Remote work, part 4

 The work day in the mountains passed uneventfully.  At one point a young man in a tracksuit and trainers, chewing gum, came in and looked around, then took a place in the other room.  Ashley smiled and nodded at him and then forgot about him.  The only other thing worth noting, she thought, was that at one point she was sure Iris walked past the window but when she went out on to the veranda to say hello there was no-one there.

“I’ve only got spaces in Dunheim today,” said Iris when Ashley turned up at Doorways on Wednesday.  She ran a hand through her hair and looked, Ashley thought, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry; I wouldn’t normally suggest it to you since you’ve not even been here a week, but there was a group booking that’s meant I’ve had to juggle everyone around.  You seem like you could handle Dunheim though.”

Ashley smiled, though secretly she’d been hoping to go back to the beach.  In her backpack, nestled next to her laptop, was a bottle of suntan lotion that she’d bought on the way.

“I’m sure I’ll cope,” she said.  “Everywhere else has been good so far!  But… would it be possible, perhaps, to be able to go to the beach tomorrow?”  She fixed Iris with her gaze, hoping that she’d made a good enough impression on the woman to get a favour.

“Ye-es,” said Iris.  She went behind the reception desk and picked up a large book and turned a page.  “Yes!  I’ll put you down for there right now.  Dunheim is the sixth door along on the corridor, you can take yourself there, right?”

Right, thought Ashley as she walked down the corridor counting doors.  She was starting to feel like an old hand at this.  Ah, this must be the door to Dunheim.  Sounds like somewhere elves live.  Forest, perhaps?

On the other side of the door was a room as cold and clinical as a laboratory.  The desks were steel and grey and the chairs, one per desk, were padded and looked comfortable but they were an identical grey.  The floor was polished concrete in another shade of grey and the walls were polished steel and were grey wherever she wasn’t looking at the reflection of the furnishings.  There was, again, no-one else in there.

She walked around and realised that there were two doors out but they were hard to spot because of the monochrome colour scheme and and shininess of the walls.  The first one opened into a tiny steel-countered kitchen with a thankfully-white coffee machine and cups and enough room for two people to stand and talk.  The other opened into a kind of lounge: there were black cushioned couches spaced around a room as large as the first room and a large window looking out into what Ashley thought might be a cave.  The floor was more polished concrete and the walls were shiny steel still, so the grey colour scheme persisted.  The lights in the ceiling were a multitude of tiny recessed spotlights that she thought must be a real pain to replace when the bulbs burned out.

The window drew her attention though: outside there was no sign of a sky, and there were rocky walls not too distant.  Looking down she realised that there was a drop down to black water with a few white wave caps on it.  As she studied the view she realised that there was dark-green lichen and moss growing here and there on the rocks, and as her eyes adjusted to the low-contrast she starting to see things moving.  Distant things, too small to make out clearly, that moved like spiders clambering swiftly across the rock.  She shivered and decided to work in the laboratory-like room.

Choosing a desk she sat down and set herself up; the keycard connected her to Interwork and she frowned at it, wondering what novelty it might reveal today.  Then her messaging client pinged: Dave had sent her a message.

I was thinking, it read, and I want to be clear.  I didn’t want to lose you.  The new Director picked all the people to stay.

Ashley’s eyes widened.  Jenna had chosen to get rid of her?  She lifted her hands to reply, and then hesitated.  She checked the filesystem — sure enough, she could still see all the supposedly locked files.  Looking through the seating plan again she realised no-one who was being kept ever rocked the boat or made suggestions about things could be done better or more efficiently.

Picking people to be loyal to them? she typed back, trying to choose her words carefully.

Or who already are.

Ashley tapped a finger against her lips.  Dave was hinting about Jenna without coming out and saying it — maybe he was fishing to see what she knew?

The next hour was a sporadic mix of answering emails, trying to start an analysis on a new project, and messaging Dave.  He slowly gave up the detail that Jenna was going to be the new Director and that he thought there was more to the whole promotion than met the eye.  Ashley let him talk as much as possible and gradually she started to feel that Dave was looking for an ally.

I don’t think I’m much help, she murmured to herself, tapping the enter key to send a vaguely hopeful message to him.  I’m out on my ear as of Monday.  Her eyes went to the keycard again and she grew thoughtful.  But I suppose I do have one thing that no-one else seems to know about.

She stretched and wondered where the toilet was.  She definitely hadn’t seen it when she been looking at the cave, so she stood up and started walking around the room, examining the shiny walls trying to see if there was a door she’d missed.  It was on the second circuit, just as her bladder was starting to urgently complain that she needed to find the toilet that she spotted a recess in the wall at waist height.  Slipping her fingers in a little handle rocked back and a door opened, revealing a concrete corridor beyond with some doors marked with male and female symbols.

“Oh thank goodness,” she muttered.  There was a click behind her as though someone had come in, but her bladder was now cramping her stomach with its demands so she hurried through to the toilet and relief.

When she returned she was surprised to see that the room was still empty.  Curious she opened the door to the other room, but that was empty too.  She decided that she’d check the kitchen, but to avoid looking nosy she would refill her coffee too.  As she picked her cup up from her desk her gaze glided over the things on the desk and she paused.  Something was wrong… missing.  The keycard!