This wasn’t what the Thief wanted. In this new state, he could see in multiple directions at once. He could see not just from the front, but also from the sides and back. The added sight played havoc with his vision, constantly showing his collarbone and hair which refused to stay out of the way. With practice, he was able to ignore certain visual stimuli, and realized that with this new shape, even with severe restrictions, he could see in a 360 arc with the angles cut out.
By this point, the Thief no longer cared about gaining access to private information. All that mattered now was getting out of this accursed place. This six-sided cube-headed mark would be his brand of shame, but it’d be worth it just to leave. But even that mercy was denied him. For when he tried to sneak out, he was either accosted by a guard or repelled by some impenetrable force he couldn’t see.
The Thief attempted multiple times to leave, but was always singled out among the crowd. From all appearances, he didn’t seem to be doing anything any differently from anybody else. He followed their footsteps, their motions, their mannerisms exactly, and was still being held back. The added visual senses were no help in seeing why he was barred from leaving. It was already after hours, and long after everyone else had left, he was still trapped within the Building.
It was clear that they instinctively knew he didn’t belong, and treated him accordingly, openly expressing their hostility, yet wouldn’t allow him the opportunity to leave. He knew he was doing something wrong, he just didn’t know what. And to make matters worse, no one would tell him. Attempts to find out were resoundingly rebuffed.
“Why won’t you let me leave?”
“You KNOW why.”
The Thief made his way back to his Terminal. Every attempt to try to get away only wound up getting him further sunk in. He decided to try to make sense of the surrounding instruments as best as he could tell. As he was examining the unexplored realms surrounding the dormant automation of the Worker’s station, there was a rapping noise on the wall from behind. “I’ve got a package for you.”
Half an hour ago at the Dirt Farm, the Worker stamped the mail he’d picked up earlier while trading between unrelated clients, and had instructed the Driver’s to move to the front of his workplace while he changed out of his regular clothes into a Deliveryman’s. “Wait here, this shouldn’t take too long,” he notified the Complainer as he stepped out to greet the Doorman.
“I have an package for one of your employees.”
“It’s late. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“It’s very important. I was told under no uncertain terms to deliver this personally.”
“I’m sorry, but I simply can’t let you in without a signed signature from one of our employees.”
“Will this do?”
The Doorman stared incomprehensibly at the authentic signature. How did he get this? By all rights, it normally should’ve taken three days to go through the proper channels before acquiring this!
The Worker knew from experience that it would take some time to get past the front entrance, so he forwarded his signature via a wrapped package personally addressed to himself in case something like this happened.
“My Client was very insistent on the matter. I cautioned him against doing so, but still… is this going to be a problem?”
“You bet it will!” The Doorman dialed a nearby phone. “We can’t have our employees giving out their signatures willy-nilly just to save time! They could be victim to outside influence and never know it!” He put the receiver to his mouth. “Hello? Is No. 43#64L in? I have an item and complaint for him.” The Doorman gave the impression of responding to an unresponsive line along the likes of, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh,” responding a little too quickly. “He says he’s too busy to talk to mere outsiders.”
“May I speak with him?”
The Doorman ripped the cable out of the receiver. “The connection’s been lost.”
“You could get rid of me faster if I could deliver this faster.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Direct contact with my Client available to your liking.”
“Deal,” the Doorman responded, accepting the card, not even noticing the signature and face on the card matched the Deliveryman’s.
As the Worker ventured inside, he was filled with resentment that even after all these years of admittance, the Doorman refused to recognize him. He looked forward to the day when the Doorman would rue forgetting him. Seeing his anguished expression would be worth the numerous times he failed to remember him even once.
The Thief reacted in shock at seeing the familiar face of the Worker standing right before him. “It’s… you.”
“You’ve been up to a lot of trouble in my absence.”
“How… what are you doing here?”
“Delivering a package to myself, unless you’d still like to be me?”
“No!”
“Very few would. Get out of my chair.” He moved forward, looking at the Terminal. “You’ve done a great deal of damage, but nothing that can’t be undone. I’ll help you get out of here. I can even restore your face if you wish.”
“You’d do that? Even after all I did?”
“In exchange, I ask for a favor. Once you’re free, spread the word that I’m an easy mark.”
“That’s it? Is that all?”
The Worker got to work making corrections, flicking through the numerous accidental self-imposed interference with astonishing speed. The Thief paid close attention to the Worker’s habits. Who knew when he’d ever get the chance to see a veteran in action again? Even with inside knowledge, he still couldn’t understand half of what the Worker was doing, and his casual talking while repairing didn’t help.
“I really must thank people like you. You’re a tremendous help. There’s so many unnecessary obstacles that makes getting the simplest things done a chore. I make a bigger difference out there than I do in here. Imagination just shrivels up in here.”
On the monitors, the three footed twenty legged apparition in a garish plaid coat was still involved with the Lost and Found, and… there was a glitchy image wandering right outside the Worker’s workspace? The Thief turned around and the Management peeked in, covertly saying a few choice words:
[aRe YoU nOt WhO yOu SaY YoU aRe?]
[cOnSeQuEnCeS.]
[cOuLd bE tRoUbLe.]
[cAn’T hAvE mOrE tHaN oNe.]
And the Management left, leaving the Thief to consider the nature of those words.
The Worker completely missed this interaction, being mainly engaged looking over the damage the Thief had done, and was still talking to himself. “Once you’re in a Government position, it’s practically impossible to get fired. Oh sure, they might shuffle you around, and put in another position, but ultimately, once you’re in, you’re in for life.”
It was only from noticing a moving shadowy reflection off the screen, that he just barely managed to dodge a glancing blow that would’ve crippled him. “What are you doing?”
The Thief was holding a blunt instrument between his hands. “I can’t afford to be found out. If it’s a choice between you reporting my actions and the higher-ups seeing the difference, I’ll take my chances.”
“No, you don’t understand. I wouldn’t tell on - ”
“You’re the only proof left that you really exist.”
“You can’t possibly keep up this charade for so long!”
“I’ve managed quite well until now.”
The Worker looked at the Thief. Unlike everybody he’d encountered, this wasn’t a man he could reason with. He had reached levels of desperation that had reduced him to this state. All semblance of sanity had gone out the window, leaving only survival in its wake. But that didn’t mean the Worker was limited in his bag of tricks. Backing off, he made his way backwards until he pulled the switch for the fire alarm.
Nothing registered.
“First thing I tried.” the Thief replied.
It slowly dawned on the Worker what just happened. Due to numerous false alarms to empty the building on an employee’s whim, the alarm only worked when there was an actual fire. In the back of his mind, the Worker dimly wondered why none of the previous thieves had ever taken advantage of this obvious exit before. And since he was a law-abiding citizen, had never decided to test out this fatal flaw in the system until now.
The Thief closed in the kill, cornering the Worker at a narrow section of hallway, and it looked like he was caught, until the rear wall faded away and popped back up again, and the Worker ran down the otherwise unaccessible fire escape. The Thief looked closer, revealing a doorway he couldn’t possibly open.
“How did…? Oh, very very sneaky!” Rather than use his own invalid ID, the Worker had used his visitor’s pass to bypass the barrier. The Thief couldn’t follow through, but there were still ways to make sure the Worker didn’t get out.
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