Stranger Things

In just a few more minutes, the completion bonus would be a reality. It had been a long tense day in the office; so tense that Julius crunched numbers at lunch instead of Doritos. The steady flow of invoices that filled their inboxes had slowed to a trickle by midday, and had stopped completely a few hours later.

No one knew what the invoices meant, or why they were even called invoices. The only details they knew were the specific equations that had to be applied to certain numbers in certain columns. They weren’t paid to ask questions, only to process the information. Julius thought about looking into it once, but he didn’t know where to start. The cryptic work sheets were filled with strange abbreviations and symbols that far surpassed the knowledge his minor in business ethics granted him. Sometimes he saw readouts like “KILLRAT 84” or “BIOMORT 7.16” or once even “INFECT 9031,” but those were probably harmless business jargon terms.

It’s not like he had a supervisor to talk to about it anyways. Other than the floating heads, who had proved they were always watching, there were no data processing supervisors, at least not that he knew of. Everyone was on the same page, working towards the same reward.

The reward. Julius could almost taste it, and it tasted like cake. He was a quarter of a century old today, what better way to celebrate this milestone than a bonus from the world’s most powerful company?

Each minute that passed brought him closer to his sweet prize. The soft thumping rhythm of thousands of frenzied fingers seemed to match his heartbeat. Sweat beaded across his upper lip as he leaned towards his screen. Three more entries and he’d be done. His phone vibrated in his pocket. There was a strict no ring tone policy at Globitrex, all phones must be on silent or they would be confiscated—Globitrex paid its employees enough to enforce ridiculous rules. Julius wasn’t sure if vibrate counted as a ring tone, but he wasn’t about to get busted for such a silly infraction so close to completion. He pulled it out, hit the mute button, and slammed it on the desk. No time to talk anyways. Two more entries. The phone buzzed again, he flipped it open without looking and jammed the off button. One more entry. He was almost out of his seat. Eyes wide, his hands flew across the keyboard like a concert pianist, just one more click.

DING!

A soft chime bleeped from his monitor, and then from the monitor in the cubicle next to his, then another three rows away. Soon the chime was sounding off all over the room. It was the sound of completion; it was the dinner bell, the bonus alert. It felt like the room was holding its breath, everyone listening for the next distant chirp. The sounds went on for nearly twenty minutes before finally petering out. Julius waited in silence with the rest of his coworkers.

“Now what?” shouted a man several rows away. No one responded.

They sat for another few minutes, a cough over here, some feet shuffling over there, silence.

“Attention level fourteen employees.”

Finally! It was the talking head! His slow methodical voice and his gravely serious face were hard to miss. His dark brown, almost black eyes looked straight out from the monitor and into each data processor’s face.

“Congratulations on a job well done. As promised, you shall each receive a reward.”

Someone clapped in row R. Julius couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips.

“Also, as rumors may have indicated, one of you will receive an extra reward, a bonus prize if you will.”

The floating head spoke with all the urgency of a sea snail. Julius impatiently bounced in his chair.

“Contrary to what you may have heard, all are eligible for the bonus prize. The winner will be drawn at random.”

What? That was going to hurt his chances. There could be tens of thousands of data processors.

“But before we do that, there is a completion bonus we need to distribute. As I’m sure you know, Globitrex is a wealthy company. That wealth would not be possible without hard workers like you. Over the last few years you have labored tirelessly and our company has benefited from it. Now it is time to share the wealth. Please pay close attention to your screen.”

Every face in every cubicle was glued to their monitors. Julius’ hands were clamming up and his throat was parched.

“In a few moments a message will appear detailing your reward. Shortly after, we’ll announce the winner of the bonus prize. Are you ready?”

A small group of people responded with an enthusiastic cheer. The talking head rolled his eyes at the verbal outburst.

“Ok then. Pay attention now,” an animated curtain lowered on the screen. “You’re completion prize is—”

Julius’ cell phone erupted. I thought I turned you off!

The curtain was starting to rise.

“Geez!” he screamed as he lunged for the disobedient phone. As a life-long fumbler Julius broke a lot of expensive objects, which is why his family never called on him to hold the camera or carry the drinks. So he wasn’t surprised when he dropped the phone and it bounced out of his cubicle as it sang a happy jingle, he was however, extremely annoyed.

“Sorry,” he groaned, hoping the floating head didn’t hear the phone. He was tempted to let it ring in the aisle till after he saw the prize, but he didn’t want to get his phone taken away, he paid a lot of money for it. The curtain was still a third of the way up as he tore his eyes from the screen and scrambled to his phone. The caller ID read “Dr. Strange.” Not now dad, Julius thought as he turned off the phone. This time he removed the battery, just to make sure there would be no further interruptions.

Not long after ending the racket from his phone, a new sound screamed through the office. A loud mechanical noise erupted from every computer in the building; its violent disruption of the silence made his cell phone sound like a pin drop. It was a weird low key grinding, like a train screeching to a stop mixed with the guttural rumble of a hungry lion, and it made him feel queasy. He shut his eyes and covered his ears but could still feel it in his chest. The hairs on his head were starting to rise like he was touching one of those magnetic orbs in that goofy gift shop at the mall.

“What is that?” he tried to say, but his words were gobbled up by the powerful sound.

He leaned against a cubicle wall while his stomach did a back flip. An awful gag forced its way up his throat and he slipped to one knee. Just as his vision started to blur the sound ended. The agonizing auditory assault couldn’t have lasted longer than a minute, but it felt like hours to his body.

Good thing I didn’t eat lunch, he thought as he wiped the tears from his eyes and rose to his feet. As a kid, Julius liked to read books about astronauts, specifically their living conditions in the international space station. Apparently, most of them got sick their first days in space and their first days back on earth thanks to gravity’s affect on their organs. Julius had never been to space, or even to space camp, but he was pretty sure that sound just sent his lower intestines into orbit.

“Uh oh.”

He flexed every muscle from his waist down, swallowed hard and made for the bathroom.

Several minutes later, he emerged from the men’s room with sweat lining his collar. It had occurred to him during his analplosion that not only had he forgotten to look at the prize, but he also didn’t see anyone celebrating. In fact, he didn’t see anyone moving at all. Did they not hear the sound?

He loosened his tie and closed the door to the bathroom behind him. The doorknob clicked into place emoting a crack that sounded like a shotgun blast in the oppressive silence. Julius winced and slowly stepped around the corner. He wanted to take a sip from the water fountain, but for some reason he was afraid to disturb the quiet again. Instead he bent low, so his head wouldn’t be seen over the cubicle walls and quickly made his way back to row Q.

He returned to his cubicle to find a blank screen. He wiggled the mouse to wake up the monitor but nothing happened. Maybe the sound disrupted the computers, he thought. Though he was far from a tech guy, Julius knew his way around computers, and he would have attempted to fix it if Globitrex hadn’t sealed the wires in a protective anti-tamper case. He sat for a moment longer and stared at the blank screen, willing it to turn on and show him his fabulous bonus.

Because of his family, Julius had developed patience beyond reason. He’d had one too many hands smacked over his eyes by crazy relatives asking him to “guess who.” to be an impatient person. Patience is what kept him sane, that and a great sense of humor, which was sadly lost on most of his family.

So with patience, he silently sat at his desk drumming his fingers across his desk. In times like this, he usually played a game on his phone, but it was disassembled in his pocket. Based on its previous disobedience, he wasn’t going to put it together and turn it on now, so he continued to wait.

An hour drifted by. During his wait, he didn’t hear a single sound, which wouldn’t be unusual if this weren’t completion day. Finally, he decided to ask a co-worker what happened. Surely the ban on fraternization has been lifted, he thought.

He poked his head over the right wall of his cubicle. There he saw Fred, at least he thought that guy’s name was Fred, staring at the same blank screen. Odd.

“Hey,” Julius whispered, “Hey Fred. Fred!”

No response. Maybe his name wasn’t Fred.

“Hey you, what was the prize?”

Still nothing. Fred seemed to be in some kind of trance. At first he thought the glory of the prize must have stunned his coworker into silence, but it would have to be one heck of a prize to stun someone for an hour.

Julius decided to try the other cubicle. A small Asian man occupied this one; he wasn’t sure what his name was.

“Hey Mr….uh, Mr. Asian Guy,” Julius cringed at his own politically incorrectness. “Sorry to bother you, but do you know what the prize is?”

Mr. Asian Guy was not moving. He too was lost in the blackness of the dark computer screen.

“What the heck is going on here?” Julius said, finally raising his voice above a whisper. “Is this some kind of joke?”

The silence hung over him like a heavy rain cloud. No more waiting, he thought. It was time for action.

Julius fished a green paper clip from his bag, bent low and tossed it over the wall like a soldier throwing a grenade from a trench. He waited for a second and then slowly brought his eyes over the wall. The paper clip was stuck in a patch of Fred’s thin hair, but there was no movement, not even an irritated glance in his direction.

“Freeeeed. Hello?” Julius let out a long sigh. “Come on Fred, I just threw that paper clip. You know, the one sticking from that tuft on your forehead you’re trying to pass as hair. Fred? Do you hear me Fred?”

Nothing. Julius walked to the water cooler filled up a cup and brought it back to his desk. He plumped in his chair and took a sip. He was never an anxious person; there wasn’t much that could get him worried, but the fact that Fred hadn’t blinked, flinched, or moved over the last few minutes was more than strange. There had to be an explanation for this.

He finished his water, crumpled the paper cup and got out of his chair. He left his cubicle, and took a quick look at each worker in his row. Cube after cube told the same story. He didn’t notice earlier, but each person looked to be frozen, hypnotized by his or her blank screens. One woman actually had a small puddle of drool on her keyboard, and another man had his face smashed against the screen like he was trying to push through the monitor.

“Hello?” Julius shouted, “Can someone tell me what’s happening here?”

His voice echoed across the office. It was a strange feeling to be in a room full of people and go unnoticed when shouting, especially when the room was a Globitrex office.

He took a tour of the next row, and the one after that. More spaced out data crunchers. He decided to try something drastic.

“I’ve got a bomb and I’m going to blow up the building!” Julius shouted.

Silence.

“I’m taking my clothes off in public!”

Still no response.

“Globitrex sucks!” This one he meant.

But he got no reaction, not even a reprimand from the talking heads. He gazed around the room and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands as if it would make everyone snap back to life. This was starting to get creepy. What on earth could make three hundred people space out to the point that they don’t respond to naked bomb threats?

He returned to his desk a final time and took another glance at the screen. Maybe it had something to do with the prize, and that sound. Maybe I should find help. He reassembled his cell phone and switched it on. No signal. He stood and waved his arm around, feeling slightly embarrassed even though he knew no one was looking. He walked up and down the row but couldn’t get anything. There was no use in staying here with his zoned out coworkers, I’ll get better reception outside, he thought as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the down button and for some reason was surprised to see the doors open. He stepped inside and hit the button to take him to the ground floor. The elevator doors closed with a ding as he studied his cell phone wondering what he’d say if someone picked up. Help, my office has been zombified?

Back on row Q, a balding man in cubicle 33 blinked his eyes and let out a low moan.