Dispatch by Bentley Little

Author:Bentley Little
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-06-07T04:00:00+00:00

I signed the letter, folded it and placed it in the envelope. Considering for a moment what to do, I stood and shoved the envelope under the door. "Deliver this to your boss!" I shouted.

For the next half hour or so, I paced around the room, wondering if my letter would reach its intended target, wondering what the reaction would be. I had a lot of time to think, and I considered the subject of time itself. How long had I been trapped here in this office? It felt like three days, but with no clock, no change in light or atmosphere, no visual cues from the outside world, my inner rhythm could be totally off. I could be sleeping for a single hour every six hours, or I could be sleeping twelve hours every twelve hours. It was impossible to tell.

Sometime later, the screaming started again. At first, I thought it might be a tape loop, some type of psychological warfare tactic used to break prisoners down. But this screaming was different, and even though the sound was muffled because of the walls, I could definitely hear two voices this time, one low and constant, delivering some type of lecture, the other high and anguished, crying out in physical pain.

I banged my fist on the wall. "Shut the hell up in there!" I yelled.

To my surprise, they did shut up. It could have been a coincidence—the torture session might simply have ended at exactly that time—but I was pretty sure that the entire thing had been staged for my benefit.

I ate the granola bars, drank the now warm grape juice. As I finished the last of the juice, the door opened and the bureaucrat with the binder walked in. "Congratulations!" he said cheerfully, hand extended. "You have successfully completed our training program and are now qualified to work for us and write letters at the highest level."

Numbly, I shook his hand. "What exactly am I qualified to do?"

"Come on," he said. "There's a party in your honor. Sort of a get-to-know-you, welcome-aboard mixer." He led me out into the corridor, walking fast. "You're really going to like it here."

"Where is here?" I asked.

He stopped before a door marked C, then rapped on it with his knuckles three times. The door opened slowly. "Party's in there," he said. "I have some work to attend to, but I'll join you shortly. Have fun!" He pumped my hand. "And, once again, congratulations!"

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