Page 17
Alex
Alex put his finger under his shirt collar to relieve its tightness. He was dressed for his first day at work in a navy-blue suit with wide, fashionable lapels that he’d teamed with a crisp white shirt and a new, improved prototype of Bax’s holotie, which he’d set to change from grey-and-white to red-and-purple stripes at regular intervals. He found the tie faintly ridiculous, but he had to impose some kind of artistic flair on the conservative work suit.
He’d stayed holed up in the flat in Oxford for a few more weeks to hide from the ghastly post-Paralympics press frenzy, which was now, thankfully, starting to die down. He’d moved into the spacious Lytton AV apartment a week ago with Neil and had been studiously ignoring his unwanted flatmate ever since.
He glanced at his watch – he’d arrived early to make a good impression but had been sitting in the reception area outside his father’s office for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for him to come out.
“Can I get you anything, Mr Lytton?” his father’s executive assistant asked. “A cup of tea, or coffee, or some water?”
“No, I’m fine. What’s taking all the time?” Alex jerked his head at his father’s office door.
“He’s just finishing a meeting. I’m sure he won’t be long. ”
The executive assistant was probably about his own age, with thick blond hair, baby blue eyes, and an Adam’s apple that bobbed ferociously for no apparent reason. He was wearing the Lytton livery – a cheap brown suit with the Lytton AV insignia embroidered on the lapel in yellow thread – and an ugly brown pin attached to his shirt, showing his ID tag.
“It’s no trouble. I’m having one,” the young man offered, with a sweet smile.
“Okay, I’ll have a cup of tea. It looks like it’ll be a while before Dad – um, Mr Lytton – is ready to see me.” Alex wondered if his father was keeping him waiting on purpose, as some kind of test, and felt a familiar surge of irritation.
Returning from the kitchen a couple of minutes later with two mugs, the young man handed him one.
“So, um, what’s your name?” Alex asked.
“Spencer – Spencer Brown.”
“Well, thank you for making me feel so welcome on my first day, Spencer.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
“Please, call me Alex. We must be about the same age – it’s weird to hear you calling me sir.”
“You should get used to it. I think everyone here will be calling you sir, sir.” Spencer grinned. “Your dad will insist.”
“I hope not.” Alex grimaced. “I want to be friends, uh, Spencer, if that’s okay?”
“Oh. Okay. Yes, of course.” Spencer’s Adam’s apple bobbed vigorously. “I’m a huge fan of your brother.” He pointed to one of several nanopics on his desk. “He visited us here when he got back from Mexico. He brought his gold medals in and showed them around. It was the most exciting day of my life.”
The nanopic showed a beaming Charles in his wheelchair, holding up his two gold medals, with a starstruck Spencer standing next to him.
“Charles does love to show off his medals,” Alex said.
“He’s such a lovely person! He spent the entire day here. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t take a selfie with him. ”
“Yeah, that sounds like Charles’s idea of a good day out.”
Alex had visited The Orchard for Sunday lunch on his brother’s return from Mexico and had been forced to admire the newest gong, too. Charles’s good mood, as always, had been infectious, despite the fact that Alex had zero interest in how fast anyone could row a small boat along a stretch of water.
The sound of raised voices coming from his father’s office interrupted their conversation.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” The office door was suddenly yanked open. Alex exchanged a startled glance with Spencer.
“Please, Isaiah, don’t leave like this. Just hear me out.” His father’s voice carried through the open door. “We value you and your contribution to the business; that’s why we want to keep you.”
“I’ve worked here for fifteen years. Fifteen! I’m a good, hard worker?—”
“Nobody is disputing that.” Noah’s voice again. “But we have a new policy now.”
“It’s a bad policy.”
“Look, times are tough; I have to do what’s best for the business and for all the workers – not just the select few.”
“By making us all your indentured servants? Damn it, sir, some of us still have our pride.”
“Isaiah, this won’t change anything. You’ll still have your pride – and I’ll be prouder still, seeing you wearing the Lytton livery. It’s a minor detail, really – your life won’t have to change much. I’ll see that you and your family get one of the best houses in Lytton Village, and you’re sure to become an important part of the community there.”
“I work with these people; I don’t want to live with them, too.”
“Look, Isaiah – the world is changing, and we’re facing stiff competition. I have to streamline the business, or we might as well give up.”
“And it’s cheaper for you to employ indentured servants?”
“Yes, it is. I won’t deny that, but we treat our indentured servants well, and there’s no indignity in it. We’ll draw up an IS contract for you and take good care of you and your family. You’ll get a decent signing fee and our standard end-of-contract fee at retirement.”
“It’s short-term thinking. Yes, labour is cheap, and IS labour is extremely cheap, but you should be investing in tech. Tyler Tech uses robots and AI for many of the jobs you have indies doing.”
“People need jobs. I’m proud to be able to help out.”
“By making us all servants? I’d rather lose my job to a robot,” Isaiah said scornfully.
“We do invest in tech,” Noah protested feebly.
“Not enough. Lytton AV is lagging further and further behind. I’d rather not pin my future to a company that can’t keep up. I resign.”
Alex glanced at Spencer in shock.
“Now, Isaiah, there’s no need to do that. Take your time – we’d be sorry to lose an experienced worker like you.”
“You should have thought about that before you brought in this idiotic new policy.”
“We did.” Noah’s voice sounded regretful. “We did think about it, long and hard, and we accepted there would be some who felt as you do. We’ll be sad to lose you, but the hard truth is we can train someone else to do your job. I was thinking about you – it won’t be easy for you to walk into another job, and I’d hate for you to end up in one of the government’s work camps – or, worse, in the Quarterlands.”
“The hard truth? You want to hear the hard truth, Lytton? It’s this – if your company isn’t competing well, it’s because your plant is old, your business model tired, and your designers keep turning out the same stale old crap.”
“The Lytton AV Classic model is?—”
“Ancient! You have to do more than tinkering with that utilitarian old jeep design.”
“It’s a timeless classic. And it’s still one of the best-selling AVs in the UK market.”
“Because until recently the foreign imports have been so expensive. But they’re coming down in price now, and UK companies like Tyler’s Aquacruise range are providing what people want, not Lytton AV.”
Alex winced. “He won’t like that,” he murmured to Spencer.
“George Tyler is a chancer, and Aquacruise is a tiny part of his business interests. He doesn’t care about the AV market – he’s only in it because of some old grudge he has against me. He doesn’t have what it takes to produce an AV to rival the Lytton Classic. ”
“Maybe not once, but Tyler Tech is one of the biggest companies in the country now – times are changing, old man, and you’d better change with them or go under.”
Alex made an “oh, shit” face at Spencer, whose eyes were as round as saucers. “I think that poor Isaiah, whoever he is, has burned his bridges with that comment,” he murmured.
He was right. “Goodbye, Isaiah. I’ll see that your final salary is paid into your account with immediate effect,” his father said firmly.
There was a long silence and then the sound of footsteps.
Alex tried to look casual. He crossed one leg languidly over the other and watched as a wiry, dark-haired man appeared, red-faced and furious, and then stormed past him and along the corridor.
His father came out and glared irritably at Alex’s holotie.
“You’re here, are you?” he snapped. “Well, come in, then – and what the hell is that monstrosity around your neck?”
“It’s a tie.”
“Well, it’s bloody awful.”
“I agree – but I confidently predict that in a few years’ time everyone will be wearing them, and you know how I like to lead the pack where fashion is concerned.” Alex grinned.
His father blinked, as if he couldn’t make any sense of that. “Oh, for Christ’s sake – just get in here,” he ordered, waving his arm at his son and stomping back into his office.
Alex gave Spencer a little wink as he went inside.
His father strode to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a large glass of whisky. Alex coughed meaningfully.
“I know it’s early,” his father said. “But it’s been one hell of a morning.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that. It’s never too early for a good drink, in my view. I’m just pissed off you didn’t offer me a glass,” he said, trying to lighten the grim atmosphere. He desperately wanted this to go well.
His father swallowed the whisky in one gulp and turned to glare at him. “Alex, I hope this isn’t going to be a mistake. This is a serious business – real people work here, and they rely on us to get it right – but you turn up wearing that stupid tie, being so bloody glib…”
“Well, I’m here, and I’m me, and you already knew what I was like before today, so what did you expect?” he snapped, feeling his good mood flatten in the face of his father’s disapproval.
There was never any point trying to do the right thing, because Noah would always find something to criticise him for, and some devil in him was always happy to provide it.
“Good point. What did I expect?” Noah sighed. “See, this is why I wonder if you’re the right person to take over Lytton AV when I retire. You’ve got a lot to prove.”
“That’s not fair – I’ve worked hard at university for the past few years. I’m ready for this.”
“And a few weeks ago you ruined your brother’s big moment by pissing on reporters out of your bedroom window.”
“It’s only what they deserved, and Charles enjoyed his big moment just fine, regardless of me.”
“Just remember that working at Lytton AV isn’t play-acting and posturing, Alex. It’s the real world.”
“So I gathered from that argument you just had with Isaiah,” he responded quietly. “What was that about?”
His father poured himself another drink. “It’s a controversial decision, but we have to make cuts somewhere. We can save millions by only employing indentured servants. All our workers are being offered the same deal; Isaiah is one of a small minority who won’t accept it.”
“Well, I agree with him.”
“It’s not a decision we took lightly,” his father flared. “But times are tough, and?—”
“Not about that. I don’t care whether you only employ IS labour or free workers. No, I mean he was right about the product. You do need to modernise.”
“You’ve been here for five minutes and already you think you know best? Typical.” His father gave a derisory snort.
Alex felt a familiar wave of impotent fury. “Why bring me here if you don’t want to listen to me?”
“So you can learn. You want to know why we aren’t rushing to adopt your recommendations? Let’s talk about money, for starters – it would cost a huge amount to create a genuinely new kind of AV. We’d have to redesign machines, retrain workers… and right now, we don’t ha ve much credit with the banks. We’d have to invest in marketing and advertising to support the new product – and if it fails, the entire company will go with it. It’s a huge risk – and it’s one I’m not prepared to take with the livelihoods of everyone in this building just on your say-so.”
“You’re risking the company’s future just as much if you don’t modernise.”
“Listen, Alex.” Noah leaned in, a grim expression on his face. “You’ll start at the bottom, work in all the departments, and you’ll learn this company inside out, the way I did. One day, if you work hard, I’ll give you a seat on the board and let you make suggestions, but until then, I suggest you bloody well shut up. Understood?”
“Of course.” Alex gave a sardonic salute. “You know, I feel at home here already.”
“Don’t give me any of your crap.” Noah gave him a withering look. “Now come with me, and I’ll show you around.”
“I have been here before…”
“Not as an employee,” Noah barked, striding towards the door.
The Lytton AV workers shot Alex little glances as his father led him on a tour of the factory and offices. He’d been here many times before, but not since the accident. Where once they’d smiled and waved at him, now they looked at him with hostility, and it hurt. He’d always felt at home here, but not anymore.
He tried to be interested in everything his father was saying, but he’d heard it all before. The only part of the operation that he cared about was the design studio, which Noah seemed to be leaving until last.
“And here is the boardroom.” Noah opened the door to a room containing an imposing black table surrounded by a dozen or so chairs. The walls were a clinical white, offset only by a row of neatly ordered old photographs. In one of them, Alex’s grandfather stood outside the brand-new Lytton AV office with his hand on the shoulder of an indentured servant. Both of them were beaming at the camera as they posed with the first Lytton Classic duck.
“Is that Will Tyler with Grandfather?” Alex studied the photograph with interest, remembering his conversation with George Tyler at his graduation.
“Yes,” his father said shortly.
Alex peered at the photo. “They look happy here – like they’re good friends.”
“They were – the best of friends. Dad didn’t exploit Will, regardless of what George Tyler says – he’s a liar. Now, come on – I still have a lot to show you.”
Taking Alex around the rest of the company, Noah introduced him to far too many people to remember. They even peered into the accounts office, where Neil was staring owlishly at a spreadsheet. Glancing up, he gave a little wave, which Alex ignored.
“You must also see Lytton Village – it’s an important part of who we are, as a company,” Noah said.
He took Alex to the housing estate next door, which boasted row upon row of tidy, well-kept apartment blocks that backed onto a large communal lawn.
“The younger, single indentured servants start out in the dormitories, and if they work hard, they earn the right to their own apartments, and then they can get married, if they so wish,” Noah said proudly. “We feed, clothe, and house our servants to the highest standard – they want for nothing. If they’re ill, our medical insurance ensures they receive the best possible care.” He spoke passionately, and Alex knew this was a cause close to his heart.
“We keep them safe here.” Noah waved a hand at the high gates surrounding the village. “Do you have any idea how many jobless, un-indentured people out there are the victims of violent crime? Of sickness, homelessness, and poverty?”
Alex shrugged. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Do you even read the news?” Noah snapped. “I know you have a good brain inside your head – have you never looked at the world around you and seen the terrible lives so many people lead? We can’t save them all, but we can bring as many as possible into the fold and take care of them here. If someone is prepared to work hard at Lytton AV, then we make sure they have a good life here. Their children receive an excellent education, and we lay on social events and excursions for the entire village. Everyone here is happy.”
“Okay.” Alex glanced around. It looked nice enough. It was clean and tidy, and he could see a little bunch of children playing happily outside their nursery.
“Since the Rising, everything in this country is built on such fragile foundations,” Noah sighed. “I’m proud of what we’ve achieved at Lytton AV. That’s something you must continue when you take over, one day.”