Manager

      When I approached the desk, I noticed the number of documents with which it was piled.       Yes, it was back to its original. I could just give up on them, but I wanted to make sure there really wasn’t anything interesting in there, and who knows? Maybe I’d find a forgotten copy of the Script in there. Or even Angela’s instruction manual. With an emergency shutdown code, yeap.       Having exchanged pleasantries, I began to shake information from Angela: I asked for a brief report on the state of affairs in general and a full report on the technical condition of the Complex in particular. The technical report was promised by the start of work, as the inspection was still in progress. But I got news that really pleased me: EGO was still there! All of it, including the one that was on the dead employees! I had not even counted on this, I thought that the maximum was only EGO that was in the warehouse. I don’t know who I have to thank for this present, but so far this is the best news I have ever received! The question remains, however, why in this case I didn’t get anything from my “predecessor”.       Well, let’s hope I never find out the answer…       After checking everything and giving pre-launch orders, Angela and I got to talking, we talked about the Sephiroths, and then we went to the Scenario… I mean, to Malkuth.       “Where is everybody?”       “Soon the briefing of the Control team should start here, the Sephirah of this department should be here already…”       A-a-and yeah, there she goes.       “Good morning, Manager! My name is Malkuth. I’m Malkuth, head of the Control Team! Sorry for being late!”       “Remember, dearie, you’re the boss, and bosses aren’t late, they’re delayed. And anyway, where are your goons?”       “Who?”       “Where are your underlings? They’re supposed to be here before you, actually.”       “Uh…”       “Well, I see what’s going on here. Instruct your guys that they have to be on time, even if the supervisor is late. And also that lack of punctuality has a negative effect on salary…”       “No-no, sir, they’re not late, they’re just waiting for my signal in the Main Hall!”       “Really? Well, alright, if it pleases you…”       “Sir, please don’t encourage someone else’s carelessness. Malkuth, please be more punctual. Get everything ready for the meeting. Manager, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave you for a moment. I’ll meet you in your office. Try not to stay too long.”       “Angela is not in the mood today.” — Sephirah commented on Angela’s departure, at the same time arranging the files on the table. History repeats itself, yes…       “Is she often not in the mood?”       “Well, to be honest, sometimes it seems she is not in the mood like all time…”       “I can imagine why. Okay, tell me please, how’s it going in general?”       “In general? Well, we have all kinds of difficulties on a regular basis, but we’re kind of doing okay with our main task. At least that’s what Angela says.”       “It sounded like you doubt it.”       “Oh, no, I don’t doubt that we’re up to the task, it’s just…”       “Just what?”       “Well, it’s not customary to talk about it, but this Complex, it’s… a kind of unstable. I think you’ll see what I mean when you’ve worked here long enough.”       “Alright…”       The Complex is unstable, huh. I’ll tell you more — everything is unstable here: the Complex, the Anomalies, the Sephiroths, the employees, who knows what else, and even myself. In my opinion, the only thing that is stable here is Angela, and I have doubts about that too.       Then the banging on the door started. Oh, yeah, the Script. Here we go again.       “I can’t take it anymore! Are you our new Manager? I want to get out of here, please! I know you can fire me! Please, I’m begging you!” — The voice seems to be the same as the last time.       “Can’t he just write a letter of resignation?” — I asked Malkuth quietly.       “Well, it’s a little complicated.”       “Like, they only leave from here in coffins?”       “Not exactly, but… Let’s just say the quickest way to break the contract is due to death, and in other cases, you have to wait. Wait a lot.”       ”…Hey, can you hear me? Please, I don’t want to die…”       “How do you call security? Or an ambulance? Or someone to calm down the violent ones?”       “Oh, that’s… I apologize for the unpleasantness. You see, this is my subordinate. Please let me handle this.”       “I don’t mind, I’m just wondering how long it’s gonna take him to get out the door? I still have to go back to my office.”       “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll call my assistants right away…”       “By the time they get here and sort it out, we’ll waste time. Hey there, what’s your name?”       “John… my name is John, sir! Individual number M-1-Epsilon-27!”       “Alright, buddy, you’re fired. Go pack your things while we do the paperwork. They’ll escort you out later.”       “Really?! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” — And he ran away. Poor guy…       “Uh, sir?”       “Send some men to intercept him, and then… well, I think you know what to do.”       “Don’t worry, sir, it happens all the time.”       “Actually, that’s a cause for worry… Okay, I have to go. See you later.” — and I walked back to my Office, thinking about… John, that his name? Or should I say “that was his name” already?       Sorry, man, I can’t help you. At all. At most, I can give you false hope. Should I order you to calm down and clean up? I could, of course, but they would send me away in a very polite way, and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. Well, after all, why should I care about you? Or the other employees? You’re nothing to me, you’re just nameless dummies. No, of course I’ll try not to waste your lives, but I won’t mourn you if I do. If I worry about every little thing, I’ll go crazy.       …Here I am, thinking of other people’s lives as little things. Isn’t it just great? When did I become a heartless bastard? Hmm, I guess we’ll assume it was just a sober calculation that led me to make a deal with my conscience, where between worrying about the lives of strangers all the time and being indifferent to them in order to achieve my goal, the latter was chosen. Escobar’s theorem in action, for crap sake…       “Sir, I apologize for this unfortunate incident. I am responsible for the security of your Office, but I forgot to keep an eye on the conference room.”       Did the best AI forget something? Yeah, sure, for the millionth time. I could have teased her, but I think I’ll hold off.       “Okay, never mind, everyone’s fine. Well, except for the violent one. Did they catch him yet?”       “You don’t have to worry about that, he’s already been cut down and won’t be bothering anybody else.”       “Well, that was quick.” — rest in peace, John, I’ll see you next time.       ”…You know what “cut down” means in this company, don’t you?”       “Hmm? Well, usually it means that a person gets fired, but since you brought it up, I guess “cut down” here means something else, doesn’t it?”       “Yes, that’s right. There are probably some things about this company that shock you. We all have different roles here. Like a well-oiled machine, we all have our task…”       “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, the company is a huge clock, and the people in it are the gears and the springs and all the other parts, and if any part breaks, it has to be replaced. Angela, this metaphor has been around for about as long as all the big companies have been exist. Let’s cut to the chase, okay? How is the Lobotomy approach fundamentally different from the usual one?”       ”…It’s different in that whereas normally you just throw the cog away, here you scrap it.”       “That is, people here are not fired, but eliminated. I see. You could have told me straight out, I would have understood. Or do you just like to talk in metaphors?”       “I just wanted to make that point in a gentler way.”       “Thank you for your concern. But I wonder… why kill?”       “I would ask you to refrain from using the term “kill.” As for your question… You see, everything to do with energy extraction is a top secret of the Corporation, and former employees who used to work here could cause a leak of information, which is absolutely unacceptable, so…”       “Yeah, sure, and memory-modifying technology is such a rare and expensive exotic these days that there’s no way the Corporation can afford it, because it’s not a freaking monopoly on the energy market, and electricity is a very hard thing to sell and very hard to make a profit from.”       “Purchasing and operating such technology is not economically feasible.”       Yeah, it’s much cheaper to put a bullet in the forehead and cremate the body along with the personnel file than to spend a relatively small amount of money and some time mopping up the memories of people who have been fired. Ethics? Humanism? What is that even? Freaking dystopia.       “All right, give me the case of the anomaly we’re working with today.”       Another pleasant surprise awaited me in the folder I was given: the line “code designation” had not disappeared! Neither was the code designation itself! Hooray, I don’t have to argue with Angela that I can call the Jesus Skull the Jesus Skull! It seems that the information entered in the main documentation isn’t lost after the restart. I assume it’s stored on Angela’s servers or whatever she has. Hmm, I wonder what else isn’t lost after restarts?       “By the way, Manager, here’s the full report on the technical condition of the complex you asked for.” — Angela pointed to a weighty folder.       “Okay, I’ll familiarize myself with it while I’m working. Is the Control team not ready yet…?”       A single session with the Skull took the staff about ten minutes on average, give or take three minutes, depending on their skills. I’m pretty sure the EGO armor I gave them would keep them from freaking out, so I could do my thing without worrying, just occasionally glancing at the monitors and issuing instructions. So I picked up that report and started “studying” it.       “Now, what do we have here? A malfunction in the biometric monitoring system? Isn’t that the thing that monitors the status of personnel?”       “Yes, sir. The exact cause of the malfunction has yet to be determined…”       “Give repairs the highest possible priority, I want this malfunction fixed as quickly as possible.”       “Understood. I will give the appropriate orders. However, I should note that due to some limited resource base, repairs may be delayed.”       “And how long will the repairs take?”       “Hmm… I can’t give you an exact timeframe, but I’ll make sure there are no delays.”       “Alright, I’m counting on you.”       Hmm, something is still worrying me in this report. But what? Seems like nothing critical here: failure of terminal here, power surge there, malfunction of containment unit door… Wait, what?       “Angela, what is this terminal responsible for?” — I showed her a place that interested me.       “This terminal is used for manual control of the automated systems of the Control Department.”       “Including those which are responsible for the containment of the anomalies?”       “Including those responsible for them.”       Ah, I see. I should check it out, though… I turn a few pages and poke a random problem.       “What does this energy subnetwork do?”       “It’s responsible for supplying power to the Welfare Department’s holding cells.”       “What happened to it anyway? It just says there was some kind of malfunction.”       “A short circuit, presumably caused by Qlipoth Overheating.”       ”…And how many problems with the containment cells are there?”       “You don’t have to worry about that.”       “Are you sure that, of all things, this is the one I shouldn’t worry about?”       “Most of the faults have been promptly corrected. Those that remain do not affect the efficiency of power extraction.”       “But it affects the overall safety of the complex. Great. Okay, whatever.” — I put the folder aside. I remember that Angela, according to the plot, set up escapes of anomalies and covered them up with technical problems. Supposedly, the anomalies produce more Enkephalin after killing employees. I can not say with certainty how things work here, but apparently, something like that took place. What should I do with this information? Pfft, like I can do anything with it. Only make myself feel bad about it. Now, is George done in there or not?

***

      “You’ve done well, Manager.”       “You make it sound like an achievement.”       “You could say that. Some of your predecessors couldn’t last a day here.”       “Oh, really?”       “It’s true. For instance, there was the occasion…”       “I’m not sure I want to hear it.” — I already know what case you can tell me about, so screw it.       “As you wish. Where should I serve dinner?”       “Ah? Oh, that’s… Here, please.”       The dinner was salad and cutlets with rice. It must be said that there were so many ingredients in all the local dishes that I couldn’t recognize either by sight or taste. For example, I can’t understand what kind of greens are in the salad, or what kind of meat the cutlets are made of. However, all the dishes were invariably delicious, so I tried not to think about it. If you have too few good things in life, you should enjoy them to the fullest.

***

      I didn’t sleep well last night. Again. It was the same as night from the first to the second day in previous loop, even though I had no such problems on the other days. I mean, I had had trouble falling asleep before, but then I slept well into the morning. But waking up in the middle of the night… I don’t remember doing that. I didn’t pay much attention to this problem, though.        “Good morning, Manager.”       “It’s never a good morning.”       “Hmm? Something wrong?”       “Nothing. I didn’t sleep well. You know, new place and all. Listen, is there any tea in this Complex?”       “Yes, of course. Do you prefer black or green varieties?”       “Black. And could you serve it here every morning?”       “Certainly, sir.”       Oh, yes, if there’s any way to make my stay in this hellhole even a little more comfortable, it would be foolish not to take advantage of it.       Angela fairly quickly brought the requested drink, which I gladly consumed. But while I was drinking it, I had a feeling that something was wrong. I looked around the office — everything seemed to be as usual, Angela was standing quietly, the screens were quiet too, there was Malkuth saying something to some clerk… wait, Malkuth! She came to me with a project for my approval in the last iteration, didn’t she? Just as Angela was fetching tea! Now she seems to be giving commands to the clerks instead, and it’s not like she’s in a hurry to come to me!       What the hell? Why isn’t she even going to go to me this time? No, I remember that iterations are different, but doesn’t she need to approve the project? The project… Wait a minute… If the “code designations” line still exists, couldn’t that project also have survived? Along with the signature? I should check it out. But how?       “Sir, is something bothering you?”       “Ah? No, no, I just imagined some suspicious noises. It sounded like a cow’s mooing.”       “I didn’t hear anything like that.”       “Yeah, I told you, I thought I imagined it. Do wondrous games of our consciousness happen sometimes, don’t they?”       “You have no idea by how much.” — I don’t even want to know what she meant.       My impulse to go to Malkuth right now and try to work some roundabout way to clear up the matter was brushed aside: it would look very suspicious in Angela’s eyes. Though if I’m       already as caught as I don’t know who, wouldn’t that be too much of a precaution? Hmm, I don’t really feel like checking, so we’ll keep being paranoid. The main thing is not to forget to clarify the question on occasion.       Okay, then the routine continued on schedule. Although, first I had to give a codename to “Beauty and the Beast”, which wasn’t there last time. It took me quite a while to figure out what to call that thing, and I came up with nothing better than “Overgrown Beetle”. It looks like that, and there aren’t any other insect-like anomalies, so it’ll be fine, I guess.       “Sir, don’t you think that name is a little too trivial?”       “Yes, I do, but I can’t think of anything else. If you have a better idea, don’t hesitate to say it.”       “Well, since you asked… How about “Cursed Beast”?”       “Oh… Actually, that’s not bad! That’s the name we’ll use.”       “Whatever you say, sir.”       The day went on as usual. I sent the employees to the abnormalities, and in the meantime, I sorted out the rest of the documents, distracted only by the issuance of commands. To be honest, after an hour I wanted to burn all this waste of paper, because the useful information — zero, but the concentration of clerical text exceeded all reasonable limits and made my brain boil. What was this sentence alone worth reading: “As a result of intoxication with household rubbing alcohol, hired worker number H-2-Beta-22 temporarily became unstable and, being in this state, showed his latent destructive tendencies, which were expressed by the fact that this employee caused significant structural damage to some furniture (see Appendix One for a full list of damaged furniture), and also in an attempt to attack employee N-2-Sigma-14, which, however, failed due to high intoxication of employee H-2-Be’s body.” And in this vein, at least a quarter of all the documents are written here!       I was distracted from reading yet another bureaucratic ode by Angela.       “Manager, employee Jim is in a panic.”       “Ah?” — I took my eyes off my reading and turned my attention to the screens. Yeah, Jim. I sent him to the Beast to work for Understanding. It’s weird, he should be able to take it… Now he’s running down the hallway and screaming his head off. So he’s panicking, just like in the game. That’s all right. Panic running and screaming is nothing, as long as he doesn’t throw himself at people. Now let’s see if the panicking staff members can be brought to their senses by weapons with mental, or, as the paperwork says, White damage. Like I hand out Skull Crosses to everyone for nothing?       “Okay, guys, there’s a little problem: Jim’s head is screwed up. We’ve got to help the poor guy and put him in his place with some life-giving kicks. He’s on his way to the Hall right now. We’ve got a lot of work to do today, so try not to take too long, okay?”       After giving the order, I got comfortable and waited for the show. I wanted to see how the staff would wield EGO in real life. The Crosses, as I called the Skull’s EGO, were, of course, not a great weapons, but since they gave the wearer the ability to work with them… well, the show promised to be entertaining.       Five minutes later       Um… What can I say… I definitely got the show, but not at all what I hoped for. What was I hoping for, you ask? Well, I don’t know, something like a martial arts show, or, more realistically, a crime chronicle showing footage of a criminal being apprehended. And I certainly wasn’t expecting a Benny Hill-style chase!       Jim, not stopping to scream, was running through the corridors like a man on fire. The suppression team of Mary, Peter and Ian, in turn, tried desperately to catch up with him, but Jim was noticeably faster. He often reached dead ends and turned back, and instead of grabbing him by the arm or something like that, the team swung their crosses to try to hit poor Jim, managing to miss every time.       I watched this show, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, because what was going on on the screens didn’t fit my understanding of reality. Finally, I got tired of guessing and decided to find out directly from the runners.       “All right, stop! Gentlemen, take a short break from your no doubt fascinating activity and explain to me what it is you’re doing?”       The team stopped and looked around in amazement.       “Yes, yes, I’m talking to you, ladies and gentlemen! I ask you again: what are you doing?”       “Ah… Manager, do you hear us? “ — The only girl in the team timidly try clarified that.       “And I see as well. Why are you making surprised faces at me, as if I’ve discovered America to you? Or don’t you know what “CCTV” is?”       “What’s “America”?”       “That’s not important! What’s important is that I asked you a question and now I’m waiting for an answer.”       “Well… This is… On your orders, we are… uh… implementing a procedure to suppress an unstable employee! S-sir!”       “Very well! Now will you please explain to me why you’re chasing this unstable employee all over the damn facility?”       “Ah… but…” — All three of them glanced at each other,. — “We have to suppress the employee, don’t we? And to do that we have to get close to him so that we can, well…”       “To bang him in the head with a cross. Excuse me, gentlemen, but… are you idiots?”       “Excuse me, sir?”       “My point is, you could have done a much simpler thing and, I don’t know, used a tactic as old as the world itself called “ambush”?”       “Ah… I’m sorry, what’s that?”       …what?       “Are you kidding me? You really don’t know what an 'ambush' is?”       “I’m sorry, sir, but none of us are trained in tactics, so…” — Peter spoke up.       They don’t know what an ambush is.       That revelation made me scratch my head. I beg your pardon, how?! How, I ask you, can you don’t know what is an “ambush”?!       After suppressing the outburst of indignation and the urge to bang my head on the table, I decided that I should give my subordinates clearer instructions.       “All right, now, listen and remember your new instructions: you will now return to the Main Hall, where you will stand by the doors, and wait for Jim to run through them. When Jim appears, Peter and Ian will grab him by the arms, preventing him from running any further, and put a gag in his mouth so that he won’t make anyone nervous by screaming…”       “Sorry, sir, where are we going to get a gag?”       “Make it out of whatever you can get!” — this question made me angry. — “From some rags or, if you can’t find any rags, use paper, whatever! And when you grab Jim and shut him up, Mary will beat him over the head with a cross until he calms down and comes to his senses! Do you understand?!”       “Yes, sir!”       “Then why are you still here?! Get to the Main Hall!”       It took them less than a minute to get there.       “Okay, Jim’s in hallway M-1-4 right now. I hope, you find the right door on your own?”       All right, calm down, they’re gonna catch Jim, give him a beating, and everything will go back to normal. The guys should be fine. Well, they’re not a complete idiots, are they?       Five minutes later       “You’re not idiots, you’re retards! Why the hell can’t you catch one crazy half-wit?!”       “Sir, he’s too fast!”       “That’s a bad excuse, considering you know exactly where and when he’s going to run!”       This situation was beginning to piss me off: freaking Jim was somehow twisting and dodging any attempt to catch him, and I couldn’t tell if it was Jim being such a slippery bastard or if the suppression team wasn’t quick enough. No, they’ll be catching him like that all day, and we haven’t got our quota!       “Okay, plan B!” — I tuned the broadcast to the whole complex and announced — “Attention all personnel! All employees, including office staff, immediately come to the Main Hall of the Control Department! I repeat: all of you go to the Main Hall immediately!”       A minute later, all the clerks were there. What’s the use of them anyway? During their shifts, all they do is wander around the department and, at most, wipe the floors. Well, that’s okay, now they’ll be useful.       “All right, I’m declaring a “Plan Intercept”! A panicky employee is about to come running in, and your job is to corner him, grab him, and let Mary smack him in the head with a cross! Is that clear?”       “Uh, sir, that’s not in our purview…” — one of the clerks spoke up.       “And whoever argues will be thrown out in the frost.”       “What frost?”       “Backstreet’s frost! As far as I know, there’s no central heating in Backstreet’s! There’s no heating there at all, nor any of the amenities of civilization! All right, no more silly questions, get ready to intercept. There’s a crowd of thirteen of you, you’ll manage to do it quickly.” Five minutes later       “Are you kidding me?! You have one, one task! A simple, uncomplicated task! You don’t have to hold back an army of demons coming straight from Hell, you don’t have to stand up to some ancient Gods, all you have to do is catch one man! And you, for some reason I don’t understand, can’t do it! There are thirteen of you! Thirteen adults, and all of them can’t do crap!”       “But, sir, he’s too fast!” — Some clerk put more oil on the fire.       “That’s no excuse! And I don’t need an excuse, I need a result! A positive result, got it?!” — I tried to take a sip from my mug, but I found it empty, which only made me angrier. — “FOR FU… Okay, okay, new plan: find a long rope or wire or hose or something like that somewhere. The next time Jim runs through the door, two of you pull that stuff so that he trips and falls over it. And before he gets up, you grab him and hold him while Mary hits him over the head with a cross.”       “Why does it necessarily have to be me?”       “BECAUSE I SAID SO! DON’T ASK STUPID QUESTIONS! DOES EVERYBODY UNDERSTAND?!”       “Yes, sir!”       “Then get the rope! MOVE! Oh…” — I leaned back in my chair and rested my head with my left hand, thinking.       How much time have we wasted on this? Twenty minutes? And I still have not collected a quota… Though, the quota is nothing, I need Enkephalin for the production of EGO. If this keeps up, I’ll have to give up on Jim, which is undesirable. Damn…       Then Angela placed a mug next to me. I picked it up with some surprise and looked inside. Water. Yeah, well, my throat got dry while I was yelling at my subordinates.       “Thank you.” — I say to Angela and drained my mug in a few gulps. — “And often do employees here like this… 'run around'?”       “More often than we would like, unfortunately.”       “And how did my predecessors catch these 'runners'?”       “Usually they were shot with a long-range EGO weapon.”       “Yeah? And if they, I mean, long-range weapons, don’t exist yet?”       “In that case, the most common command was to ignore them.”       “Um… why?”       “You see, sir, for reasons that are not entirely clear, wandering unstable employees, or, as you put it, “runners,” exhibit a higher rate of movement than when they are stable. And since the average speed of all active employees tends to fluctuate at the same level…”       ”…no one is bluntly able to keep up with the 'runners'.”       “Exactly. So I recommend that you waste no more time trying to pacify employee Jim and get back to your main task.”       “I think I’ll try to bring him to his senses after all.”       “Why? The loss of this employee is not critical.”       “Because, first of all, saving other people’s lives is the right thing to do, and secondly, I’ve already spent half an hour on this case, and now I want to see it through to the end.”       “Are you sure your idea is going to work?”       “To be honest, I’m not very sure, but I guess I’ll have to trust the best. I mean, it’s a pretty straightforward idea, isn’t it? How can you screw it up?”       Five Seven minutes later       “CATCH HIM ALREADY, YOU MORONS WITH BUTT-ARMS!… STAND AT THE DOOR, AT THE DOOR!… DAMN YOU ALL, HOW MUCH LONGER ARE YOU GOING TO DISGRACE THE HUMAN RACE?!”       I was unbelievably mad. The first attempt to catch Jim with some wire those retards had successfully shit out. Well, what else would you call it if they didn’t pull the freaking wire up in time? The second attempt could have been called a success, because Jim tripped over it, but almost immediately jumped up and literally slipped out of the clerks' grasp. And all those dumb-ass sheeps were doing was jumping around, waving their arms and darting past him. So Jim didn’t get caught, and I got mad.       “Gentlemen, aren’t you ashamed of yourselves right now? It’s a disgrace! Who the hell does that?!”       “Well, if you’re so smart, why don’t you show us how to do it?” — shouted Ian.       And that phrase made my head skip a beat. I stood up sharply, barely able to keep from throwing my mug at the wall, and went out.       “Sir, where are you going?” — There was a note of surprise in Angela’s voice. I slowed down at the door.       “You know, it seems it is true what the ancients said: 'If you want something done well, do it yourself'!” — I answered without looking back, and then hit the button and went out into the corridor.

***

      As I entered the hall, I looked around at everyone there. I don’t know if it was because of filter or not, but the faces of the clerks were very similar, and if it weren’t for the different body complexities, I would have suspected them of being clones. The faces of the containment group were more… individual, kinda, but, like the clerks, there was nothing memorable about them. The only thing I could tell them all apart, perhaps, was their hairstyles.       I also turned out to be noticeably taller than everyone else. Most of them were about my elbow height, and the tallest of them was barely up to my shoulders. It was an unexpected discovery, to be honest. I remember being quite tall in my previous life, but it was especially striking here.       So, all these unmemorable faces are now looking at me with a mixture of utter amazement, complete incomprehension, and a touch of fear. I, in turn, am looking at them with a disgruntled face and condemnation in my eyes, and in my head I’m just going, “What next?”.       Seriously, what fly bit me?! The realization that I might be doing something wrong hit me halfway here, and once I got there it was obvious to me that I didn’t know a sh*t of why I was doing here. What the hell?! Am I always this impulsive? No, it’s all the consequences of the possession this body, that’s what it is!       No, as a matter of fact, I have an idea of what to do. It came just as I was halfway through. I’m just not sure it’ll work, or that it’s even worth getting out of my not-so-cozy but completely safe office… All right, all right, doubts away! Now that I’m here, go ahead and finish the job! Preferably — without embarrassing yourself at the same time… Let’s take a deep breath…       “So, ladies and gentlemen, what can I tell you all? You’re all so inept and unprofessional that you can’t do the simplest task. Because of this, the Manager himself was forced to come to you to personally solve the problem, which, as far as I know, was ne-ver e-ver done in these walls. For which I congratulate you all: It’s not every day you set a new anti-record.”       As I spoke, I just as leisurely began to walk through the crowd, keeping a disgruntled expression on my face and looking into the eyes of the employees. I don’t know if that made them pale or not, but they looked at me like rabbits at anaconda. Das ist good, but I’m not here to intimidate everyone.       Meanwhile, I walked over to Ian and looked into his eyes. He seems to be trying not to breathe at all. But of course, because the higher-ups deigned to get their butt out of the chair and come here personally just after his phrase, clearly said rashly. That’s right, let him fear retribution! He doesn’t need to know that I don’t give a damn about him.       I turn my gaze to his right hand. More specifically, the rod shaped like a cross that Ian is holding. I take that cross and pull it toward me. Ian doesn’t give it up. I pull again, but noticeably harder, and snatch the rod from his hands, then inspect it demonstratively.       Oh, yes, I’m holding a real EGO in my hand! Contrary to expectation, I felt no surge of strength or energy. I didn’t feel anything at all. Although… no, I do feel that something has changed. It’s… hard to put into words. To put it simply, I suddenly realized that I have might. And it didn’t come out of nowhere, but had always been there, I just didn’t know it, didn’t see it and didn’t notice it. And this knowledge is taken for granted.       Meanwhile, I approached one of the doors. Behind it I could barely hear poor Jim’s approaching scream. I stood at the door and, taking the rod like a baseball bat, swung for the punch. I had no doubt whether I would miss or hit. I just knew I was going to hit.       And then a screaming Jim runs into the hall, and…       “Yee-ha!” — …and I immediately hit him over the head with all my might. There’s a bright white flash with a little pop at the point of impact. Jim is immediately on the floor and seems to pass out. Great, he finally got his head kicked in, so now it’s up to me to decide if he needs more or if he’s fine.       I squat down beside Jim and gently turn him onto his back. He groans, but doesn’t scream, which is good.       “Hey, Jimmy, wake up!” — I patted his cheeks and he opened his eyes. — “You hear me, buddy?” — I snapped my fingers against his face.       “Y-yeah…” — He sounded a little weak. Did I hit him too hard?       “How many fingers do you see?”       “S-six…” -although there are actually two. -"Eh… I mean, two.” — Phew, good, it doesn’t seem to be anything serious. I’d hate to find out I’d damaged his brain or something.       “Okay, lie down for now.” — I stood up and looked around again. If I were asked to describe the faces of those present in two word, it would be 'freaking astonished'.       “I was asked to show you how to do it.” — I glanced around the crowd and stopped at Ian. — “Well, there! Did everyone see everything?”       “Yes, sir!” — The crowd responded in surprisingly synchronized chorus.       “Actually, in a good way, I should fire you all for incompetence… but I’m kind today.”       The whole crowd exhaled in unison.       “All right, that’s it, show’s over, back to work! Mary, stay with Jim until he recovers. Peter to Beast for Suppression, Ian to Skull for Attachment. That’s it, back to job!” — I handed Ian his cross and walked proudly away toward my office.       It wasn’t until I was out of the hall that I could catch my breath. I remember I said that my acting skills leave much to be desired? Forget it! A great actor had died in me!.. Okay, I’m kidding, Stanislavskiy probably would have said, “I don’t believe it,” but what I gave them was enough for these jerks. Yeah, I impressed them a lot, all that’s left to understand is why I needed this performance in the first place. And I don’t know! Damn, again I went where I was not asked! What kind of recklessness is this? Where does it come from? I’ve always been a prudent man, unlike the previous master of… this… body… Hey. I just now realized. “A” had mental problems, didn’t he? I mean, no one in their right mind would do what he did, right? And I’m in his body now…       Does that mean I don’t have to be afraid of going crazy in this place because I’m already crazy…?       Nah, I’m just winding myself up. Well, okay, I’ve become more impulsive and more temperamental, that’s a fact, but that doesn’t mean I have a problem with my head, right? So don’t get all winded up and don’t think about it. I don’t need to think about it. Don’t think about it. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT, I SAID!…       Okay, that’s it, I’m before my office now. Oh, yeah, Angela’s there… she’s probably going to want to gargle with my brain. All right, I’ll get over it somehow.       I walked into the office. Angela was standing next to my chair, facing the monitors. I had a bad feeling about this…       “You know, Manager,” — I didn’t hear any displeasure in her voice, but for some reason it still felt cold inside. — “I must admit that it was… impressive. Yes, that’s the best word for it. It’s not every day you get to see the Manager personally solve problems that the rest of the staff couldn’t. However, the reasons for your action escape my comprehension a little.”       “What’s there to comprehense? I just got tired of looking at this mess, so I went to fix it.” — I walked around Angela and stood on the other side of the chair, but I didn’t sit down.       “Is that so? And you realize that you have committed at least six violations?” — She turned to me.       “I suppose I should go and pack my stuff?” — I half-jokingly asked, looking at the screens. Jim is sitting in the hall, with Mary next to him, the work at the abnormalities is still going on. All is quiet there…       “In a good way, you should be fired for that… but I’m being kind today.”       “Heh, what a stupid joke that is.”       “What makes you think it’s a joke?”       “Because if these violations were really serious, I’d go pack my bags regardless of your mood.”       “I see you’re not that easy to fool. You know, as long as you do your job, I won’t have any trouble turning a blind eye to some of your… liberties. But, sir,” — she opened her eyes, —       “please don’t be so reckless again.”       ”…I don’t like making promises, especially if I’m not sure I can keep them.”       There was a brief pause. Angela looked into my eyes, and I looked into hers. They say that eyes are the mirror of the soul. That you can tell by them who their owner is and what he’s thinking. I never could. And now, looking into those faintly glowing golden eyes with the unusual iris pattern, I can say only two things with certainty: they don’t belong to a human and they are very beautiful. What are you thinking about after all?       “And yet, please, be careful, sir.” — Angela finally closed her eyes.       “I will make an effort.”

***

      The rest of the day passed without incident. Jim recovered fairly quickly and went back to work, no one else panicked, and though everyone was walking around dumbfounded, the day had ended quite successfully.       But the worry didn’t leave me. Though I try not to think about it, but… How did this possession affect me? Had it affected me at all? Have I always been this impulsive? Given my amnesia, I couldn’t come to a definite conclusion.       At some point I gave up and decided to forget about this problem. To hell with it! Don’t I have enough to worry about? I just need more self-control. Yeah, and where do I get it? Should I ask Angela for it? Why not? She’s got a lot of self-control, let her share it to me. She’ll put it in a bottle, and I’ll take three tablespoons a day, like a mixture, hehe…       Unwittingly picturing Angela in nurse’s uniform giving me “a spoonful of mixtures for my mother,” my mood jumped up considerably. I didn’t want to think about trouble, so I don’t think about it. I try, at least…