Does Not Meet Requirements

The letters and words on Maisie’s screen looked like they were vibrating. Taking off her glasses for a moment, she rubbed her eyes, the green blinking cursor on her screen burned into her retinas. She shouldn’t have had that third cup of coffee, she thought to herself as she took a deep breath. “You alright?” Manager Troy asked, appearing at her cubicle.

“Yeah, of course!” Maisie answered, doing her best to smile. “Just had a little too much coffee, that’s all.”

“Remember...” Troy said, his injected lips pulling back even further.

“Coffee is a privilege,” Maisie said with him in unison and he nodded, prowling down the row of cubicles silently, waiting for someone to sigh or let out a frustrated grunt. Maisie returned to her work, typing commands to navigate from folder to folder. The Dunning Corporation had hired her firm to scrub through their correspondence, looking for anything untoward. Of course, Maisie couldn’t be told what exactly they meant by that, but Troy assured her that she would know it when she saw it.

So far, the Dunning Corporation seemed even more boring than her own workplace. She was currently reading through chat logs. Down-arrowing through, actually. Although she would never meet any of these people, it still felt odd to her to read every single word someone wrote to another. She felt like a surveillance bug in an old spy movie. Their every word was already recorded, why should she have to read it too?

She caught herself imagining what these people were like, sometimes. Sometimes she didn’t even try to catch herself. The current log she was looking through was for users ASmith and AJones. They seemed friendly with one another. “Hey! Thanks for that report :-)” AJones had written last Friday.

“No problem. Did you catch this week’s Trivia Time?” Maisie imagined them when they first met, maybe AJones started after ASmith and they quickly bonded over sharing the same first letter of their first names. Bumping into each other at the watercooler. Maybe AJones worked in a completely different department and ASmith found any reason she could to go visit AJones. And AJones, she was a beauty, Maisie thought to herself matter-of-factly. How could ASmith have possibly avoided falling madly in love with her?

Her computer gave a defiant boop. She came back from her daydream, realizing she had reached the end of the chat log and hitting the down arrow was giving her an error. “Have a good weekend,” ASmith said in their final exchange.

“You know I will B-),” AJones replied.

The keys of her keyboard, slightly patinated, clacked as she marked the logs “Does Not Meet Requirements”. In this case, the “requirements” were “something untoward”. She had been reprimanded for speculation before, so she left it at that. Her computer clunked and whirred as it saved the information. When it had stopped, she poked the eject button and out popped a square floppy disk. She grabbed a pen nearby and scribbled her initials in the corner of its label. She stuck it back into the rectangular box that housed the Dunning Corporation chat logs. She realized she had made it to the end of the box. She knew there were plenty more to go, but still felt a slight swell of accomplishment.

She closed the lid on the box and marked the label on the box with her initials. She stood and stretched. She shot a glance at the clock on the wall, just 10 minutes to close. She knew everyone around her were shooting the clock furtive glances as well, willing the minute hand to get on with it. If she was smart about it, she could fill those 10 minutes with logging the box of chat logs. “Maisie, you need something?” Manager Troy asked.

“Nope!” she said cheerfully, holding the box aloft. “Just finished a box, gonna put it away.” She turned the monitor to her computer off, which was security protocol, but also would buy her some more time if she needed it. Leisurely strolling through the aisle of her cubicle farm, she did her best to not look at anyone’s monitors. That was a fireable offense, after all.

The buzzing fluorescents above her led into a corridor and she passed the elevators, reaching the stairwell. She took the steps slowly, carefully. If anyone asked, she’d say she just didn’t want to drop the box and stairs were tricky in heels. Descending down a level, then another, then another, she reached the basement floor. She pulled the door open to find Ruth at her desk, a cigarette hanging from her lip.

“Ma’am,” Maisie said and Ruth looked up over the rim of her glasses, a smile pulling the cigarette away at an odd angle.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ruth asked. Maisie placed the box of floppy disks on Ruth’s desk.

“These have been reviewed and are ready for archival,” Maisie said, unable to contain her smile. “Or whatever it is you do down here with your filing cabinets and your cigarette smoke.” She faked a cough.

“You wanna have a drink tonight?” Ruth asked, knocking the ash off her cigarette into a green glass ashtray. She looked so debonair, so cool that it took Maisie by surprise. Maisie’s heart skipped a beat and she actually began to cough in earnest.

“Um, sure! Why not!” Maisie said. “I’ll go log off and see you in the parking lot. Deal?” She said, swallowing a lump in her throat. Ruth agreed and Maisie left. The combination of the stairs and her nerves made for a breathless return to her floor. As she wrenched the door open, she heard manager Troy, his little plastic watch whining in staccato beeps.

“That’s the day, people!” Troy said. “Good work today, we’ll see you tomorrow,” he said like a volleyball coach. Maisie smiled to herself. Everything was coming up roses. As she walked to her cubicle, without thinking, she glanced over to see someone still working. They had headphones on, typing quickly, furiously. She figured they hadn’t heard Troy’s announcement. She tapped them on the shoulder and they turned to her. They ripped the headphones from their ears and quickly jabbed at the power button on their monitor.

“M: Um, sure! Why not! I’ll ” the text on the screen read before it disappeared into a white line and then darkness. Maisie swallowed hard and blinked, looking at the person in their chair, who stared back at her defiantly. “Troy announced the day was over,” Maisie said, hoping she did not betray the dread that had plowed through her stomach.

“Oh, thanks, I must have missed it,” they said and turned back to their screen. They had their finger on the monitor’s power button, waiting to press it in. Maisie didn’t move, so neither did they.

“You know,” Maisie said, steeling her voice, “y’know, you don’t have to. You can just-” tears were forming in her eyes.

“So far the audio I’ve listened to does not meet requirements,” they said, not looking at her. “But I would be obligated to report if it ever did.” They looked up at her and locked eyes. “Ever.”

“Of course!” Maisie said, doing her best to wipe the tear from her eye without being conspicuous. “You have a good night,” she said and turned away. She got her things from her cubicle and made for the elevator. Manager Troy stepped out in front of her, his shirt unbuttoned too far down, the sleeves of his blazer rolled up.

“I was going to grab a drink, care to join me?” Troy asked, adjusting the gold chain about his neck. Maisie was at a loss for words, but looked to see that they were standing outside her coworker’s cubicle. The one who had been listening to her. They nodded to Maisie gravely.

“Um, sure! Why not!” Maisie stumbled. “Ruth down in records had mentioned some people getting together, maybe we can all meet up. Would you like to come?” she asked the coworker and they shook their head no. She advanced towards the elevators and Troy followed alongside her.

“Dunning Corporation, huh?” Troy asked as the elevator doors shut.

“Yep. Pretty boring stuff so far, though, honestly,” Maisie said.

“Rumor has it the place is overrun. But they say that about us too,” Troy said. “Supposedly they’ve got some people looking into it. But I just couldn’t see anybody here being a deviant like that. Could you?”

“Definitely not,” Maisie said and the elevator arrived at the parking garage. She saw Ruth standing near a compact, smoking a cigarette, mashing the buttons on some handheld game. “Ruth!” Maisie called out and Ruth looked up, her smile fading immediately. “I’m going to ride over with Troy, I’ll see you there!” she called out. Troy waved to Ruth and turned away.

“I’m sorry,” Maisie mouthed to Ruth. “I’m so sorry.”