Chapter 13

To say that the next day’s union meeting was contentious is putting it mildly. I was initially expecting it would be cancelled but various heads of government went on the air and on record, encouraging the people to ‘resume our lives’ which I sarcastically translated to: ’spend money and support the economy so it doesn’t crash, and I won’t lose my job’

We’d gotten wind that the containment structure put around the portal at Xavier’s was designed to contain recycled cardboard not any sort of being. Words from the Green Book like ‘all reasonable precautions to protect the worker’ and ‘bear the responsibility to protect the worker from all known hazards’ were being thrown around by angry, grieving men.

The consensus was that the company management would try to weasel out of their error (which was no doubt based on the fact that they had installed the cheapest option) by claiming ignorance of what was in the portals (bullshit), ignorance of knowing that something could come out of the portal (possible), or that it was an ‘Act of God’ and somehow the workers had made some sort of error and exacerbated the issue (most likely).

I thought I might have something to learn from their cutthroat way of thinking.

I was driving to Xavier’s later for my last shift, and fingered the big black stone that I’d had in my pocket. I’d fished it out of the big spider. Leslie had gotten it embedded into the damn thing pretty far considering how big it was and how firm a spider torso was. She’d gone down trying to help me. I owed her, and I hated owing someone. I’d sent a flower and a note, but I’d learn when she was awake when the stone disappeared. I’d make a visit then.

I’d skipped the beer at the meeting (they’d apparently always held it in a bar) and gone against my pattern of normally eating no ‘breakfast’ before work and the chicken wings were making me queasy as I walked through security. I got an odd stare from the one guard and a curious nod from the other. The other workers were just as deferential when I came across them. I’m used to physical contact, but getting my hand pumped and my back slapped by anyone I came across was surreal.

“Ach!” Gerry said when I finally saw him. “The frigging prodigal son returns!” His rolling r’s dragging out the statement. _I_ rolled my eyes, already sick of being their hero.

“Leslie did as much as I did” I groaned, knowing it to be true. The Boss spider was almost immobilized by the time I got to it, and she killed six of them herself.

“Ach lad. We’ve all seen the bloody videos by now”. He said more seriously. “Here laddie, I’ll send ya’ a copy” and he fiddled with his laptop for a few moments. “I’ve been instructed ta’ send ya to speak with the Big Boss and I’d bet my lunch that e’ll not be alone...” he railed off, raising one eyebrow.

“No takers,” I replied. If the big boss wanted to talk to me, then no good would come of this. I was on the phone a second later, calling the Chief steward who was still back at the bar.

“Gimme 20 min, I’m sober enough for that fathead” Joe said. I reminded him that being drunk at the workplace was still a termination offence. As I was hanging up I could hear him calling for a coffee and a cab.

I decided to change into coveralls, Joe would be the Union representative and I’d just quietly listen and keep my mouth shut.

“Look Greg, you just keep your mouth shut and listen” Joe said when he found me in the lunchroom a half hour later. I handed him a whole pack of peppermint gum I’d bought in the caf with my coffee.

“Thanks mate” he said, popping two sticks nto his huge gob and chomping away. He then led the way to the Big Boss’s office over there in the ivory tower of Management-land. He knocked twice and just walked in, surprising three guys in suits.

“Evening Gents. I’ve beet told that you’d like a meeting with this young Union Brother of mine.” Joe opened, and sat down in the chair right in front of the big oak desk. “Ya’ wanted him here ASAP, and here he is. I’ve got a few questions though before we begin...”

What followed was a basically a crash course in aggressive union steward representation behaviour. Joe completely hijacked the meeting, demanding that written guarantees were in place that nothing discovered during the following meeting could (or would) be used for disciplinary action up to and including termination. The guys in suits balked, saying that it was unreasonable and the situation they wanted to speak about was an unprecedented ‘act of God’ that was outside the reasonable authority of the collective agreement.

“If you want to have a discovery meeting that may lead to disciplinary action, we require 24h notice and a list of the questions that will be asked. During that meeting only those questions will be asked and any follow-up questions will require another 24h notice period.” Joe rattled this off as a memorized passage. I figured it was probably word-for-word from the collective agreement.

“Why wouldn’t you want to answer a few simple questions Greg? Do you have something to hide?” One of the yet-unnamed suits asked with a bland-yet-concerned tone.

“Gentlemen: harassing my Union Brother here is counterproductive to both the trust built between management and our union as well as the gathering of real information.” Joe interrupted with a ‘disappointed father’ tone of voice. He pulled out a pair of brown envelopes that had the UNIFOR crest on them. “Here is a copy of the collective agreement that we work under. I suggest you read sections 4,5, and 8. I await official notice of your request for a ‘discovery meeting’. He slid them over the desk then turned around and ushered me out the door, closing it behind him.

“What the...” I started before he cut me off

“Not here...”

We walked down to his office in the basement.

“I’ve had this office swept for bugs just this week, but I can’t be sure if they can hear this or not. Look Greg, this is huge. That cage was substandard bullshit and they knew it. They took a risk to save a few bucks and got burned. The corporation that runs Xavier’s is now on the hook for dozens of deaths in their workplace. We’re talking hundreds of millions in liability and they will do anything to lessen their exposure. If that means they have to throw you under the bus, then they will. There is no honour for them, this about their survival and they will do anything to protect themselves, like a cornered rat” he finished.

I commended these assholes on their cutthroat tactics, but having them try it on me was shitty. Murder crossed my mind briefly. I hadn’t killed anyone in quite a little while.

“I’ve put in my papers, this is my last night shift and then I’ve only got the three day shifts over the weekend and I’m done. Will the union still represent me when I leave?” I said acting concerned. I was moving on to a job as a shadow operator to the government. I wasn’t worried about these assholes too much.

“We’ll cover you for the times you were a member, but I’m not sure how they can compel you to attend any meeting outside of a court summons. They may serve you papers...” he said with all seriousness.

I thanked him and went back to work, there was a fair bit more to do than normal (with the death of Claude). I sort of welcomed it as it took my mind off the last few days. I got a call from Andy for lunch, and I agreed, so long as she didn’t ask about the breakout.

Lunch was awkward. Despite our physical relationship I really didn’t know much about her. We sat with Gerry and oddly, Colleen (she with the child of yet undetermined parentage). Gerry asked questions, steering the women to talk about themselves and keeping the topic off of the outbreak. I appreciated that part, but I’d rather not have known that Andy had a thirteen year old son in grade 9. I’d thought she was a (more) recent mom and divorcee.

“Have you seen the footage?” Colleen blurted out towards the end of the half hour break that we typically stretched to a full hour. I admitted I hadn’t, but promised I would have a look as I gathered my trash. In seconds however, Colleen had her huge new phone in my face and an image of a staff fighter blocking a spiders attack filled the frame. She pressed play and the scene played out, spiders being ‘taken care of’ with a furious lethality. I figured out it was Leslie since I recognized the hallways. I’d watched George give staff and spear lessons. Leslie’s style sure didn’t match any of those, what she lacked in finesse she made up in raw power, one moment spearing an enemy with the butt-end of her staff (it wasn’t all that sharp, I’d looked it over carefully and even stored it once before leaving it with the nurses.) the next moment she’d wrenched it free, spun and slammed it down like a two-handed club onto another before loading up her sling and casting a stone with devastating effect.

Gods, but she was beautiful.

I watched with awe, her fearsome strength draining away at the end of the third confrontation, but she loaded up another stone and cast it hard offscreen before collapsing.

What a woman!

“She’s still being sedated, I went to see her at the hospital. Dave arrived with the kids after I’d been there with her only a few minutes, so I left and let them have some privacy”. Colleen said after the video ended. “Her little two are so cute...” she added, rubbing her hands all over her own swollen belly.

Until Colleen, I’d only ever tried to avoid pregnancy and pregnant women. All of a sudden, the thought of a pregnant Leslie, a gorgeous fighter all swollen and ripe with my kid, gave me an instant and painful hard on. Thank goodness these coveralls were loose. I knew that I’d be texting Colleen (or Andy) in minutes. I also knew I’d be picturing Leslie’s leaner but more muscular frame along with her blond hair while plowing the swollen heifer as she leaned on a table. I stole one of Gerry’s fries on my way out, fumbling with my cellphone.

By the end of the shift, I’d managed two rounds with Colleen and one with Andy. The unbidden images of Leslie driving me on. I was finally able to keep it down, but uncharacteristically wanted so badly to visit her.

The automatic gate at the local general hospital parking lot seemed to take forever to let me in and I screeched to a halt in the first spot I could find before walking quickly to the emergency room entrance. My Xavier’s ID did a lot to get me in to see her even though visiting hours didn’t open until 10am.

Besides the general healthcare, someone had gone to great lengths to clean her up. There was bruising on face and neck to some degree, but it looked quite old. I pulled back the sheets that had covered her left leg. It looked awful, but healing. Her arm looked bad, and I could see a bunch of burn-covering material and see that it had an IV into the back of the wrist. A quick glance at the bags on the pole told me she had given quite a bit of wide-spectrum antibiotics.

I’d just confirmed that the ring was still there (the tape with all the writing on it was gone) when a severe looking brown guy in a white lab-coat over green scrubs walked into the ward. He spent a few minutes with the patient in the next bed before drawing the curtain and finding me sitting beside Leslie.

“What is your business here?” He asked while glancing at my ID badge.

“I’m a colleague from where she works. We fought off the same beasts, I gave her the ring that’s on her foot right now. “ I said more calmly than I felt. This guy was probably thinking that a strange guy could be a threat to a defenceless woman in a medically induced coma. In reality, that scene from the famous Uma Thorman movie had already flashed through my head before, and I had stamped down that impulse. Hard.

He eyeballed me as he gestured to the tape ball. “We heard it’s a magic ring, but didn’t touch it, though we would really like to examine it or even try it with other patients but the warning about it hurting either Leslie here and the person removing it has us a bit flummoxed. Do you know anything about it?”