Chapter 8: Office Politics

“Morning, Yemi,” Steven said as he stepped into the lobby. The little male lifted his head from the flickering displays, giving his colleague a feather greeting.

“Welcome, Mister Zheng.”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you before our lesson,” Steven continued as he paused by the front desk. “I heard back from Joseph, and he says that he’s cool with meeting us tomorrow after work, as long as that fits with your schedule. Is that alright?”

“I will be able to make time for two or three hours of travel and leisure,” Yemi replied with an affirmative flush of green. “I will add it to my schedule if you can give me the specific time and coordinates.”

“Of course,” Steven said, pulling out his phone and relaying the details. “I’ll let Joseph know that we’re coming.”

“A restaurant?” Yemi asked as he entered the coordinates.

“Yeah, it’s a place Joseph likes to frequent. Don’t fill up at lunch!” he added, giving Yemi a wave before heading into the office.

He was greeted with the usual sight, bright sunlight spilling in through the massive windows to illuminate the white pastels and leafy greens of the multi-story complex, the walkways and platforms that balanced precariously above his head already swarming with Valbarans. He made his way through the cubicles, the sound of conversations and the gentle trickle of running water filling the air. It was hard to say whether he would ever get used to this, or whether any of it would ever feel routine, but it was hard to imagine it losing its novelty.

“Morning, big guy,” Ezi chimed as she saw the top of his head float past their divider.

“Morning, ladies,” he replied as he stepped into view around the corner.

“You’re looking sharp,” Ipal mused, leaning back in her seat as she examined him. He was wearing his fitted suit again, standing to attention as he waited for instructions. “You got pretty relaxed and casual last night, but now you’re back to being a prim and proper clerk.”

“I take my job seriously, Ma’am,” he replied with a smirk, eliciting a flutter of pink from her that he now understood all too well. “Making a good impression is as important as doing a good job.”

“It’s always important to differentiate work from play,” Mima added, giving him a smile that hearkened back to their conversation in the kitchen the night before.

“Hey, maybe we should get some formal clothes,” Ezi suggested as she turned to her flockmates. “They wear them up in resource allocation.”

“That’s because they’re executives, and we work on the office floor,” Ipal scoffed.

“But if we want clients to take us seriously, maybe we should dress the part,” Ezi insisted. “There’s no rule that says we can’t. After all, if you were an Earth’nay in a conference call, wouldn’t you expect to see people dressed more like him?”

“Dress for the job you want, not the one you have,” Steven added with a shrug.

“Our style of clothing will not improve or decrease our productivity,” Paza muttered, not deigning to look up from her work.

“That’s not the point, Paza,” Ezi chided. “I’m saying that if we’re going to be aiming for Earth’nay clients, we have an Earth’nay on hand to show us how to make a good impression. We should use him!”

“I think she wants to take you shopping,” Ipal sighed, giving Steven a weary glance.

“This could really give us an edge!” Ezi continued with a flutter of excitement. “Think about it. If the clients see Steven and see that we’re dressed more like he is, they’ll think we’re taking it way more seriously than the other competing companies. One of the reasons we got him was to better understand and communicate with Earth’nay clients.”

“What am I, a dog?” he grumbled.

“What’s a dog?” Tilli asked.

“Never mind,” he said. “What’s on the itinerary for today?”

“We have a quota to meet before lunch,” Ipal replied. “With those extra server cycles you managed to get us, we’ve been able to glean a lot of very valuable data from simulations. Paza has written up a series of changes that need to be made to the source code to improve its efficiency.”

“What about me?” Steven added.

“You’re going to be pitching our version of the software to the client,” Ipal said with a grin that exposed her sharp teeth.

“Shouldn’t you guys be doing that?” he asked, glancing between them apprehensively. “I mean, I don’t know anything about the software or how it offers advantages over its competitors. I don’t even really understand what it does.”

“We’ll teach you,” Ezi said. “Yes, taking into account your Earth’nay memory difficulties, naturally.”

“We want you to write a presentation, essentially,” Paza added. “The software is almost ready for practical trials, and if we can convince the client that our version is superior to those of competing companies, we may be able to move the project along.”

“You’ll highlight the features and advantages of the software, and you’ll present it to the buyers,” Ipal continued. “We think that having an Earth’nay make our case will be advantageous.”

“You know more about our prospective customers than anybody else in Kalahar,” Mima said. “Ezi is right – we should leverage that advantage.”

“I was an ice miner – I’ve never been in the Navy,” he protested as he crossed his arms. “I don’t know the first thing about point defense weapons.”

“Trust us – it will work,” Mima replied with a reassuring flutter of green. “We’ll be right there with you to answer any more technical questions, but we want you to be our spokesperson. Come, I will help you get started.”

“Okay, so this is where I think we should put the simulation results,” Steven said as he pointed to a section of the script. “I can make it punchy – really emphasize the success rate on those interceptions.”

“How is it coming along?” Paza asked, turning away from her work for a moment to examine Steven’s display. Mima and Ipal were seated beside him, helping him with the more technical details of the project.

“He comes up with ideas very quickly, I’ll give him that,” Ipal chuckled. “We keep having to stop him so we can reach consensus.”

“I’m learning about the software as I go,” Steven replied, leaning back in his seat. Yemi had delivered another human-sized chair, so work was a little more comfortable today. “I’m far from an expert, but based on the results I’m seeing, these LPDs are much better at intercepting certain kinds of threats than the CIWS guns the UNN currently uses. We really need to focus on the raw numbers and emphasize their strengths. I may not know anything about lasers, but I know plenty about statistical analysis. If the company I used to work for could increase the efficiency of their waste processing plants by even ten percent, they’d jump at the chance.”

“It sounds like he’s learning, albeit slowly,” Paza mused as she scanned the text.

“As quickly as we can expect from someone with imperfect recall,” Ipal replied.

She said it with kindness, but it was another reminder of how differently Valbaran brains worked. They seemed to be under the impression that they could simply memorize his script and recite it verbatim, like rehearsing for a stage play, but rote memorization might not cut it with humans. Any UNN rep would want to quiz the aliens and try to dissect their presentation to find inaccuracies or exaggerations, and there was no way to account for every question that might be asked.

“I’m thirsty,” Ezi groaned from a nearby desk, throwing her head back. “Steven, could you get us some drinks from the machine?”

“Sure,” he replied, standing up and stretching his arms. “I could use an excuse to stretch my legs.”

“Do you remember what we like?” Tilli asked.

“Got your numbers right here,” he replied, patting the pocket that housed his phone.

He made his way across the office, heading for the vending machines in the recreation area, pausing to greet a few flocks that he passed along the way. When he arrived and began to punch in the codes, pausing to reference the list, he was distracted by a Valbaran sidling up into his peripheral vision.

“Steven, good morning.”

He turned to the stranger, seeing the woman who had visited their office the day prior.

“Oh, you’re...” He snapped his fingers for a moment, the alien seeming taken aback by the gesture. “Lotl, right? Sorry, I hope that doesn’t come across as being too informal. I have a hard time remembering full Valbara’nay names sometimes.”

“It’s quite alright,” she replied, leaning against the vending machine as she peered up at him. “I’m aware of Earth’nay shortcomings, and their advantages,” she added as she looked him up and down pointedly.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, leaning down to fish another drink out of the machine.

“I see that Ipal and her flockmates have you fetching beverages for them.”

“That’s part of my job as a clerk,” he replied, punching in another code. “Technically, I’m still kind of an intern, so it’s not unexpected.”

“You interest me,” she said simply. “I wanted to speak to you when we first met, but I thought it better to wait for an opportunity to talk to you alone.”

“Why is that?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“When I heard that you were able to convince resource allocation to grant your team more cycles, and rather quickly, I began to suspect that your unique talents were being ... misused.”

“All I really did was chat with them for a few minutes,” he replied as he bundled the last drink cup into his arms.

“Males are rare in this line of work, and Earth’nay are rarer still,” she continued as she gave him a little flutter of pink and red. It was a signal of attraction or interest, to be sure, but the crimson suggested a more dominant streak that gave him pause. “Anyone can see that you have looks, but charm is something that could take you far in this company. Further than Ipal’s flock may be willing to take you.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Steven asked as he turned to face her. It was hard to be intimidated by someone who was a foot shorter than he was, but she had the confidence of someone twice her size.

“That’s all it is,” she added, sauntering around to put him between her and the machine. “A friendly suggestion.” Only now did he realize that a couple of her flockmates had snuck up on him like silent little raptors, boxing him in the same way he had seen Ipal’s flock box in Yemi. It gave headhunting a whole new meaning. “We don’t believe that Ipal’s team sees the same value in you that we do. If you were to ask your good friend Yemi for a transfer to another team, for example, ours, we could really leverage your talents.”

“What do you know about Yemi?”

“Word around the office is that you two have grown quite close,” one of her flockmates replied from his left. “Quite a feat. Yemi usually keeps to himself.”

“I’m starting to understand why,” Steven grumbled.

“This is a nice suit,” the one to his right added, reaching out to run her clawed fingers along one of the indented patterns on his jacket. “Earth’nay tailors are very skilled – it fits you well.”

“There are... other ways that we could make it a more attractive prospect,” Lotl continued as she backed him up against the glass. “According to office gossip, you’re a bachelor who goes home alone most evenings. This planet has a lot more to offer than you realize. It would be a shame to come all this way without ever enjoying the company of a flock.”

“And you’re offering to show me the sights, no doubt,” he replied as he struggled to balance the drinks.

“Come on,” she said with a dry chuckle and a flutter of green. “You can help my team land contracts with Earth’nay clients, and we can help to advance your career, along with some other perks. It’s such a waste to have someone as talented as you are passing messages and fetching drinks.”

“We might even be rewarded with our own private executive office if we land one of those big alien contracts,” another of her flockmates said with a flash of pink. “Think about it. Alone all day in a secluded office with a very grateful and appreciative flock...”

“Away from all the distractions of the office floor,” Lotl added with another wave of pink. “Think of all the things that we could accomplish together in such a focused environment.”

“It’s certainly a very tempting offer,” Steven replied, pretending to consider for a moment. “As much as I’m sure that I would enjoy exchanging favors for personal advancement, I’m kind of invested in the project I’m already working on,” he added as he began to push past her. He forced Lotl to step out of his way, and she shared a few angry red and yellow flashes with her flock, turning her snout to follow him as he hurried away. “I’ll give it some careful thought and get back to you, though I’ll probably just forget about this whole conversation!” he called back over his shoulder. “You know how forgetful we Earth’nay can be!”

Still feeling their eyes burning into his back, he wove his way between the dividers, getting out of their line of sight. When he arrived back at his cubicle, the flock looked up from their work curiously.

“Where have you been?” Ezi asked. “Did you forget where the vending machine was? You did, didn’t you?”

“I had a little run-in with Lotl and her friends,” he explained as he began to set down the drinks at their desks.

“What kind of a run-in?” Ipal asked, narrowing her eyes with a flash of purple and red.

“Oh, just some casual workplace sexual harassment,” he replied as he handed her one of the cups. “They cornered me at the vending machines and very strongly implied that if I asked Yemi to transfer me to their team, they’d make it worth my while.”

“That’s brazen, even for Lotl,” Ezi laughed with a flutter of yellow. “She must be desperate if she’s resorting to poaching our clerk.”

“It sounds like her own project isn’t going so well,” Ipal added with a satisfied smirk.

“You poor thing,” Mima cooed, giving him a flare of dismayed purple. “Are you alright? Can we get you anything?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, flopping down into his customized seat and cracking open his own beverage.

“You could go to Yemi and report them,” Ipal suggested. “I’d love to see Lotl’s flock get knocked down a peg.”

“It does constitute a violation of company policy, and they would likely be disciplined,” Paza added.

“Nah, I think I have a better idea,” Steven replied as he took a sip of his tiny drink. “They said something about being rewarded with an executive office for landing a lucrative contract. What’s that about?”

“Make the company enough money, and promotions are usually in order,” Ipal explained. “They come with private offices and a higher priority when choosing projects to take on, not to mention a modest pay rise. It incentivizes hard work and dedication.”

“What if we got that promotion instead of Lotl?” Steven suggested.

“It’s not up to us to decide who gets promoted,” Ipal explained. “That said, landing a UN contract to supply half of their fleet with LPD software would certainly put us in the running.”

“Don’t tell me you’re only motivated to do a good job now because it will annoy Lotl,” Paza sighed as she glanced up from her display.

“It certainly sweetens the deal,” Ezi snickered, taking a sip from her cup.

Paza gave them a flutter of exasperated red that might be something akin to an eye roll, returning to her work.

“We had better make this presentation good, then,” Ipal said as she directed Steven to keep writing his script.

Galvanized by the prospect of humbling Lotl, the flock worked hard on their project, splitting their attention between the code and Steven’s presentation. When they broke for lunch, Steven got a message on his phone, fishing it out of his pocket as he chewed on some gue’tra meat in a seaweed wrap.