Don't Press the Red X

Don’t Press the Red X

  Copyright 2014 David S Reynolds

  Cover by David S Reynolds

  Discover other titles by David S Reynolds at https://davidsreynolds.weebly.com

  Or by following him on Twitter @davidsreynolds1

  And on Facebook at Renaissance Redneck Media

  Don’t Press the Red X

  Thank you

  Aware (preview)

  Don’t Press the Red X

  By

  David S Reynolds

  It was Bill’s first day at Amaranthine and he was confident in his work as he arrived. He reported ten minutes early to make a good first impression and even though he was fresh out of school he was top in his class. His instructors told him they had never seen anyone better than he was. The word prodigy was even tossed about a few times.

  That confidence was not to last. The security guard, a large red haired man with small forehead that sloped back accentuating his large nose, barely even looked at him as he arrived and proudly displayed his newly minted ID chip.

  “Hi!” Bill waved a greeting at the guard.

  The guard merely grunted and continued thumbing through the magazine he was reading.

  “I’m the new-” Bill started to say before he was cut off.

  “Don’t care,” came a slightly more intelligible grunt.

  At first Bill was angry at the guard but he decided to not let it get to him. “I’m supposed to report to Mr. Aoristic.”

  The guard looked up menacingly from his magazine, sized Bill up, and found him wanting. Without a sound the guard pointed at the staff interface kiosk at went back to his magazine.

  “Um, thanks.”

  Another grunt emanated from the guard that sounded suspiciously like bite me.

  OK, Bill thought to himself, I guess that’s what happens when you are uneducated and you know your job is about to be replaced by a robot. He went to the kiosk and looked up Mr. Aoristic and sent a message. All Bill could do now was wait. He looked around the reception area of his new workplace. A few plastic chairs were lined up along the wall opposite the guard’s desk. They blended in with the freshly painted off-white walls. The only color in the room was the blue and gray Amaranthine logo on the kiosk screen and the matching blue and gray uniform the guard wore. While it was bright, the light only accentuated the blandness. Bill started to understand the guard’s attitude. Oh well, he thought to himself, I guess the advanced computer mainframes I’ll be working on don’t really care about their surroundings. His thoughts turned inward as he pondered what his first project would be. Would he be fine tuning the new superconductors that Amaranthine had just developed? Or even more tantalizing, he would be working on the new fields opened up by the superconductors like levitation or artificial intelligence?

  A door opened and interrupted Bill’s thoughts. Bill didn’t know what to think of the old man that came through it. First off, he was short, barely over four feet tall. What little hair he had left was white and thin. His skin was the color of old leather and covered in wrinkles. Despite appearing to be ancient, the old man moved with the ease and grace of a gymnast as he crossed the floor towards Bill.

  “So,” a reedy voice pronounced, “you’re the new kid?”

  “Yes sir!” Bill reached out to shake the man’s hand. “You must be Mr. Aoristic.”

  A gnarled had grasped Bill’s with unexpected strength. “At least for today.”

  As Bill tried to understand that answer he found himself be sized up for the second time with an even more critical eye than the guard had. Unlike the guard however, Mr. Aoristic seemed to be delaying judgment. It still made Bill uncomfortable.

  “Where is Mr. Watkin?”

  “Once Mr. Watkin selects a new hire his job is done.” The statement was made with an air of finality that encouraged no follow up.

  “Um,” Bill stammered, unsure of what to do next.

  “I supposed I should give you the tour.” Mr. Aoristic turned back to the door he had come from and said a greeting to the guard. “Having a good day Adam?”

  “Fine,” the guard grunted out as they passed.

  Bill was incredulous. It was one thing to be rude to someone you didn’t know but to be rude to an obviously senior company person? “How does that guy keep his job?”

  “You’ll have to forgive Adam,” Mr. Aoristic replied. “He has been with the company a very long time and he doesn’t like change. Add that to the fact that Mr. Usbeisns, the man you are replacing, was one of his favorites and you are going to have a rough transition. Give him some time.”

  “If you say so.” Bill was unconvinced.

  “Right.” Mr. Aoristic moved down the hall faster than Bill thought possible for a man of his advanced age. Bill had a hard time keeping up. “Your ID chip will get you through the door, so you really have no need to ever talk with Adam. I suggest you let him make the first move.” They stopped at a red door. “This is the lounge. You’ll find it has all the usual lounge stuff; fridge, microwave, tables. Any questions about the lounge?”

  Bill looked in the door. It was a small room with two tables and chairs that matched those in the entry. On a pristine white counter sat a surprisingly old microwave that had to be from the turn of the century. The only sound was the humming of a small refrigerator. It was as non-descript as the entry occupied by the grumpy Adam.

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” Mr. Aoristic took off down the hall and Bill struggled to catch up. “That’s R and D,” he pointed at a green door as they passed, “don’t go in there.”

  “Yes sir.” Bill tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he realized the implications of not being allowed into R and D.

  “Did you think you were going to start with the big stuff right away boy?” Mr. Aoristic stopped at a yellow door.

  “Well, I…”

  “I don’t care what your teachers think of your technical abilities at that school; around here you need to prove your trustworthiness first.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good.” Mr. Aoristic opened the door. “This is where you will work. Have a seat,” he said indicating the only chair in the room.

  Bill slowly entered the room. His new office. More like closet he thought as he looked around. The chair sat facing a computer terminal that was built into the wall. Unlike the equipment in the lounge this terminal was a state of the art touch screen. At least there is that he thought to himself as he sat down. The terminal came to life with the familiar blue and gray Amaranthine logo.

  “Your job is to keep an eye on this system for out of sequence code. We call it OOSC. If some OOSC pops up, you correct the date. Think you can handle that?”

  Bill thought for a moment. “How does the OOSC come about?”

  “You don’t need to know that, you just need to correct the dates.”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders. “Seems simple enough.”

  “Good. I’ll leave you to it.” Mr. Aoristic turned to leave and stopped. “One more thing. Don’t press the Red X when it appears on your thing.”

  “Thing?” Bill thought he heard the man wrong. “Did you call the terminal thing?”

  “Look kid, when you’ve been around as long as I have you can call stuff whatever you feel like calling it.” His voice took on a hard edge. “Just don’t press the Red X.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Mr. Aoristic turned and left, shutting the door behind him. Bill studied the screen in front of him as code started scrolling by and started watching for OOSC. On top of being nothing like he expected his new job to be, it was also rather mind numbing. Hours passed with the occasional OOSC, which he correcte
d almost without thinking. A few times the lights dimmed accompanied by a loud humming sound down the hall towards R and D. After a while he noticed that the OOSCs came by a few minutes before each dimming of the lights. At noon the screen suddenly flashed the message have a good lunch, see you in an hour and went blank.

  It took a moment for Bill’s brain to catch up with the sudden change as he sat staring at the now blank screen.

  “OK,” he said to himself, “I guess I’ll go to lunch now.”

  Bill poked his head into the hall and was surprised to see it was empty. As he was walking out he paused at the lounge and looked in. It also was empty. Maybe they go to lunch in shifts he thought to himself as he passed through the entry ignoring the ever silent Adam.

  His lunch hour was spent pondering his new job. He was dying to know what was going on in R and D. Whatever it was, it pulled a lot of power. He also wondered what the whole red X business was all about. Before he knew it the time had come for him to return to work. On his way in, again ignoring Adam, he saw the lights dim.

  Bill couldn’t help himself. He glanced up and down the hallway and ran to the green door. He could hear his heart pounding as he tried the door. It was not locked.

  Pushing the door open just a crack, he peak into the room. While it was bigger than his own office, he was surprised at how small the R and D department was. In the middle of the room was a short pedestal shrouded in light. On the pedestal was a small, smoking metal box. Just as a robotic arm started reaching for the box he heard beeping coming from his office.

  He realized that the program must have started without him and ran to his office in a panic. What he saw on the screen upon bursting into the room stopped him in his tracks.

  A Red X.

  The X transfixed Bill. As he stared at it he could hear Mr. Aoristic’s voice in his head. “Don’t press the Red X on the thing.”

  Should he press it? What would happen? The more he thought about it, the more Bill wanted to press the Red X. It called to him like a siren song, ever tempting, ever promising excitement and interest. The Red X seemed to pulse seductively like an attractive woman winking.

  His finger stretched towards the Red X. No, he thought to himself, I was told to not press the Red X.

  Bill steadied himself and turned away from the screen to close the door to his office and sat down in his chair. The Red X moved from the center of the screen as the code started to run across as it had done before. Bill tried to focus on the code as it went by, but the Red X was still there in the corner of his vision on the top right of the screen. He could hear its soft voice calling out to him, “Press me, press me.”

  “No!” Resisting temptation, he doubled his efforts to ignore the Red X on the corner of his screen.

  I’ll bet it’s a tattle tale that I wasn’t at my desk Bill thought to himself later as more mind numbing code went by. If it is, I bet I can erase it. I am, after all, a master programmer. What if the Red X is a true error in the coding? Bill could fix it and show off his true skills getting him out of this closet and doing something real.

  Ignored code went by as all of Bill’s attention became focused on the Red X. His hand gravitated towards it as if it had a mind of its own. With a final justification that he could repair anything involving computers and code Bill bridged the gap and pressed the Red X.

  And time stopped.