Corporate Galactic - 1. Jared

Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. The stress was getting to him. He had been preparing for the past few years, but today was his shot. Peering through the cafeteria window, he saw the demonstrations being set up in the gymnasium.

Status Day.

In the final weeks of his primary education, he dreaded this very day; the day where everyone who hadn’t been accepted into secondary schools were to compete for ethic status in front of representatives. Glancing at his tray, he pushed the slop away.

“Not going to eat, Vernier?”

Craning his head, he saw Instructor Garlhouse turning the table’s corner. “No, sir. I need to be ready to go in an hour.”

The mustached man flicked his brow up and nodded. “Makes sense. Can’t perform on a full stomach. That’ll slow you down.” The two scanned the fairly small cafeteria. “Looks like your classmates don’t give a damn.”

Jared swallowed. Many of the students were eating their food, but he didn’t take the bait. “Still, can’t count them out, sir.”

“You were always smart, kid. Just not in the way that counted,” muttered Garlhouse. “I’ve heard from the physical instructor you’ve been out-working everyone in class. For what it’s valued, I think you got a damned-good shot at a career."

The man clapped Jared’s shoulder and walked away. The student huffed, taking the remark half-seriously. He eyed one of the freshmen sitting down the table from him. The girl was staring at his tray, so he picked it up and set it on top of her clean one. “Eat.”

She bit her lip and thanked him.

He whispered, “Either study hard, or find an area of expertise. Don’t be like the idiots that settle, okay?”

“I… I will. Thank you.”

Jared walked away with a smile on his face and aimed for the stairs. He sighed and muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”

***

Sitting on the bleachers, he examined the demonstrations from the various companies. Having practiced all but a few of the categories, Jared felt confident. He saw a few wooden barrels being rolled with a logo from the western district. Baffled by their appearance, he examined the men. One seemed built like a lumberjack, despite his suited appearance. The other was slim. Jared assumed the demonstration would involve a physical test.

Another table was set up further away that caught Jared’s eye. A suited woman carried a box over and brought out several pieces of glassware. Once several lines were placed, she covered them with a veil, masking them.

“Spotters.” An unfamiliar man climbed the stairway and sat next to Jared. “You’re not like the rest of your classmates, are you?”

Jared’s heart raced. He quickly shook his head. “N-no, sir.”

The younger man chuckled and loosened his tie. “No need for formality. I already see your worth. While everyone else eats and gathers strength, you’re down here doing reconnaissance. All I need to know is your skills.”

Being judged by a representative unnerved the student as he stayed rigid. “I’ve practiced stacking and spotting at home, but I haven’t seen barrels like those. They seem heavy and weird, but I think I can handle them.”

“So what would you like to do with your life?”

“I…” The question threw him off. He never thought about what pleased him. It was always about being able to copy a task and perfect it. Was this a trick question? He was told the representatives can be a little tricky with their studies. Jared swallowed. “Can I ask what you have to offer?”

The man grinned and whispered, “Intellect. Very interesting. My company exports various cleaning goods both on and off-planet. Soaps of all kinds and Galactic-safe chemicals. There are many different jobs on company property that may interest you.”

“What… where is your demonstration at?” Jared hated the question as it left his lips. “I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“Relax, relax!” The gentleness in the representative’s voice soothed Jared’s self-qualms. “Did you see me bring a set?”

Jared shook his head.

“Do you see me down there preparing one?”

Once again, Jared gestured.

“My demonstration’s been prepared for me. All I ask of you is to participate in every event here.”

“E-every one?” The student understood. The man didn’t bring one because he could use the other companies’ and merely watch!

The representative tightened his tie once more. “Don’t get this wrong, young man. I’ve already decided I’ll be offering you a contract. The only deciding factor I have to make is your job choice list and your pay rate. What you do out there will be the only material for me to judge from.”

As the man walked away, Jared couldn’t calm down. The man’s offer was bizarre and against everything his status instructors taught him. The representatives weren’t supposed to do that! No offers until after a performance, no information on their company, and certainly no conversation until the student approached the demonstration.

Staring at the gray suit leaving the gym, Jared could only come up with one solution. “He’s from a big one,” he whispered.

That meant one thing. He needed to succeed!

The single tone echoed in the room, signaling the start of the event. He stood and scanned the demonstrations available. Jared thought about how to proceed, knowing he had to participate in every one of them.

Seven were on display: two physical activities, two spotting, one with a taped runway, one with a representative at a table with a keyboard and tablet, and the last behind a draped curtain. He cursed under his breath. There was no way of knowing what the task could be.

Jared made an impromptu plan. He knew to start and end with a physical activity, as the first would help his brain work when spotting. As he reached the floor, several other classmates were aiming for various tables. To optimize his chances, he waited. One by one, he watched as the students performed for the different representatives, studying the attempts.

Satisfied with the knowledge gained, he proceeded to the first table. He chuffed when learning it was for a local company position. The representative motioned from his mobile to send Jared’s a planogram of how the displayed shelf was to be stocked. After studying it for the allotted thirty seconds, he pounced at the man’s signal. With enough dexterity, Jared quickly read the box labels, selected the correct cases, and stocked them. He was nearly fooled by the two cases that were not listed in the diagram. At the man’s word, he stopped and was evaluated.

“Fastest I’ve seen in a year!” exclaimed the representative. He tapped on the mobile a few times before swiping over an offer to Jared. “Normally, I don’t offer that kind of pay, but you’d be able to replace two of my slower workers. Make sure you consider it.”

Jared skimmed the contract after politely leaving. The contract was not a lie. “Damn. I could afford tier-two housing immediately.” He stowed it away in a newly-created folder in his cloud drive and proceeded to a spotting task.

The tasks were simple, yet straining. As he expected, the glassware demonstration gave him a little trouble, but Jared spotted the faulty glass handles from their connecting points fairly quickly. After five sets of spotting, he earned another contract offer on the spot. It didn’t compare to the store’s, but this one had a year’s expiration. He could come back to it should the stocking job not pan out.

After the remaining spotting table, he aced the runway demonstration as he balanced weights on a waiter’s platter in a speedy fashion. Jared’s confidence increased but blew it off. He couldn’t risk being cocky, especially with the mystery curtain lurking ahead. With three standing offers, he took a deep breath and approached the curtain.

He couldn’t figure out why none of the students were talking about it. Those that participated in it chose not to reveal the contents. One of the instructors’ lessons came to mind. Some companies demanded secrecy and would do anything to keep their operations classified. According to the teachers, when Status Days are in effect, the representatives can make the interested students sign a non-disclosure agreement, but only after they achieve a set amount of contracts for the school’s event.

When asked, Jared showed the woman his three offers and received the NDA in return. The agreement stated that upon signing, his account would be given two thousand credits. The student chewed on his cheek. The weekly pay rate from the first spotting demonstration was two hundred credits, and a typical tier-one housing unit ran for three hundred a month. Any student who knew about the NDA would surely take the offer, just for the money.

“Can I think about this?”

The middle-aged woman smiled and flicked a hand on her mobile, sending Jared another form. “You’re the first to ask that. You’re smarter than these beat-neck snots, aren’t you.”

Thinking of the mysterious representative on the balcony, Jared thought she might be acting in a similar way. “I… I wouldn’t say I’m smarter. Just want to think about my options.”

“I saw that one talking to you earlier. He probably sees you as the cash cow here. Forget the NDA, just look over the contract and come back when you have questions.” Her smile seemed genuine, but Jared meekly showed his appreciation and walked away to view his newest offer.

He saw the numbers but had a difficult time believing them. He turned to the representative, who looked up from speaking with another student. She nodded with the same grin.

Taking a small break, Jared sat down on the first available bleacher. A thousand credits per week. He was speechless! Scrolling through the document, there wasn’t much information on the company. “They’re one of the secret ones, that’s for damn sure!” There wasn’t a listed district or moving specifications, and the only description for the position was the word, ‘surveillance.’

Did that mean surveilling a factory or warehouse? What kind of job was this? Scratching through his thin hair, Jared tried to make sense of everything. Why would two strange representatives come to their dinky rural settlement? One noticed him right away, then the other shifted gears when he asked a simple question. He threw out the notion of them being interested in him from the get-go, then minimized the new offer and continued his route.

The keyboard demonstration went well enough to earn another contract, but like the glassware representative, the pay rate was meager. Lastly, Jared came to the barrel company. One of the two men, the brawnier of them, rested a foot on the barrel’s side. “Let me guess. Never seen a barrel like the rest of your class?”

Jared shook his head. “Not before today, but I watched several of them before coming over.”

The muscled man stepped down with a laugh. “At least someone did their homework. You look the part for the job. We fill, age, and pour these with wine back in Califoregon.”

“Would you like to perform?” asked the skinnier one.

Jared nodded and was shown the starting line. He was to roll the first barrel, stop it at the platform, lift and position it, then repeat the process with the second one. Rolling his shoulders, he gave the barrel a push to test the weight. “This is heavy! About… five hundred pounds?”

“Six, but good estimation.”

Jared grimaced. He knew it would roll, but to lift on the platform would be murder on his muscles. He uttered, “No, that’s not the way.”

The slender suit’s smile grew slightly. “Come again?”

“No one can lift this up on a pallet like you want. A machine is needed.” Jared was sure. “This task is impossible.”

The representatives looked at one another and cracked a grin. The slender one pulled a mobile, tapped it a few times, and sent Jared an offer. “It took thirty-seven to try, but you’re the only one to figure it out beforehand. You’re correct; we use forklifts to stack them, but they rest on their sides in the racks. Our company offers competitive wages and expense-free moving, if you’re interested.”

Jared toothily grinned, but not from the man’s offer. He had completed all seven demonstrations, and received offers from each one! Before walking away, he opened his newest contract. The wine company was searching for warehouse employees to manage barrel movement, both on physical rolling tracks, automated ones, and forklifts. The credit offer wasn’t as spectacular as the curtain lady’s, but enough to put all the others to shame.

“Still,” he whispered. Looking up to the balcony, he spotted the gray suit talking on a mobile. Taking the stairwell, Jared’s heart pounded. An eight contract was within his grasp, but was the effort worth it? He had to perform seven different demonstrations to receive it. It had to be. If it wasn’t, he still had the others to consider, and two of them were calling to him.

Reaching the landing, he saw the final representative get up from his seat and met Jared halfway. “I saw all seven, and if I’m not mistaken, you got all of them?”

“Y-yes.”

The man smirked. “And you didn’t choose any of them. Why?”

“I wasn’t done with all of the demonstrations. I… I wanted to see your offer, sir.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re the only one to get one from the rep in the corner; the woman with the red curtain. Surely that was a hefty offer.”

Considering the contents of the form, Jared agreed. “But there wasn’t enough information. I don’t know what the job is, other than surveillance.”

Still smiling, the man turned and waved for Jared to follow. They both sat down, overseeing the remnants of Status Day. “Did any of them ask you for your name?”

“No,” Jared’s apprehension of the man rose. “I was told by the instructors they don’t ask for names until we agree on a contract.”

He jolted as the suit laughed. “What a joke! This area’s crazy if you ask me. How can someone get a worker if they don’t ask for their name?

“What is it, kid?”

“J-Jared,” he stammered. “Jared Vernier.”

“Well, Jared Vernier, I’m Thompson Balo. As promised, here’s your contract offer.” Thompson flicked a finger on his mobile.

The file loaded and Jared opened it immediately, only to stop after he read the first line. He blinked and read it again. “Oc… Oceanic Organization?”

Thompson slapped Jared’s knee, forcing the student to focus. “Everything good, Jared?”

Darting between Thompson and the contract, Jared swallowed hard. “I thought you said your company sold soaps?”

“We do, but that’s just a small portion of what we sell. I can’t just waltz into a Status Day event and set up shop. I’d be wasting my time!” Pocketing his hands, Thompson leaned back. “Not going to lie, I thought being sent here was a joke, until I saw you. You’re survival smart, Jared. You see the gold at the end of the path less traveled.

“Go on! Finish reading the offers.”

Just as he looked back at the form, Jared caught what Thompson had just said. “Offers? As in more?”

“Just two. One’s the company standard. Includes evaluation and assessment of preferred jobs, a tour of your division placement’s property, each of the different housing tier models, the shopping pavilion, and a thousand credit spending spree on signing.”

Thompson sat up and pivoted in his seat. “The other’s also from the company, but from my direct supervisor. She noticed what kind of workers I bring in and told me to look for someone who can judge people like I can. That second offer… that’s to be my intern.”

“What?” Swiftly flipping through his files, Jared read as fast as possible. “Your intern? I’d… I’d be learning what you do?”

“Don’t think I’m offering that willy-nilly. I saw you; both out there, and before Status Day started. You see and read things like no one else. That barrel couldn’t be lifted, yet every snot-nosed kid tried. The curtain rep only gave you an offer.” Thompson slapped Jared’s arm. “You’re what I’m looking for because you see the world like I do.”

Reality hit Jared hard. He saw the job title on the contract. “Representative.”

“That is, if you accept.”

***

Departing the hover shuttle, Jared checked his mobile. He was one taxi ride away from his new home. With enough credits tucked away from his birthdays, he had enough for one month's rent in a tier-one pod. Once he collected his first few paychecks, he could upgrade.

But he made it to the Oceanic District capital. Hoisting his duffel over a shoulder, he trekked to the first available hailing station. The big city intimidated him, but the constant flow of people paid him no mind. Waiting in the line, he converted his home district's credits to Oceanic's currency. The transfer gave him more credits, but that just meant everything would be more expensive than back in Minnesota.

A flurry of taxis slowed to a stop in front of the crowd. Jared took the first one he could and plopped in the backseat. Seeing the zooming crafts whiz past through the cab windows was startling. "Not from a big city, eh?"

"I, er… no."

The driver smirked. "You get used to it, kid. Got yourself a job yet? You look like you haven't gotten your feet wet yet."

"Yeah, got my offer a few days ago. I'm from Minnesota. Small town."

"Nailed a job with Oceanic? Must've put on a show then! Where ya startin'? Processing? Retail? One of the grub houses?"

Jared smiled as his cheeks heated. "I'm going to be an intern." Seeing the driver's brow furrow in the rearview, he worried if he said something wrong. "I'm sorry. Did I say something?"

"Nah, kid! Just never heard of an internship. What kind of work are ya doing?"

"I'm learning to be a representative."

The man visibly shook and gasped, "A-a rep! Shit sir, I didn't mean to be disrespectful!"

Jared waved his hands out. "N-no, you weren't. If anything, I'm grateful for your service." Wanting to calm down his driver, he thought of a way. "What's your name?"

"Frederick, sir."

The formal speech grew tiresome. "I'm not a sir. You're old enough to be my dad. I really appreciate your service, Frederick."

His words must have meant something as Frederick relaxed. He was still tense, but Jared assumed it was apprehensiveness. The remaining ride was silent and short. Frederick stated they had arrived, so Jared tapped his mobile and transferred the proper credits with a tip to the cab's point-of-sale.

Getting out, Jared admired the clean glass of the building in front of him. The engraved steel sign confirmed he was in the right place. "Oceanic Organization Offices," he whispered. From Thompson's email, all paper-pushers and various officials operated from here. Walking in, he was greeted by a receptionist. After providing him with information, the man gave Jared directions towards the maglift.

Reaching the migration office, he completed the proper forms to be a permanent citizen of the district and was given rights to select a rental. From his initial plan, Jared picked out a tier-one, as his intentions were to save up money for a few months. He checked his mobile’s GPS and found the Living Quarter to be within walking distance. “I’ll have to look into a bike or gravboard.” Following the computer’s directions, he did his best to memorize the area. After examining the area on his mobile, tiers one and two were in the same area, but Three and Four ranged across the city and nearby rural areas. Maybe after he created a stash of credits, those would be within his budget.

He entered the Living Quarter’s office and was assigned a pod. Jared wasn’t looking forward to the arrangement, but if his assumptions were correct, being a representative meant plenty of travel. The long and tall wall of pod entrances was daunting, but his instructors’ lessons served him well. They warned of the potential culture shock between their rural settlement and a larger one, and the size of Oceanic’s pod housing unnerved Jared. After walking for several minutes, he found his new home.

Jared carried his duffel by the shoulder strap and climbed the metal rungs. Stepping onto the ledge, he ducked and set his bag down. Cramped and devoid of space, the economical space was for the minimalistic souls who needed very little. Several community spaces were littered throughout the building, and with several staff members, they stayed fairly clean. Sitting up on the bed, his head barely grazed the ceiling.

With his clothes and belongings stowed away in the drawers underneath the bed, he laid down on the pad. Cushioning his head with an arm, Jared couldn’t help but smile. He’d done it. He landed a job, and it felt like the right direction for him. Setting a timer, Jared closed his eyes and drifted off.