Report 6: Cambralart Financials, Interview 3: Daniel Jackson and Karine Templeton

            Armed with two more leads, I made my way to the fourteenth floor.  I passed three different security guards on my way there and in the elevator, but I suppose nobody had raised an alarm that I was wandering loose after I shook my escort two floors down, because no one even gave me a second look as I marched forward just as confidently as those I passed in the hallways.

            Daniel Jackson and Karine Templeton’s office became obvious as soon as I made it onto this floor’s workspace, which was organized exactly the same as the one two stories down, save for the color of the tile.  They didn’t share the common space and instead were occupied in their own double office.  Their door was cracked open, and once again taking a leap that assuredly entailed a greatly inflated risk of being thrown from the premises, I knocked and entered.

TC: Mr. Jackson?  Ms. Templeton?

            Both looked up wearily at me from their adjacent desks, their fingers continuing to tap away on their tablets and keyboards.  It must’ve been a grueling week, because their eyes were red and puffy, as though they’d been working through a night or two without proper rest.  Daniel was of average build, in his mid-thirties, and African-American.  Karine was very petite with wiry blonde hair and looked to be in her late twenties.

Daniel: Are you the rep from Ambleworth?

            Daniel’s voice came out as somewhat of a croak.

TC: Yes.  Yes, that’s me.

Daniel: What’s your name again?

TC: Taylor.  Howard Taylor.

Daniel: I thought it was a something-Handler they were sending over.

TC: Last minute change of plans.  Handler called in sick.  Bad stomach flu, I think.

Karine: We didn’t think anyone would be here for another forty minutes.  You can take a seat, though.  At my desk is fine; I’m the one with the actual reports to show you.

TC: All right.  Thank you.

            I briskly took a seat in front of Karine’s desk while Daniel set about finishing something up on his screen.

Daniel: We’ve got just about everything in order for you, except for a couple more details to smooth out.  I think we’ve got something very positive here.

TC: Yes, so do I.

Karine: Your company sounded ready for this on the phone.  Are you ready to sign a few forms for us, or is there anything you wanted to go over before we start up this partnership?

TC: In a way, yes.  I consider myself something of a reader, and in educating myself about Cambralart, there was something that caught my attention.  I was hoping one or both of you could fill me in.

Daniel: Absolutely.  What is it?

TC: Well, I stumbled across a program called the Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience in conjunction with your company’s implementation of The Shrink Act.

            I was expecting a frosty reception to this sudden broaching of the subject, but I was not expecting the look in the eyes of both Daniel and Karine that flashed so simultaneously.  They wore the exact same expressions of hollowness that I haven’t seen much of outside old photos of shellshock victims.

Karine: Beg pardon?

TC: The Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience.  I was curious about it.

Daniel: Why, if I may ask?

TC: It’s an anomaly, is all.  It piqued my interest with everything happening in the news this year about the Matter Reduction Device.  And clearly, in the time since it was implemented, your company’s seen quite an upturn, even while it was already performing superbly.

Karine: It’s a program meant to improve worker productivity.

TC: That’s it?

Daniel: Essentially, yes.  That’s really all that’s worth knowing about it.

TC: I have to doubt that, given the numbers Cambralart has been pulling since it was created.

Karine: I’m sorry, Mister… um.

TC: Taylor.

Karine: Mr. Taylor, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure what exactly this has to do with this deal?

TC: Not that much, admittedly.  I just wanted to know, and as I believe you two have participated in it before, I thought I might be able to get a firsthand account.

            There was another pause here, which I fully expected.  Karine gripped the arms of her chair more forcibly, while Daniel leaned across his desk.

Daniel: Who are you?  Really?

Karine: Daniel.

Daniel: Who?

TC: Howard Taylor, like I said.

Daniel: I know your name.  I mean who are you?

TC: A concerned citizen.

Karine: Really.  Concerned.

TC: Very.

Daniel: Well, your concern isn’t necessary.  This is an accounts department we’re running here, not a twenty questions game.  If you’re not the rep, then I’m not even sure what it is we’re still talking about.

TC: We’re talking about doing something about what’s going on here at this company.  I could help if you’ll just tell me what we’re looking at here.

Karine: Nothing is going on, and we’re not looking at anything here.

TC: If that’s true, why won’t anyone tell me a single thing about what’s supposed to be a motivational seminar?

Daniel: Because there’s nothing to tell.  We go in, we shrink down, we listen to some lectures and do some team-building.  Then we go home and get back to work.

            As Daniel spoke, his voice became even more hoarse, and I could see he was fighting back a cough, as though he were uncomfortably constructing the words as he went.  I had enough confirmation of my suspicions to finally lay my cards on the table.

TC: Mr. Jackson.  Ms. Templeton.  I’m sorry that I barged in here and lied to you.  You have to understand, it was only because of the work I’m doing.  For people who aren’t able to speak up for themselves because of the system.

Karine: What the hell are you talking about?

TC: I’m an analyst from the human relations department of the Techilogic Corporation.  I’m investigating the effects of the use of the Matter Reduction Device after the Shrink Act was passed.

            Both visibly twitched at this mention of my title and origin, though I couldn’t be sure in what context it was.  I flashed them a business card just for added reassurance.

Daniel: All right.  So what, you want us to give you a nice promotional slogan to go on an ad for a PMRD, huh?  Say how the thing’s been indirectly bringing in millions more per month, how it’s improving productivity.  Is that how this works?

TC: No.

Karine: Then what do you want?

TC: The truth.

            Daniel’s eyes shifted to the window on the door leading into the office, checking for observers.

Karine: Why should we believe you?

TC: Because I want it to go down, just like you.

Daniel: How can we know you’re not just here to catch us in the act of dumping on Cambralart and Beakman?

TC: My job is already on the line.  I could show you some of the memos I’ve gotten, but it probably doesn’t matter, because I think you could guess for yourselves how much more this risks for me.  If this conversation happens, and it comes out that it did because one of us said something, who do you think bites the dust harder, you or me?

            Another silence.  Karine shot Daniel a look that I interpreted as pleading.

TC: Believe me.  If I publish half of what I’ve found out, I’m already going down.  Right now, I just want to hear what you have to say.

            Daniel’s eyes fell back to the surface of his desk, his body posture stiff, and he folded his hands into his lap.

Daniel: Karine, would you mind getting the window?

Karine: Okay.

            There was a certain mix of anxiety and yet still relief in her tone as she rose and pulled down a tiny blind over the door window.

Daniel: You understand, Mr. Taylor.  Even if you are willing to take the risk you say you are, we’re still very much on the line as well.  If we were to describe anything potentially compromising about our company to you, I could never speak in definitive terms, and neither could Karine.

TC: Speak entirely in theoreticals if you want.  I’m just here to listen.  Start whenever you want.

            Karine took her seat again, adopting a similarly strained position in her chair like her coworker, bowing her head slightly.

Karine: Daniel?  Do you want to go first?

Daniel: The Reduction Seminar & Learning Experience, on the books, is spread out among the managers of every department in the company.   Officially, anyone participating by being shrunken and receiving its lessons can go to just about anyone in the company, and they maintain a system of open communication and uniformity in the seminar.

TC: But is that what happens?

Daniel: Officially, it is what happens.  And officially, I cannot say the company’s records are lying.

TC: What can you say, then?

Karine: That even though every manager knows about it, only Beakman actually holds the seminars, knows exactly what happens, and she answers to none of the others about them.

            Daniel shot Karine a shifty glance, but was clearly beginning to come to terms with the fact that this information was about to come out anyway.

TC: So then, if such a thing like that… were to be what was happening, as opposed to the official position of the company, would Beakman’s actions in the seminar be known to the managers?

Daniel: Hypothetically.  Yes.  But only tangentially.  Because they would not want to know about it, to help absolve them of blame or obligation to intervene.  If that was what was happening.

TC: So the seminars, now.

Daniel: They take place at Beakman’s house, where she is the sole supervisor, though she officially has to report back the events of the seminar.

TC: Officially.

Karine: Officially.

TC: What else is official?  What takes place?

Daniel: Officially, they are learning exercises as well as additional opportunities for catch-up work.  Officially, employees spend an hour and a half of their time at a reduced size working on tablets under the supervision, followed by two and a half hours of combined group team-building activities and business lectures designed to improve their output.

TC: But supposing the official statements are not what takes place…

Karine: They’re not.

TC: What does?

            Daniel and Karine finally looked up simultaneously from their desks, meeting gazes, their faces pallid.  Karine gave a weak nod to her business partner.

Daniel: We need your final assurance.  That whatever we say-

TC: (cutting in) You have my word as a professional analyst with nine years of experience that anything you-

Karine: Not your word as an analyst.

Daniel: Your word as a man.

TC: You have it.

            Both seemed to settle back into their chairs at this, though neither sat any easier.

Karine: Theoretically, employees who participate may or may not be shrunken to three inches in groups of more than a dozen.  They may or may not be stripped naked, either on their own or by whatever… executive… happens to be in charge of the seminar.

TC: And?

Daniel: Theoretically, they may then be handled very intimately by whatever executive is in charge.  This may or may not include nor may or may not be limited to direct holding, caressing, and intrusive prodding, often with many employees in one hand of said hypothetical executive.

TC: Is that the end of it?

            Karine held stock still, and I could see she had her hands around her knees to keep them from trembling.  Her voice began to quaver.

Karine: Theoretically, no.

TC: Then what else?

Karine: Theoretically, the executive may or may not then strip him or herself down to nothing as well, then collect all the employees together, and…

            I wondered if Daniel would take over for her, as she seemed to be struggling hard to get the words out, but he held a hand over his mouth, possibly from nausea.

TC: It’s okay now, Karine.  Just tell me.

Karine: Theoretically, the executive may… use… the employees, as… aids.  Usually two at a time.  Inside, in her own… her own…

            Another wave of silence fell over the room as Karine’s gaze fell back to her lap, her words fading off.  Daniel stared at me unblinkingly with deadly seriousness.

Daniel: Theoretically.

TC: I understand.  The theory of it, I mean.

Daniel: See that’s as far as you understand it, where we are concerned.  Are we clear on that?

TC: Absolutely.  There will never be a shred of connection back to you.

Daniel: How can I know?

TC: These reports are now no longer for publication.  They are for me, and my work.

Daniel: Why is that?

TC: Because if I publish any of this, I’ll be out the door just as fast as they can burn every record of it.  It’ll be as though it hadn’t existed.  No, that’s not how this will be handled.

Karine: How will it be?

TC: Discreetly.  And with the utmost respect to the two of you, as well as any others who may have participated or been involved in any way with-

Daniel: (cutting in) What good will it do?

TC: I don’t know yet.  I honestly don’t.  And I’m sorry about that.  But I know that it will, in time, be of use.

Karine: And what if they try to take it back from you and find out about any of this, a link of any kind?

TC: They’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers first.

            My departure came shortly afterward.  I escorted myself out very casually, as Daniel and Karine remained in their office.  As I passed by the lobby on my way out, once again avoiding the guards patrolling about, I noticed a man who, based on his dress and accessories, I assumed to be the Mr. Handler they were waiting for.

            I’m of the professional opinion that my interview with Ms. Tania Beakman will not be followed up, even if I were to send in a basket of apologetic fruit and flowers, though I do hope to hear more from the two employees I spoke with.  As with Shelby back at South Hanenrow University, I left copies of my card with Daniel and Karine on their desks in case they feel the urge to further divulge information at a later time.

            For now, I press onward, the necessity of my study and the information I’ve gleaned becoming more and more vital to me as a researcher rather than Techilogic as an entity.  There is no longer, I believe, intrinsic academic value in the study as a primary objective.  It is now simply for the crucial preservation of social justice for human beings, which within the walls of Cambralart Financials, I firmly believe is receiving nothing short of a violent decomposition.

            There may not be many more chances to acquire the data I have in my work, for me or any who may follow, and I have no intention of squandering the opportunity.  Despite the subject matter of my report almost certainly linking back to my superiors in the future, thus virtually assuring my termination as an employee, the actual content cannot and will not fall into anyone else’s hands at this point until enough information has been gathered to land a solid blow against The Shrink Act once and for all.