IV. The Emperor. [Reversed]

My Office—MORNING

I am back at the office. It’s pretty dark; must be the weekend. First I hit the soda machine for some caffeine. They’ll be no coffee brewing today. After some deliberation and a search for uncrinkled dollars, I am soon popping a can of what calls itself Ram's Blood energy drink. I am a tad surprised the good folks at the cola company are using the shield of Mars as a logo, since the average joe would associate it with a phallus.

Whatever.

I shrug past the oaken office doors of several dignitaries, towards my own tiny space. I spend the entire trip looking about cautiously. Guiltily even, though I have no reason.

In my bare, little office is a small desk, a large computer and little else. I begin to grab some folders, disks, and the like so I can take some work home. Well, maybe not home. But somewhere else. Anywhere else. Besides, I am also not sure what even to grab but there is always work to do, isn’t there? So I just grab and grab.

I poke my head out of the office to see if the coast is clear. It is not. The Boss catches me, spots me from the open door of a nearby conference room. She waves me over to her. She is large, brash mannish woman in a red serape blouse. A souvenir of all of our time in the mountains, no doubt. She and the rest of the staff are eating together. A working lunch with reports, maps, scales and the like strewn over the conference table. I curse her under my breath. The air is thick with intervention. She holds a scale and a French curve in one hand and waves a menacing t-square in my direction with the other as I approach.

“Do you want to join us?”

“No, actually I was going to grab some work and head back home.”

“You aren’t going to work today? Don’t you know what we’re doing tomorrow?”

“It’s Sunday!” I yelp, “But, I was going to bring something home anyway. And. Yes, I know, we’re going out to the Point tomorrow to survey—”

“—Exactly.” She interrupts, “Tomorrow we’re going to do some of the most boring survey work possible. You’d think you’d want to work here today. To do some real work.”

“I see, I see. L’etat est toi!” I look around the table for help. There is none. She smiles crossing the drafting tools over her chest like a pharaoh with his ankhs. The Boss continues.

“After all you seem to try to give the impression that everything we try to do here is utter crap. I think everyone would agree with me.”

“The prince is right!” I hoot, in sarcastic agreement.