Are you comfortable?
…
"Mostly" the man answered, leaning back as the chair groaned, his hands fidgeting across the table, across the dull silver reflecting the fluorescent light's humming from above. It was better than the scrap yards or the dusty grounds of lower off-world and the mine veins that'd caked his lungs in soot. The air here was cleaner, customary for a corp, so, sighing after a moment as he wheezed through a breath, the question itself felt rhetorical because of course he was comfortable, he was the most comfortable he'd ever been and if he wasn't, who'd really care?
The intercom filled with static again, briefly this time as the subtle chatters that followed with it thrummed beneath the white noise, his eyes wandering the room as it did, plain grey walls, bare of any defining features and nearly identical to the last. It was empty in here, save for the desk, the chair and himself…and as his eyes continued to wander, stopping only where the thick grey walls made way for a pane of opaque glass, he stared at himself, unable to see through it but those behind it surely could, staring at him, analyzing him as he glanced back at the table, that noise softening again and smoothening out to the voice he now found so familiar, Good, he heard them, sitting up whilst it continued.
You served ten years under Brignestone Mining operations, another seven operating on the Venus Coalition before three years of inactivity thus far, is that correct?
"Yes"
The voice hummed, silent for a moment.
You're thirty seven..
Ahh, right. That sounded desperate, seventeen years of work to still want a place here. Were they in need of someone younger? The ad never mentioned an age requirement but somethings didn't need to be said out loud, you had to infer it for yourself, read between the lines before wasting your time.
"I get things done…" He mumbled, fidgeting with his hands as he frowned, "I wasn't laid off because of bad work, drones do my job now but I was useful then…"
Everyone said that, didn't they? Placed themselves down as tools, good tools and had to act none the wiser. Put him to work like all the others did, have him get the job done and leave each other alone. That was the sentiment, that's how it was supposed to be.
He sighed as the voice seemed to nod, he imagined they'd flip a page right about now, write something down or stare at him if they were here but all he had was the walls to look at instead, Dedication...an admirable quality
Smiling, he straightened again, the words "Thanks" flowing past his lips easily. Sometimes, sometimes though, you had to play the part. Stand right next to them like you were buds, you weren't an open book but you were halfway there. You let them read some of it because they wanted honesty and they could pry it from you too, seated here as you were, as the world was. You needed them far more than they needed you…
The static chimed, somehow he felt the voice had changed somewhat when the next question arrived, What principles do you follow?
The question echoed, furrowing his brows into a frown where his hands stiffened. He'd heard this one before, he'd heard it countless times before. "What principles do I follow…" he mused to himself, shifting in his seat. The answer was almost second nature, "What principles does the company follow?"
The room went quiet, the electrical buzz of the fluorescent lights filling in between it before the voice came over again, And your goals?
He didn't think on it, "Staying…I want..to stay"
There seemed to be a light pause there, static again, the subtle change again. What brought you to this programme?
….
…
'What brought me here…?' She scoffed.
He grumbled something whilst kicking his feet onto the table, "Tsk, why else?"
He'd been honest enough, he didn't want to be honest again but…
They glared.
""I need a job""