“He was reaching for his handheld,” Mia told the Klatch. “He was going to scan me, I know it.”

“Bastards,” Eun-hee said. She had taken two bites of a chicken salad wrap and disgustedly pushed the rest aside.

“He’d have reported me to management and I’d be punished for breaking some rule or other. All I wanted to do was look at her.”

“Was she even alive?” Beta asked.

“I don’t know. She didn’t look cognizant. I have no idea what they were trying to prove by wheeling her into the meeting.”

“She didn’t react?” asked Alpha.

“Didn’t even blink. She just … floated. What the hell is this project all about, anyway?” Mia could feel the hysteria rising in her again. She forced herself to close her eyes and breathe.

“It’s a threat,” said Alpha. “They’re trying to scare people into quitting the company. That way they avoid layoffs and save on outsourcing costs, unemployment, the whole shebang.”

“Wrong,” responded Eun-hee brusquely. “It’s an experiment, just like they say. Only Gloria’s not the subject. We are.”

“Sure. They want to intimidate us,” Beta said. “To put the fear of God into employees and make us toe the line and work our asses off. That’s what it’s about.”

“No, what they want,” Eun-hee said, “is to see how we react under extreme conditions. Do you honestly think there’s any way what they’re doing is legal?”

“Well, they’re getting away with it.”

“Exactly. Because this is a lot bigger than just the company.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the government. Meaning conspiracy. Meaning we, all of us, ladies of the Klatch and everyone around us, are screwed pooches.”

*****

With Eun-hee’s words in mind, Mia tiptoed around the office the next few days, listening, watching, absorbing information, trying to sort it all out in her head. Everyone she passed in the hallway was tense and nervous; nobody seemed to smile anymore or even nod acknowledgment. They were in a state of siege. Meanwhile the Kansas Consultants continued wheeling heads between elevators and conference rooms, positioning them wordlessly off to the side during meetings while employees did their best to conduct business as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place.

Then the long-rumored cutbacks were announced. According to the CEO’s e-mail and accompanying article on the intranet, the company was carefully evaluating all existing positions with interpretive input from KC, and would be making significant changes in the near future. The goal was to flatten the organization and make the company healthier, allowing more room for advancement–as if that was somehow supposed to make people feel good about impending layoffs.

Oh, and by the way, the message went on, sick days were being eliminated. Going forward, any days out of the office would be counted as vacation days. And lunch hours were reduced to half-hours, effective immediately. Anyone spending longer than that away from their desk would find it counted against them. That’s how the message put it: “counted against them.” There was no definition of what that meant.

“I can’t believe it,” Alpha said, her mouth stuffed with egg salad as she hurried through her sandwich. “Who the hell do they think they are?”

“They think they’re the dealers,” Eun-hee answered. “And we’re the dice.”

“How is the company supposed to function with even less people?” Mia asked. “We’re a skeleton crew as it is.”

“Maybe the Think Tanks’ll pick up the slack,” Alpha said, and paused, the sandwich halfway to her mouth. “Wait a minute, maybe that’s the plan. Maybe those things are observing us, soaking up info in those amphibian heads to take over our jobs. You think?”

“This company survives on reports and charts and memos,” Eun-hee said. “Gonna have a hard time typing those up with no fingers.”

“I’m pissed,” Beta said, arriving at the table late after waiting in line for soup.

“Join the club,” Alpha said.

“No, I mean really pissed. My boss says our whole team has to eat at our desks starting tomorrow.”

“No way. Can they do that?”

“They can cut off people’s heads and plunk them in a fish bowl,” Eun-hee said. “I think they can tell us where to eat lunch.”

“This is ridiculous.” Alpha pushed her tray away. “We should just quit. All of us. Get the hell out of this place right now.”

“And pay the rent how?” Beta asked, between rushed spoonfuls of soup. “There are no jobs out there.”

“I don’t know. Work at a fast-food joint. Sell drugs. Steal. Anything would be better than this.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try to pick someone’s pocket with those fat fingers.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love my fat fingers.”

“Nobody’s picking pockets,” Eun-hee said. “Nobody’s selling drugs and nobody’s quitting. They’ve got us exactly where they want us. We’re no better than Gloria.”

For a long moment they all looked at her. Then Beta stood up. “I gotta run. My boss would love it if I’m late.”

“We can’t do this,” Alpha said. “I’m suspending the Klatch until further notice. Effective immediately. We’ll see about resuming once things calm down.”

“If things calm down,” Beta said.

***

Tell us: Would you continue to work at a place like this, what would you do?