Lurranus Stories: Empirius (Part 3)

The screaming continued. Ryan twisted himself around and looked up, into Euan’s eyes. The man flashed him a terrifying grin, and spat into his face, leaning down to rub it in. He avoided eye contact, as if Ryan wasn’t deserving of such a thing. He signalled at Curt to stop, and the drilling promptly can to a rest. Euan stood up, dropped the hammer on Ryan’s leg, and walked away. Ryan bit his tongue in an effort to avoid giving the man any satisfaction of hearing him cry.
“I’ll be back for the check.” Curt laughed at a pale faced Allen, as he rejoined Euan, and the two sat down in the centre of the room.

Ryan’s bruises weren’t visible. Most of them were on his chest. There was a light bit of purple on his face, but perhaps he had just fallen over. His face spoke volumes that not all was well, but somehow it seemed Craig had missed this, instead wittering on about his own successes.
“They love it. It’s going great. It’s gonna be a success. Hopeful it can help their image, and people can ease up, Empirius can relax their measures, they can fund more similar things, and we can...” Craig stopped, smiling. “We can make a genuine difference. I’m… I’m finally making a difference.” He finished.
“Still, those protestors outside are a right pain! It’s not that I don’t understand their point of view, but in the name of progress... One of them pushed me over this morning.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow at the floor, before taking another swing of beer. He considered a sarcastic remark, or a comment on how he probably would have done the same. Part of him considered how Craig had a point. Another part of him thought about ranting to Craig about his problems, and how Empirius was no help to most people. Instead, he just bit his tongue, and let Craig continue.

2088:

Craig gave out his hand. Damian shook it.
He knew Damian had likely overseen some of the company's more controversial efforts, but in person, the man had a gentle nature and a good deal of humility.
“So...” he turned to face Karen.
“This is him. Yup.”
“So... you were a young, not well off kid, and purely on your will power managed to get here, and make a difference.” Craig nodded.
“And you want to inspire others to do the same?”
“Yeah.”
Damian looked at Karen. “It’s a PR dream come true.”
Karen nodded. “I know.”
“And we currently need it. It’s only been early trials, but the Cube has been a huge success. We keep distribution up, and we get this narrative out, maybe we become a proper success story.”
“Yeah. And if Keskal keeps up their dubious methods wherever they can actually find work, it will put us in an even better light.”
Damien nodded. “You’ve got potential kid. This is bloody great work.”
Craig nodded. The praise and validation was making him blush. “Thank you Mr Donnely.”
The old man waved his hand. “Please, Damian.” Craig smiled again. He felt like a small-timer criminal being welcomed with open arms into a massive crime family by it’s scary and morally dubious, yet ultimately charming, boss. “In fact...” Damian scrawled down a number. “You got an idea, don’t bother with any of this nonsense, with running it through twenty middle men before it gets off the ground. Just give me a call, and I’ll give you the funding. Even if the next thing goes wrong, that’s this business - maybe, the thing after that may well go perfectly. Plus, fifty years between major successes - if I only have to wait a few months or years at most, it’s a small setback for this company.”
“Thank you.”
Craig smiled, before turning on his heel.
“Actually, Craig...”
Craig stopped, quickly turning around.
“We’ve organised a little party later. Myself, Karen, some business partners, some friends.” Craig looked on confused. “I’d like you to be there.”
Craig paused, confused. “I’m sorry?”
“Today, at nine. Karen will give you the rest of the details. As one of the family... well, shouldn’t you get to know your brethren?”
“I should be able to, yeah. Unless anything comes up, of course...”
“I’ll see you there.” Damien interrupted, his intent clear.
Craig gulped, then nodded curtly. “Right you will.” He replied stiffly.
Damien smiled. “Good. Make sure you have your best suit.”

“Right.” Ryan responded bitterly, sitting down after another hard day while Craig looked down expectantly. “Do you even have a suit?” He laughed.
“I’ve got the one I wore for my interview.”
“That’s my suit.”
“Can’t I just wear that?”
“Don’t you have your own?”
“No.”
“Sure. Fine. Wear that one then.”
“Cheers.” Craig smiled, but Ryan did return the gesture. In an effort to get Ryan to speak to him in a more positive manner, he turned to a subject that usually always made him smile.
“Hey, how’s Jack?”
Ryan was silent for an unnatural amount of time. See Craig’s insistent gaze, he shrugged. “He’s fine.”
Craig sighed, and sat down. He looked his friend right in his eyes.
“And how are you?”
Ryan looked at the floor, and tapped the table slowly. “Fine.”
They both sat still for a while. Both knew something was wrong, but neither dared to say anything.
“You better get ready.” Ryan eventually said. Craig stood up silently. Ryan opened up the fridge, and helped himself to the first beer he found.

Craig had never been to a party. The closest had been a modest gathering where he tagged along with Jack and was introduced to some of his good friends. All he remembered was he came up with some excuse to leave after about two hours.
So far, tonight hadn’t been a lot better. After putting on Ryan’s all black suit with the red tie and being picked up an unmanned, automatic, white Empirius company car (complete with his first drink of the night, a 50 year old scotch he briefly sipped) to the amusement and judgement of several of his neighbours, he had endured several drunk locals spitting on the car. One even tried to take a piss on the vehicle, but an automatic system had addressed the individual by name, and listed some personal details that made him rethink his actions. Nonetheless, ten minutes later, Craig had arrived.
The party was taking place in a fancy neon bar at the bottom of a massive building. It was the kind of bar that was supposedly popular during the 2040’s, supposedly the best days of human existence, but thanks to regular maintenance, had yet to decay. Dizzy pinking lights moved along the walls. A vacant DJ kit had been moved to the side of a small stage, and the nights entertainment had instead been left to a three man jazz band. The bar was off to the left of the room, and was signified by a contrasting green rectangular light. A modest twenty people milled about on a floor capable of holding twenty times that, but Craig spotted Damien on an elevated deck. The two make eye contact, and the older man beckon Craig up to the lounge.
Damien and Karen sat with four others on a C shaped sofa, but rose to greet Craig as he came up the stairs.
“Craig, my boy.” Damien began. “You know Karen. Meet Richard Closer, Emily Watts, Justin Moore and Kyle Raymond’s.” Craig could see anyone very well, but awkwardly extended his hand to each one in turn.
“Oi!” Damien shouted down from the deck. “Seven shots! The usual stuff.”
The others sat down. Craig went to pull up a chair, but Damien ushered him into the middle of the sofa. Craig shuffled in, and after awkwardly smiling to both sides, crossed both his legs and looked down at his feet, not sure what to do. He started thinking back to the last time. He was already feeling out of his element. He figured he could excuse himself to the toilet twice before it started to be weird, and already felt like using one of those chances to get away from everyone.
Damien quickly brought up the subject of Craig’s work, and its potential for the world but, more importantly, the company. As the evening progressed, it became clear Craig was there as a tool for the company's benefit. A poster boy, there to be shown off. Still, Craig didn’t mind it. He actually enjoyed it quite a lot, the admiration, the looks. Craig mostly looked on and smiled, letting Damian big him up, only speaking when he was asked. He relaxed when talking about his work, but still found it a little more difficult when the others asked about his life, and struggled to respond to more jovial comments. Still, Damien was always ready to step in whenever Craig seemed uncertain.
It was only after an hour when the conversation revealed that Kyle and Emily represented two of the company’s shareholders. Craig didn’t feel completely comfortable with the way he was being used, but just sucked it up and tried his best to paint everything about Empirius in a positive light. He recognised that without their approval, his work could well wither and die, but knew by assuming their funding, the companies more dubious operations would likely continue.
By eleven, Kyle and Emily had gotten up, thanked Damien, stated their renewed faith in the company’s work, and left. At this point, the evening took on a more relaxed, social stance. Richard introduced himself to Craig, and the two struck up a conversation about their respective work: Richard was one of the designers of the company's robots, and seemed of a similar character to Craig. Despite Damien ensuring the group kept up their alcohol consumption, a substance Craig didn’t enjoy, Craig found himself relaxing slightly. He even downed his third drink with minimal resistance, coming to the worrying realisation about halfway through that he didn’t actually hate it. Not wanting to be left with the others, who all seemed quite different characters to himself and Richard, chose to take his leave at the same time Richard did, hitching a ride back with him in one of the automatic company cars. Richard was the first to get dropped off, with Craig traveling the remainder of the journey alone.

Craig walked into a darkened apartment.
“Ryan?” He called out. “You here?”
“Yeah.” Ryan’s voice emerged from the darkness. “I’m here.”
He soaked into the kitchen, we’re Ryan sat with several empty bottles before him. “How are you?” He asked sheepishly
“Well, the funny thing is Craig, I’m shit.” He stated in a hostile tone. “I’m tired, I work a shit job, with a bunch of wankers and then I come home to listen to your pretentious shit.”
“I...” Craig began weakly, “I thought Euan Kevil didn’t work there anymore.” Ryan looked up at him with piercing eyes. “I thought you said he left work there, went to work as an Oaktrus enforcer.”
“Yes...” Ryan hissed. “And remind me where Keskal Enfocers are usually found?”
Craig wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question. Feebly, he began speaking: “Am I meant to -“
“In the fucking flats, the same fucking place I fucking work!” Ryan interrupted, screaming. “You fucking prick!”
“The excessive swearing somewhat detracts from your point...” Craig stated in a monotone voice.
“Fuck of!” Ryan hissed back. Craig shut up. “While these people give me hell each day, you’re of coming up with wasting the public’s money on your soul searching, vanity, I-want-people-people-to notice-my-sad-arse quest, and going to parties with the one percenters, instead of telling them to help the average person.”
Craig laughed. “Ryan, these inventions will help the public, and the parties are a ploy to get the investors drunk and keep them onboard. Yes, I feel a little bit like a pimp, but it’s what I have to do! Don’t you understand?”
“What I understand is what happens to me everyday, to the other people, to the people dropping dead because the food that should be theirs is at a party, sitting on a plate your new friends won’t even touch. I reckon you don’t give a shit about anyone else. Remember when I though Jack had died in ‘68 - because of Empirius, no less -“
“Because of Euan Kevil.” Craig interrupted.
Ryan shook his head aggressively. “No, not just him, you’re new friend Damian too... Remember how that happened, how he could’ve been dead, and you didn’t even care? You just used it as a chance to be all petty about how no one cared about you... you remember that?”
Craig was quite hurt by that comment. “That was a long time ago.”
“You just want to have your ego stoked. You know you’re smart, now you get the satisfaction of other people saying it right to your face. The rest of us be damned.”
“Is that why I take all the abuse I get everyday, because I don’t care about other people?” Despite trying to control his anger, Craig gave into a sudden burst of pure anger. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck me!” Ryan yelled, swiping out with his arm, and sending numerous bottles hurtling off the table. They each landed with a large smash. “Fuck you, you self-centred, attention-crazed prick!”
The two looked at each other. Tears threatened to overwhelm Craig. Eventually, Craig went to bed, and Ryan went out for more drinks. Neither spoke again for some time.

2089:

It had been eleventh months since Ryan had left, only a night after their row. Craig had since taken to lodging with Richard on the Empirius complex. It was useful: less time spent driving in, less abuse from any locals, and he felt much more refreshed when it came to doing his work. But he missed his good friend. He hadn’t heard so much a peep from him in six months, but still tried to reach out on a regular basis. He still stood by what he had said, but realised the manner he had addressed Ryan in had not been a particularly wise way to handle the situation.
“Hey Ryan, it’s Craig. Hope you’re well in Edinburgh. I know there’s some good jobs working on the construction of some new robots. I could easily ask around, if you wanted me to.” He paused, and breathed in deeply. “Oh course, the jobs with Empirius. Just, um... get back to me when you get this, tell me what you think... and how you are, of course. And tell me if you hear from Jack too. Last I heard, he’d met a girl or something.” He briefly smiled at the thought. “Anyway... call me back any time. Except work ho... Or during work hours, I guess, if that’s when you can.” He sighed. “Bye. End message.”

Damien looked at Karen.
“I don’t think it’s worth it.”
“Neither do I.” She nodded in agreement.
Damien turning to look at Craig. “This kid, he’s onto something. The Cube, it’s a massive success. He could potentially save the whole human race.” He laughed. “These new flats... I don’t want to expend our resources looking after them, because I know we’ll stretch them desperately thin, and we won’t achieve anything.”
The two were addressing several of the new flats that had been constructed - the same ones people like Ryan had worked on (Craig didn’t know what Ryan did now). Well, the media said “new”. What had really happened was that, with the population still rising, various governments had decided that the space between buildings was a waste and that these buildings should be joined together to maximise the useful space. Nonetheless, construction of several of them had finally been finished, and after Oaktrus had been supervising the construction, the public had asked Empirius take over security. It was as though they were asking them not because they wanted them, but because they wanted to see if they would rise to the challenge. Plus, if they didn’t take over, Oaktrus would continue to supervise the sites, and it had become clear to many that Keskal were a very corrupt organisation, which only Empirius had the power to stop.
This announcement had occurred in the middle of a netting between Craig, Karen and Damian to discuss a new idea of Craig’s. Craig knew he should be in this discussion, but felt compelled to speak.
“I think we should help. Those are good people who will suffer.”
Damian looked slightly annoyed Craig had spoken about the issue, but replied in an even tone. “We are suffering from overpopulation and a lack of most things we need to survive. Those people will suffer regardless, I’m afraid. Your work might actually make a difference to their survival. Corrupt law enforcement or not, there’s not much hope for them otherwise.”
Craig paused, in thought. “There is always the middle ground.” He suggested.
“Help a bit, even for the publicity.” He hoped the mention of publicity would help sway Damian’s mind.
“We’ve got you. That’s all the publicity we need.” Damien declared. “So forget about those people. And maybe don’t mention that again.” The lasts sentence had been noticeably blunter than the others. Craig could tell if perhaps the issue also upset Damian, or if he was just annoyed. But the intend was clear, so Craig nodded, and the talk about his new work resumed.