are my associates Darren Hale, and Beth Hale.”
“Pleasure to meet you all, I’m Craig Donnely... sorry, you know who I am. Obviously.” Craig stopped, then winced at his choice of words, and continued. “Not that you should, just because you’d obviously know the name of someone who was trying out for a job here.” He sighed inwardly. “Sorry.”
“We’ve seen worse.” Beth shrugged.
“So... did I get the job?” Craig asked.
“Nu uh uh.” Darren said, shaking his finger. “We ask the questions.”
Karen looked at Darren with some annoyance. “So, Craig, tell me...” Karen began. “Are you into renewable energy?”
“I am. I worked on some chemical compound a while back. We only had a small budget, and the initial idea later turned out to have some negative long term health effects, so it was scrapped, at least in large doses, but it was still a worthwhile experience, I guess.” Craig relaxed a little. His conversation skills and choice of words was often questionable, but he was generally able to keep his composure when he talked about his work.
“And you did some work in artificial food?”
“Yeah. It was some compact bar, a chemical one. It was meant to be more nutritious. It worked, but it tasted pretty dodgy, so it didn’t sell that great.”
“And is that it?”
“Those are all the jobs I’ve done so far. I mean, I worked at Sainsbury’s when I was studying and I volunteered...”
“We can see that.” Beth pipped up bluntly, holding up a sheet of paper in front of her before slumping back down. Craig turned red.
“Again, sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.” Beth sighed.
“Oh, yeah, sure, sor...”
Craig stopped, and winced at his stuttering. The three looked at each, and nodded
“So...” Darren began. “Are you ready for the biggest job offer you’ll ever have?” He gave Craig a reassured smile. Craig relaxed a little.
Darren moved to speak again, but Karen shushed him. “The offer is, we have a few sustainable projects in the works, and we’d like your help.”
Craig smiled. “Nice. I mean, I’m in.”
“It’s gonna be intense, you know that. The workload. Plus, people generally have rather negative attitudes towards this company.”
Craig shrugged again, and smiled. This was his chance. The one he had been waiting years for.
“I’m in.”

2087

“Faggot!” Someone screamed. Craig didn’t know who.
He felt himself shoved over. For a second his vision was consumed by gravel, before he rolled back over and was blinded by sunlight. A cry of approval went out. The man responsible, the same man Craig met on the day of his interview, grinned at Craig, before his face suddenly contorted into unspeakable pain. Flashes of electric light appeared around his legs and he crumbled to the ground. Craig remembered the same device being used in Edinburgh in 2068, the only difference being this version appeared to be intended for one person, as opposed to crowd control. The masses backed up, as Tom walked out from the other side on the gate, and went towards Craig. A robot was flanking him, and raised its weapon, cautioning the onlookers it was ready to provide cover fire while Tom helped Craig.
“Peacekeeper my arse!” Someone screamed, as the group slowly backed off. Tom didn’t reply to calm or aggravate the speaker, instead just looking annoyed at his endless daily abuse.
“Cheers.” Craig mumbled, slightly teary, as he was lifted to his feet.
Tom smiled. “No worries.”
Letting go of Craig, the two started walking forward. Looking ahead, there was no sign of Euan Kevil. In the last four months, he had all but disappeared: evidently he had found someone else to pester.
“So... today’s the day, isn’t it?” Tom asked. Craig nodded weakly.
“It’s it ready?”
Craig spoke slowly. “It’s coming along. Not perfect, but it’s looking good.”
“Hopefully Karen likes it.” Tom said, before trying to reassure Craig its a more positive slant. “I’m sure she will.”
“Hopefully, yeah.” Craig mumbled.

“So, what is the Cube, exactly?” Karen asked.
“It’s a type of food.”
“This is a weapon’s company, we don’t make Twinkies.”
Craig grimaced for a second at the comment, but continued. “Well, yeah, of course, but it’s like the sustainable power stations in a way. It’s the same idea. With them, they take in all the sunlight and wind and rubbish, and make it into power. I view this as something that would go nicely hand in hand with it. It’s compact, but it’s got about two weeks worth of energy. It’s fairly cheap to make and to afford, it’s very useful, it actually tastes good - unlike some of my older work - and it’s something that would really help people. Like the... power stations...”
Karen shrugged. “Well, the power stations were a success, and it sounds like a good idea. Keep at it.” She paused, and offered a small smile. “Good job.”
Craig politely nodded, but broke into an ecstatic smile after Karen turned around, feeling extremely validated for one of the first times in his life.

Euan Kevil seemed to be clinically incapable of shutting up.
“So I’m working at Empirius - I’ve been there a good while - and I find out about this weapons subdivision Keskal, and I bring it to Damien’s attention. And, he completely fucking screws me - not only does he claim he discovered it, but he does Keskal right up the arse. He takes all their designs, and leaves them with nothing but a fucking vending machine.” Euan paused, and pointed at himself as thought he were a biblical saviour figure. “Now, me, I try and object to this, but that man...” Euan paused against, changing tone, to both saddened and angered. “That monster, he says he’ll have my mum cut up and bundled in a car boot, and that he’ll make sure my brother can never work again.”
One of his friends, Curt, shook his head. “Fucking savage.”
“And then there’s that whole mess with Empirius in ‘68 - you know, the riots in Edinburgh - and he uses me as a scapegoat.”
Next to Euan was a small boy no older than twelve. “That’s fucking sick.” He said, swearing with as much vigour as possible so as to seem cool to the adults he mistaken idolised.
Ryan sighed, looking up from his work. Every day, he thought. Every day on this construction sight with this fucking guy. No wonder these new flats were taking so long to be constructed. Not only was there no real plan - just improvise until something works - but they had the pleasure of Euan’s company, and his very lenient attitude towards his work hours. The man opposite, Allen, looked up, and Ryan gestured to Euan with his eyes. Allen shrugged knowingly, but the two looked down silently and resumed their work.
The fourth man, a tall, lanky fellow who rounded out Euan’s entourage, spoke.
“Huh. I know a guy, Ian, who’s with Keskal. You know how Keskal’s doing security on the site?” Euan didn’t respond. The man took that silence as a point about how obvious that point was. “Well, yeah, of course, only job they could do. Well, if I put you two together, and you tell him that, maybe you’ll get a job.”
“Oh.” Euan’s mouth dropped. He seemed disappointed. “I thought you were Ian.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Ryan sighed under his breath. Euan perked up.
“What was that?” He spun around, Curt just behind him. Euan seemed flabbergasted to hear a voice that wasn’t his own.
Ryan gulped in from a second, but sighed and gave into his anger. “A scapegoat... Fucks sake mate, you were leading an armed team on the ground. I was in a bar with families when that happened, I reckon you were one of the bastards who gave the order to fire.” He paused and glowered at Euan.
Allen looked up apprehensively, shocked at Ryan’s bold move. Curt looked annoyed to see his friend insulted, but Euan smiled as if to say “Yeah, I did... what are you going to do?”.
“You want to know what I’ve got for you?” Ryan smirked, reaching into his pocket. After a moment of theatrically reaching around, he pulled his hand back up, holding up a middle finger. “There it is.” He respected the move, flipping him off with his other hand too, laughing at Euan, whose mouth dropped in shock. “I swear, I keep fucking finding these things in here.” He giggled.
A kid nearby, no older than fifteen, smirked. Further off, a few others who despised Euan, laughed at Ryan’s little performance. Ryan smiled back.
“Little shit!” Euan hissed, suddenly launching himself at Ryan. Ryan easily sidestepped Euan, who crashed pathetically into the floor. Ryan laughed again, as did the spectators. Getting caught up in it all, Ryan took a little bow. “For your consideration,” he began, gesturing at Euan, “the next boss of Empi-“
Ryan suddenly found himself falling forward. He registered a pain in his back.
“Fuck you!” Curt yelled. Ryan’s face hit the floor, and no more than a second later, Curt came at him with a mighty kick. Ryan scurried forward, as Curt easily pushed aside Allen as he ran to Ryan’s defence, and started coming towards Ryan. Ryan stood up and raised his fists. He swung his right fist at Curt, but missed, and left himself exposed to an attack to the right of his chest. He fell to the ground. Curt kicked him in the chest. Ryan's body withered in pure anger, but the blows prevented him from doing anything. Curt suddenly stopped, and walked away.
As Ryan’s vision returned, he lay for a few moments, confused, upset, angry. He eventually tried to move, and after a moment of his body protesting, it gave in.
It was as he pulled himself to his knees, he heard the sound of an active drill, and an ugly, pained, desperate scream. He looked up to see Allen’s pleading eyes. Curt stood above him, slowly guiding a drill end through Allen’s hand. Curt smiled deviously, and slammed Allen’s head into a nearby table when he tried to resist. Pure adrenaline took over Ryan’s body, but as he began charging forward, a sledge hammer wiped through his legs, and sent him flying face down into a corner.