The Lightcap (12 page)

Finally, after five minutes of anxious silence that felt like hours, the door and frame parted to reveal Sera Velim.  Her demeanor was unchanged from the previous morning, even as her eyes scanned the room with no acknowledgement of their missing colleague.  She began her usual morning routine, giving updated figures on company earnings and market reports.  Aria Hines raised her hand, but Velim did not notice it for several minutes as she read aloud.  When she finished reading, she looked up but did not respond to the silent request.

Aria took Velim’s lack of response as approval to speak.  She stood and asked, “Where’s Damen?”

Adam saw a look on Velim’s face that could melt paint, replaced in a split second with a consoling smile, as if she were a mother about to tell her children their family couldn’t afford any holiday presents that year.  She said, “Oh, he didn’t tell you?  He mentioned he was going to send you all a message.  He accepted a position with a company in the Cascadia Region, effective immediately.  He didn’t inform us until after his shift yesterday, though he did offer to give a proper notice.  After consulting with legal, we declined and parted ways amicably.  We were sorry to see him go, but we understood his motivation, given the lucrative offer he received.”  A plausible but unlikely story, Adam felt.  Velim’s nails ricocheted off the glass table,
tinktinktink
, which made him wonder if she was agitated or just annoyed.  After she finished speaking, her eyes took on a glazed look for a moment, most likely while issuing a silent command to her dome.

Aria fell back into her seat with a sullen look and an almost imperceptible sigh.  Adam, along with everyone else in the room, knew Velim hadn’t been completely honest.  They also knew she wouldn’t offer any more information.  Velim continued with her recap of recent Adaptech performance, then asked them to put on their Lightcaps and begin their day.

Adam experienced a moment of hesitation as he put on the cool plastic device, its three enveloping arms resting casually at points along the back and top of his head.  He wondered what would happen if he refused to wear it, then shuddered at a vision of himself as a poor beggar.  Adam decided the transgression would not be worth its potential penalty.  As he pressed the arms down, he felt them expand, two around the sides, ending just under his ears.  The third arm slipped slightly past his hairline onto his forehead.  He felt the arms click, making a sound which he had heard hundreds of times, and once again fell into the familiar ball of light.

Everything was blue.  The whole world had taken on the hue of the sky, viewed through a fisheye lens.  For one heart-stopping moment, Adam was sure he had been thrown from an airplane in the upper atmosphere, as he perceived reality rushing toward him like a fastball thrown by a vindictive pitcher.  It dawned on him at the last second, as impact seemed inevitable, that he had just removed his Lightcap.  Adam snapped back to the room, like a rubber band pulled tight and then released, and looked up to see a screen displaying the image of LaMont where Velim usually sat.  He noticed Damen’s chair was still empty.  Concerned looks on the faces of those who remained told him Velim’s suspicious story was still in their minds.  Though she had met with them over eight hours earlier, it felt as if she had been with them mere minutes before.  As if summoned by their return, the screen brightness increased and LaMont’s mouth began to move.

“Ladies, gentleman,” he intoned with all the trustworthiness of a snake-oil salesman, “I understand there were some questions about the sudden exit of Mister Theda this morning.  I thought it prudent to be here when you, uh, came back to us, to answer any questions or address any concerns you may have.”

Never before had Adam been able to hear the heartbeat of another person, but he was fairly certain he could hear seventeen other hearts as they raced, his own leading the charge.  No one dared speak.  It seemed several people had even stopped breathing for fear their exhalations might draw attention.  Many fidgeted or averted their eyes, not wanting to be drafted to ask a question or be addressed in any way.  LaMont had that effect on people even before he had been named Executive of Commerce, third in command of the entire Region.  Adam figured he himself was the one with the least to lose by speaking, since he had worked for Adaptech the longest, and he also knew it would be difficult though not impossible to replace him.

Adam stood and addressed the two-dimensional video feed of LaMont, framed in the thin black plastic line surrounding the screen.  “Mister LaMont, we do appreciate you taking the time to address our concerns.  While I can only speak for myself, not the rest of my team, it seems out of character for Damen to leave so abruptly.  I can understand why he may not have the time to send a personal farewell to each person, but it troubles me no one found it necessary to notify me in advance of someone in my group abruptly leaving.  Also, Doctor Velim seemed quite content to ignore Damen’s empty chair until one of my employees asked her about it.  Why is that?”  Adam didn’t want to call Aria out, even though LaMont probably already knew who it was.

Adam had found unexpected boldness, his statements delivered with a steady voice and confident gaze at LaMont’s face.  The executive, however, seemed unaffected, his smile frozen in place as Adam finished his question.  LaMont regarded Adam for several long seconds, silent, which caused several in the room to stir uneasily.  An unexpected laugh from LaMont, deep and genuine, broke the tension.  They could only see him from mid-tie up, but Adam imagined LaMont’s hands were clutched against his belly.  As the laughter subsided, he wiped an eye and said, “You geeks always put so much thought into everything.  Damen Theda was a great employee for the time he was with us.  But he’s also a young man: rash, spontaneous, thinks he knows everything.  No doubt he’s romanticized his new job and location.  It’s not as if he’s the first young man in his twenties to make a spur-of-the-moment decision.  It was as much of a surprise to us as it was to all of you.  Now, regarding the way Doctor Velim handled it, I accept some responsibility for that.  I set her agenda, and she is beholden to it.  I should have told her to add in something about his departure.  I can assure you such an oversight won’t happen again.”

Several faces in the room had adopted LaMont’s amused demeanor, infected with his laughter and confident explanations.  Adam did his best to appear satisfied, but he wasn’t as convinced.  He had always viewed LaMont as the sort who would shake with one hand while reaching around with the other to stab in the back.  Duplicitous.  Even as people like LaMont were held up as role models in society—and Adam did envy him in certain ways—he knew there were no significant amounts of decency or honesty within him, that there was only acute self-interest.  The belly laugh had marked the first time Adam could recall seeing anything from LaMont approaching a genuine sentiment. 

LaMont surveyed the room from the limited angle of his video feed, seemed content his answers were well received, and went on, “I know it’s painful to have someone suddenly depart, even now that you understand what actually happened and why Damen chose to leave without saying goodbye.  In times like these, it’s important to maintain team unity and morale.  To that end, we’ve rented out Glass for the evening.  Dinner and drinks are on me.  Just don’t get too wild.”  This last line was delivered with a comical wink, prompting nervous chuckles from around the table.  LaMont finished with, “Go on and head over there.  When you get to the bar, just tell them Roman sent you.  They’re expecting you.  Adam, please stay behind.  I’d like to speak with you.”

As the room emptied, stray glances shot in Adam’s direction.  The mood had been improved by Roman’s information about Damen’s departure, even more so by his offer of food and spirits.  In all the time Adam had worked at Adaptech, he could not recall a single meal or drink given even at a discount, let alone freely.  LaMont was known throughout Adaptech for his frugality, so it struck Adam as not only noteworthy but of singular significance.  Why would LaMont behave so strangely?

The room quieted as the group left, until the door shut behind the last person, audible even to LaMont over the video feed.  He asked for confirmation: “Are they gone?” 

When Adam nodded affirmatively, LaMont’s eyes narrowed and he continued, “Doctor Velim has said nothing but good things about you, that you are beyond any expectation of competency and resourcefulness, and that you are among the top fifty minds in your field.  I only say this because I want you to understand that if you were anyone else, you’d have been out on your ass after that little stunt you pulled.  I want to be very clear.  If you ever treat me that way again you’re done.” 

Adam’s eyes lit up with shock and his mouth started to open in reply.

LaMont continued: “Stop.  Don’t speak.  Again, it’s important this sinks in.  I am not speaking in metaphors or hyperbole.  If you disrespect me in front of anyone that way again, I will personally come down there and terminate you myself.  Do you understand?”

Adam gulped. 
Is LaMont talking about my life or my job?
he wondered as a chill passed down his spine.  There was a part of him that wanted to extend both middle fingers, rebellious and proud.  There was a bigger part that enjoyed having a place to live.  The bigger part won.  He slowly nodded his head.

“I want you to say it out loud.  Do you understand me?”  LaMont spoke his words with a measured intent.

Adam croaked, “Yes, sir.  I understand.”  With that the rectangular screen in room 4C turned off, the light and colors fading into blackness.

Adam made his way to Glass slowly, thoughtfully, and took the opportunity to mull what Roman had said.  He felt fortunate this was only the fourth interaction he’d had with LaMont in the entire time he’d been employed by Adaptech, his first being after his new hire orientation, when LaMont had shaken his hand and wished him the best of luck as a new employee without even looking Adam in the eye.  The second was during his final interview for the position to head the v6 programming division, when LaMont appeared disinterested and asked questions that could have come from a book titled
Logic Puzzle Questions for Interviewees
, none of which were relevant to the job.  The third was LaMont’s terrible excuse for a pep talk given during the Lightcap project orientation.  Adam’s three previous brushes with LaMont had left sour tastes in Adam’s mouth, but those tastes were nothing like the current one.

Adam thought this might be the right time to update his resume, certain there had to be other positions and companies out there that didn’t come with the ego and cult of personality surrounding LaMont.  Adam ultimately dismissed the thought the instant he remembered Adaptech offered him an opportunity few other companies could: to work with and develop cutting-edge technology.  At his heart, Adam was a geek.  He would have taken a position with less pay and more stress if it allowed him to work with technology not yet publicly available.  He could never say that out loud, at least not to most.  Instead, when discussing his work at Adaptech he mentioned the salary and company name, which impressed most people, before he brought up that he also enjoyed helping create the technology that drove society’s progress.

Adam made his way from the subway exit near the bar, lost in thought and not minding his steps on the wide, empty sidewalk.  Most residents in this neighborhood were too affluent to walk anywhere, which allowed him to progress without interruption, eventually ending at the entrance to Glass.  He had only been a few times before, always in the summer, so he did not expect the difference in ambiance provided with the glass roof in its closed position, dusted with a light layer of snow sparkling in the moonlight, thousands of glimmers added to the already white-dotted night sky.  Most on the v6 programming team had already had the time to down a drink or two, and now enjoyed relaxed conversation and free food.  Adam made it halfway to the bar before Dej noticed and left a table with Aria and several others to intercept him.

“Hey Adam, how’d it go with LaMont?”  Dej asked, beer in hand.  It seemed not to be his first one of the night.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Adam replied as they arrived at the bar.  He faced the bartender, finger held up to Dej requesting patience, their conversation paused, and said to the man behind the bar, “Aged scotch.  Rocks.”  He turned back to Dej and continued, “I’d rather just forget about it.  Some people will always find a reason to be angry or to remind others they’re the one in charge.  I’m not talking about anyone specific, of course.  I do hope none of you think of me that way.  I make an effort to be approachable as a leader.  Honestly, in terms of sheer talent, I think there are a few coders on the team who would be better at this than me.”  Dej was one of those people, but Adam did not want to come across as playing favorites. 

Dej smiled, understanding implied through blinding white teeth.  He raised his pint glass and said, “To Damen.”  The
clink
of pint and tumbler glasses echoed off the glowing blue walls surrounding the bar, then faded into the murmured conversation from the rest of their group.  The sound caught the attention of Aria, who turned and noticed Adam and Dej standing together.  She excused herself from her table, sneaked up behind Dej, and slipped her arm around his shoulder.