Sleuth's initial comment about the manager's fitness for working the mail rooms drew a briefly amused grunt of amusement from the man; it might have been called a chuckle if it had been more than one syllable of exhaled breath, but either way, he seemed to interpret the comment as a joke more than an actual suggestion, and that might be for the best.
"Sorting Manager Eighty-six. Maxwell, if you prefer." He didn't do more than cast an additional cursory glance up at the two for the sake of politeness as he answered the detective's request for his name; he didn't extend a hand to shake either, but instead continued to work, brief lines of code scrolling past his eyes in between rapid tapping at his work station. A small smirk crested his lips as Sleuth continued to explain their reasons for being there, while his tail lashed back and forth behind him. He didn't seem immediately averse to her taking a more suggestive pose on the edge of his desk, for now, but that was likely because it wasn't yet interfering with his work. It did draw an extra glance from him, briefly, and the demon-man's eyes did travel over the appropriately inappropriate places, as Sleuth might have hoped, but the gaze didn't linger long and quickly went back to his job.
"Not a change of policy, just a temp measure to handle workload, but..." Now he did pause and look up properly, eyes moving between the pair. "I probably oughtn't talk about it. You aren't employees, and it's company business. Don't know what you're actually here for but I'm not daft enough to pretend that you rocked up and got your IDs specifically to look into our staffing reallocations..." Then, after a moment of eyeing them, he shrugged and went back to his work.
"Same time, you've got visitor idents all set up correctly for you to be back here, and I don't know who filed those, but it sure as Hades means that it's not my neck sticking out if you get yourselves into any real trouble. Let's see..." The demon drew a long breath, then tapped a few thigns and pushed his key pad away, leaning back in his chair with a creak and looking mostly at Sleuth and her display.
"Bunch of stuff happening just recently, and its meant that we've had a huge, huge up-spike in the amount of mail that's passing through this hub. Some kind of cross continental reroute to capitalise on jump times or something. Beats me, it's mostly human world business. Point is, this system was only made to handle a certain amount safely, and it's pushed right to cap now. That means all the work staff below a certain level have to be basically round the clock and stiff regulated breaks. Means no jack outs or breaks that aren't rigidly controlled." He paused, then frowned.
"You're new here, so you won't know it yet, but everyone who's employed here is a program made and owned by the company. By law, we've got private terminals that we can jack out to, but they're all company controlled, in a server cool room somewhere. We ain't got operators in the normal sense, like I'm guessing you ladies do, so much as just intermittent maintenance by company human staffers, you follow?" He shrugged. "Normal ways, we get time off in fair amounts, mostly, and can go where we like and do what we want, so it's not so bad. I'm not going to complain, at least. sorting managers and above have it better than some. The mail-sluts have it pretty rough, and I don't envy any of those poor girls... and the ones that have to work duplication have it even worse... but the hierarchy works the way it does, and there isn't anything any of us can do about it... so, you know... I do my job, and I pass on the orders, and I hand out the promotions and demotions according to quota whenever I'm supposed to. There's thousands of programs working here, you know... can't really play bleeding heart." His attention shifted to Hyde for a few moments, and his brow furrowed, seeming to notice her distinctly of state of dress, juxtaposed with the woman's professional and somewhat clinical medical assessment of what she'd seen.
"When you say 'her', I'm going to guess you mean one of the mailer girls. I doubt you've been speaking to anyone in duplication, and desk secretaries have it pretty comfortable here, comparatively. Yeah, they're stressed. Not much any of us can do though. Policy is not to disclose required quotas, and few mail-sluts really want to end up shunted down to duplication, so it makes them work as hard as they can. It's a crappy policy." clearly despite being in some kind of managerial position, or at least sub-managerial, this particular middle-man wasn't brimming with company loyalty or pride, and, now that he was talking to the pair, he wasn't afraid to call out the terrible conditions and practices of the system. It seemed, rather, that now that he was committed to it, the demon-man was welcoming a chance to gripe about everything wrong with it to an outside source. After a moment, he turned back to his work and starting tapping away again, though he continued to fill them in as he got back to it.
"From what I hear tell, the whole riot issue out there is happening because of a minor loop-hole. Orders were effective immediately upon receipt of the message... but someone got their message and started spreading word to others not to open theirs. Word got out and we've got a whole lot of mailers and other mid and lower tier employees who haven't, technically, received their own order yet, because they haven't picked it up... but they know what's going to be in it, and they're all rushing out, or trying to, to use up all their remaining normal time off right now, before it goes away. Of course, that's making the pressure on everyone left even higher, so they aren't helping things. But you can't really blame 'em either, can you? But the gates have already been set to the new system, so getting them to let anyone off site is a slow process, and they're all worried that a stop gap is going to be made to send them all back to their stations before they can get away. And it will, before long, and there ain't much we can do about that either." He shook his head, making a vaguely disgusted expression at his screen.
"Least ways, it's supposed to only be a temporary lock down. No one gets anything but the bare minimum of in-house breaks for a few weeks, and no jack-out time to themselves, we sort out the routing loads, and then it all goes back to normal. Only, there's no work on exactly how long this is going to take, or how long the 'temporary' measures are going to be in place. It's all perfectly legal, of course... navi rights aren't exactly as well protected as they ought to be... If some idiot higher up looks at the numbers and decides that he can get a cushier desk space and more time off by keeping this going, then there's no telling if or when it'll ever go back to 'normal. Hmph. Bloody arch-fiends. Bureaucrats, every one of 'em..." At last, he sighed and looked back to each of them briefly.
"Look, ladies, I don't know why you're actually here or what you're hoping to do with any of this information, but if you do go rocking the boat, just leave me out of it, ok? I don't get a lot of time out of the office, but I value what I do get." At this point, he turned more pointedly back to his work, and made a very slight show of pretending not to see Sleuth and Hyde any more; he seemed to have concluded that they were investigators of a much more formal calibre than they actually were, but that was probably to the detective and doctor's benefit.
NAS&MEbn38 (but let's just call it the Mail Exchange)
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"I would feel quite miffed indeed, Miss Hyde. Touche," Sleuth chuckled in response. Dry banter with the silliness-intolerant doctor wasn't bad either, for time to time. Sleuth reminded herself she really ought to be spending less time with the crazy one and more time with the... well, the good one was also standing barefoot in a slime covered coat, seeming oddly care-free about that fact. She wasn't quite all there either. Finished with ribbing her partner, she headed inside to start grilling the middle-manager. Hyde brought up some salient points there too, and did so without sitting inappropriately on any of the man's furniture.
The guy wasn't bad to gab with, as far as only realistically evil corporate types went; his lack of empathy for his underlings and bad attitude towards women both left something to be desired, but it wouldn't take a detective to guess that much out about a manager type in a place like this. The lure she'd set out was getting a couple of nibbles, but a guy like him probably had no need to bite at it when he was surrounded by gorgeous, pleasantly flexible ladies all the time anyway. "You figured out I'm a snoop? What gave it away?" she asked, adjusting her deer-stalker cap with two fingers meaningfully. "Well, no denying these are exciting times we live in. You can walk into Internet City and join the Mafia at a sign up desk! You can sign your life away to wear a bikini for a shogun nobody even knows. You can make the inexplicable choice to join the NetPolice voluntarily! What a laundry list of nonsensical mails people must be sending," she laughed idly. "Oh, but it's just a lot of human fiddle faddle, is it? Oh ho ho. I only dabble. I'm the hands-on type that enjoys putting in the leg work, you know? If I can't be on site, I'm not interested." Sleuth recrossed her legs, smiled to Hyde and gave her a wink as if to say, "be patient," then continued listening.
"Hm... Duplication you say? What sort of mail-related service could that be? I'll feel like a failure if you have to tell me," she thought out loud. The rest wasn't so much material to question; it was all answers, even if they were unappetizing ones. She crossed her arms and lowered her chin, making a show of the laborious thought she was putting it. She had a feeling he'd just keep working and loosely listen for a while, which was good, as it gave her a significant time cushion to speak with. "Well, y'see... When things are illegal, people bring in the NetPolice. When things are just kinda generally screwy in a way that doesn't make any sense, that's when I stick my nose in! That offers a much wider array of situations that I personally feel are just a perfect fit for my handsome mystery-sniffer. Your navi underlings may not realize it yet, but they're a lot like myself. They have no legal recourse, but..." she murmured, then looked for something on his desk that was sticking up, preferably a nameplate, award, or something equally pretentious, and flicked it over with one finger. "They face no legal repercussions either. I'm not trying to make a threat or saying they're going to rise up and turn over desks and set fire to things. Though they might! More specifically, I'm pointing out that's no actual ownership here... navis have options both for re-employment, unoperated navis seeking operators, operated navis seeking asylum for irresponsible operators... And these are not government institutions! So the brains behind this whole operation might think, 'well, I paid for my property, the government can't do anything about it.' But again, we're not talking about what's legal. We're talking about what's possible. And..."
Here, to emphasize she was doing something important, she shifted and placed one hand atop his monitor, leaning over slightly if he still insisted on resisting eye contact. "I won't bore you with how this is all going to fall apart, but you yourself just admitted that you're amidst a lag in workforce that is never going to quite be caught up upon, at the rate things are going. So I'm amazed you're sitting here calmly in your office and pretending that this is never going to affect you. Now, you don't work for the NetPolice, so again, wipe that non-existent sweat from your forehead: no legal repercussion is likely to come your way. However, let's think about who you do work for: the people whose mail you're- sorry, the sluts- all sorting! Once their emails start bouncing or vanishing into the void, they aren't going to send you a nasty e-mail, that's just silly; who'd sort it? The great part about navis is that they can do these things in person. And do you think your bikini-clad mail sorters are going to take care of it, or do you think that whichever stick around are going to be a little busy? Who does that leave next up the chain to take care of the complainers? Not the Overlords, of course: the stiffs like you! How does that sound, a day full of explaining these same labor bumps you just explained to me to your customers who have a stake in it? All the while trying to replace your slave labor- sorry, that's derogatory. Slut labor, of course," she elaborated, waving one gloved hand absently.
"So, if you're content to keep watching the CountBomb as the number changes, then by all means, get back to your Solitaire game," Sleuth finished, standing back up and flexing her hands together. "But, if you'd like to turn back the stool sandwich before it reaches your lips, then might I suggest explaining what a foolish decision has been made to the cackling cast of Overlords who came up with this hair-brained mandate? Perhaps a little slow mail is better than no mail, hm? Perhaps you can even... scale down this nice office of yours and invest in, I don't know, any kind of office at all for the workers, to help incentivize them not to turn that vacation into a staycation? This is actually kind of amusing! The net sure is wacky, isn't it? I can explain to you, an amusing mixture of modern businessman and wild-west slave-trader, why the vast majority of businesses on the informed net have now eschewed slave labor in the morning, and in the afternoon, I could go hang out with imperialists in the style of the feudal Electopian period and explain to them why they're crumb-heads for thinking they can accomplish everything through dynastic expansion! The net is just filled to the brink with folks just a little nastier than I am, and you've seen how annoying I can be," she finished, shaking her head and showing her smuggest, beaming smile.
At this point, she tipped her cap to Hyde. "Anything you'd care to add? As a medical professional, of course. I do have a chronic running of the mouth I'm told I ought to get checked out." It had, of course, occurred to Sleuth that she might be putting the job security or otherwise the well-being of the mail-room girls in danger by going this route, but she was the type who was going to butt in to people's affairs and try to fix them, even if her help was totally unwanted.
The guy wasn't bad to gab with, as far as only realistically evil corporate types went; his lack of empathy for his underlings and bad attitude towards women both left something to be desired, but it wouldn't take a detective to guess that much out about a manager type in a place like this. The lure she'd set out was getting a couple of nibbles, but a guy like him probably had no need to bite at it when he was surrounded by gorgeous, pleasantly flexible ladies all the time anyway. "You figured out I'm a snoop? What gave it away?" she asked, adjusting her deer-stalker cap with two fingers meaningfully. "Well, no denying these are exciting times we live in. You can walk into Internet City and join the Mafia at a sign up desk! You can sign your life away to wear a bikini for a shogun nobody even knows. You can make the inexplicable choice to join the NetPolice voluntarily! What a laundry list of nonsensical mails people must be sending," she laughed idly. "Oh, but it's just a lot of human fiddle faddle, is it? Oh ho ho. I only dabble. I'm the hands-on type that enjoys putting in the leg work, you know? If I can't be on site, I'm not interested." Sleuth recrossed her legs, smiled to Hyde and gave her a wink as if to say, "be patient," then continued listening.
"Hm... Duplication you say? What sort of mail-related service could that be? I'll feel like a failure if you have to tell me," she thought out loud. The rest wasn't so much material to question; it was all answers, even if they were unappetizing ones. She crossed her arms and lowered her chin, making a show of the laborious thought she was putting it. She had a feeling he'd just keep working and loosely listen for a while, which was good, as it gave her a significant time cushion to speak with. "Well, y'see... When things are illegal, people bring in the NetPolice. When things are just kinda generally screwy in a way that doesn't make any sense, that's when I stick my nose in! That offers a much wider array of situations that I personally feel are just a perfect fit for my handsome mystery-sniffer. Your navi underlings may not realize it yet, but they're a lot like myself. They have no legal recourse, but..." she murmured, then looked for something on his desk that was sticking up, preferably a nameplate, award, or something equally pretentious, and flicked it over with one finger. "They face no legal repercussions either. I'm not trying to make a threat or saying they're going to rise up and turn over desks and set fire to things. Though they might! More specifically, I'm pointing out that's no actual ownership here... navis have options both for re-employment, unoperated navis seeking operators, operated navis seeking asylum for irresponsible operators... And these are not government institutions! So the brains behind this whole operation might think, 'well, I paid for my property, the government can't do anything about it.' But again, we're not talking about what's legal. We're talking about what's possible. And..."
Here, to emphasize she was doing something important, she shifted and placed one hand atop his monitor, leaning over slightly if he still insisted on resisting eye contact. "I won't bore you with how this is all going to fall apart, but you yourself just admitted that you're amidst a lag in workforce that is never going to quite be caught up upon, at the rate things are going. So I'm amazed you're sitting here calmly in your office and pretending that this is never going to affect you. Now, you don't work for the NetPolice, so again, wipe that non-existent sweat from your forehead: no legal repercussion is likely to come your way. However, let's think about who you do work for: the people whose mail you're- sorry, the sluts- all sorting! Once their emails start bouncing or vanishing into the void, they aren't going to send you a nasty e-mail, that's just silly; who'd sort it? The great part about navis is that they can do these things in person. And do you think your bikini-clad mail sorters are going to take care of it, or do you think that whichever stick around are going to be a little busy? Who does that leave next up the chain to take care of the complainers? Not the Overlords, of course: the stiffs like you! How does that sound, a day full of explaining these same labor bumps you just explained to me to your customers who have a stake in it? All the while trying to replace your slave labor- sorry, that's derogatory. Slut labor, of course," she elaborated, waving one gloved hand absently.
"So, if you're content to keep watching the CountBomb as the number changes, then by all means, get back to your Solitaire game," Sleuth finished, standing back up and flexing her hands together. "But, if you'd like to turn back the stool sandwich before it reaches your lips, then might I suggest explaining what a foolish decision has been made to the cackling cast of Overlords who came up with this hair-brained mandate? Perhaps a little slow mail is better than no mail, hm? Perhaps you can even... scale down this nice office of yours and invest in, I don't know, any kind of office at all for the workers, to help incentivize them not to turn that vacation into a staycation? This is actually kind of amusing! The net sure is wacky, isn't it? I can explain to you, an amusing mixture of modern businessman and wild-west slave-trader, why the vast majority of businesses on the informed net have now eschewed slave labor in the morning, and in the afternoon, I could go hang out with imperialists in the style of the feudal Electopian period and explain to them why they're crumb-heads for thinking they can accomplish everything through dynastic expansion! The net is just filled to the brink with folks just a little nastier than I am, and you've seen how annoying I can be," she finished, shaking her head and showing her smuggest, beaming smile.
At this point, she tipped her cap to Hyde. "Anything you'd care to add? As a medical professional, of course. I do have a chronic running of the mouth I'm told I ought to get checked out." It had, of course, occurred to Sleuth that she might be putting the job security or otherwise the well-being of the mail-room girls in danger by going this route, but she was the type who was going to butt in to people's affairs and try to fix them, even if her help was totally unwanted.
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Hyde kept mostly quiet as Sleuth continued getting her verbal ripostes in, not sharing her love of getting the word in edgewise. The doctor continued to watch Sleuth enjoy her theatrics, although her mood soured as she sensed the detective intended to give the sub-manager a hard time. In particular, Hyde's brow furrowed as Sleuth dove into her thoughts on Navi ownership and self-determination.
The doctor began to consider jumping into the conversation at that point: she thought convincing a sub-manager to up-end an entire mail system of a thousand Navis or more was far above the pay-grade of their mission and beyond their own qualifications. However, what truly bothered her was Sleuth's insistence that a Navi wasn't beholden to the function they were programmed for and the operator who created them. "I'm programmed to be a doctor of the Net and medical technology assistant for the physical world. I represent a major investment on the part of my creators, of time, effort, money, and reputation. I could hardly leave my programming behind and run off..." Acknowledging she'd made that strangely personal, the doctor shook her head to clear it. "More importantly, Maxwell just stated that these Navis are hosted on PETs in storage. If any of them did engage in some sort of major rebellion in an attempt to change their fortunes, it would be a simple matter for the material owners of the PET to perform a reset. Leaving aside the philosophical questions of whether a Navi has a 'soul' or if there are parts of them that can't be re-programmed or removed, I have no doubt the rebels among them could be, at least, excised, contained, and replaced. Perhaps I'm being presumptuous about my understanding of the workings here, as well..." The doctor even allowed herself to briefly consider how much knowledge Maxwell had about the system: it didn't sound as though he was privy to the specific plans of the very highest tier of managers, at least.
Hyde had frustrated herself working out her opinions internally. For as frustrating and incisive as Sleuth could be, she at least had to respect that the woman appeared to have her own thoughts in order without having to mull through them. She hadn't bothered to say a word as Sleuth spoke, but since her opinion was solicited, she cleared her throat. "Maxwell... I don't know about all of the arm-twisting or if you specifically should fear the far-ranging repercussions here. I will say, however, that you appear to have a useful perspective on the workings of the company, and you appear to have an idea of the storm on the horizon if this keeps up. I know you'd be sticking your neck out to bring your concern to your supervisors, and I'm sure you're quite busy, but... isn't there something you can do? Especially in light of the current breakdown of their system, your superiors might be quite receptive to good ideas on improving it... And, if Sleuth's guess is correct, the cascading consequences of the upcoming changes could ultimately reach the sub-managers." Hyde intended to agree with Sleuth on this point, but she wasn't generous enough to call her intuition anything more than a guess.
"If the higher-ups see that they can push mail s-... sorters, why stop there? I'm sure you can see the implications to your own interests... that important vacation time you mentioned. Agh!" the doctor suddenly paused, waving her hands in front of her and wincing. "I'm sorry, I'm doing the same thing, like I'm trying to intimidate you, but that's certainly not my intention. I'm only trying to say what's best for you and MaiDae..."
The doctor began to consider jumping into the conversation at that point: she thought convincing a sub-manager to up-end an entire mail system of a thousand Navis or more was far above the pay-grade of their mission and beyond their own qualifications. However, what truly bothered her was Sleuth's insistence that a Navi wasn't beholden to the function they were programmed for and the operator who created them. "I'm programmed to be a doctor of the Net and medical technology assistant for the physical world. I represent a major investment on the part of my creators, of time, effort, money, and reputation. I could hardly leave my programming behind and run off..." Acknowledging she'd made that strangely personal, the doctor shook her head to clear it. "More importantly, Maxwell just stated that these Navis are hosted on PETs in storage. If any of them did engage in some sort of major rebellion in an attempt to change their fortunes, it would be a simple matter for the material owners of the PET to perform a reset. Leaving aside the philosophical questions of whether a Navi has a 'soul' or if there are parts of them that can't be re-programmed or removed, I have no doubt the rebels among them could be, at least, excised, contained, and replaced. Perhaps I'm being presumptuous about my understanding of the workings here, as well..." The doctor even allowed herself to briefly consider how much knowledge Maxwell had about the system: it didn't sound as though he was privy to the specific plans of the very highest tier of managers, at least.
Hyde had frustrated herself working out her opinions internally. For as frustrating and incisive as Sleuth could be, she at least had to respect that the woman appeared to have her own thoughts in order without having to mull through them. She hadn't bothered to say a word as Sleuth spoke, but since her opinion was solicited, she cleared her throat. "Maxwell... I don't know about all of the arm-twisting or if you specifically should fear the far-ranging repercussions here. I will say, however, that you appear to have a useful perspective on the workings of the company, and you appear to have an idea of the storm on the horizon if this keeps up. I know you'd be sticking your neck out to bring your concern to your supervisors, and I'm sure you're quite busy, but... isn't there something you can do? Especially in light of the current breakdown of their system, your superiors might be quite receptive to good ideas on improving it... And, if Sleuth's guess is correct, the cascading consequences of the upcoming changes could ultimately reach the sub-managers." Hyde intended to agree with Sleuth on this point, but she wasn't generous enough to call her intuition anything more than a guess.
"If the higher-ups see that they can push mail s-... sorters, why stop there? I'm sure you can see the implications to your own interests... that important vacation time you mentioned. Agh!" the doctor suddenly paused, waving her hands in front of her and wincing. "I'm sorry, I'm doing the same thing, like I'm trying to intimidate you, but that's certainly not my intention. I'm only trying to say what's best for you and MaiDae..."
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Sleuth began to break out the thumb screws as she chatted, and as she laid on her only partially veiled implications and intimidations, the managerial demon looked back to her, mostly with the cast of his eyes, while he kept working away. Occasional bursts of text and number strings scrolled past his eyes while he tapped at the keys, though his attention was mostly on her. Sadly, she wasn't' able to find anything symbolic on his desk to flick over, but she could nevertheless be fairly confident that she was making her point clearly to him.
The effect her words had was more questionable. He didn't seem intimidated or worried, but he didn't look confident or amused either. More than anything, the red-skinned man just looked tired, and if anything, a little bit sad. He let her finish and then raised an eyebrow to Hyde as she sidled in with a much more considerate good-cop response.
"Look, ladies, I appreciate what you're trying to do here... but you've got to understand, the Arch-fiends are the only ones with any real freedom or much in the way of free lives. Even they're beholden to the human-side execs... My job is to send memos and collate numbers, issue warnings and reassignments and monitor quotas, that's really all I do. the girls aren't 'my' underlings... I just manage a few hundred of them. There's more'n a hundred other 'managers' like me in this exchange, and this exchange is branch thirty eight of the Netopian ad-service and mail exchange system." He frowned briefly, eyes focusing on Sleuth in particular again for a moment. His tail flicked back and forth more rapidly, perhaps in mild agitation.
"And I'll have you know it's not slave labour at all. The wages are pretty damn good. It's crummy work, in crummy, broken system... but what little time we get to ourselves we can splash out as comfortably as we want, more or less. Even the mail girls get a very generous pay grade to compensate for the long hours..." He lifted one hand off the keys of his work station to wave that part of the discussion away, though it went right back to tapping after he finished the gesture.
"No, I'm not content with things being as they are, it's a terrible way to run a business... but it is legal, like it or not. They're pretty careful about making sure they follow all of our rights to the letter and not a hair more, and there's loop holes here and there they can exploit. Navi rights laws aren't exactly as robust as they should be, we all know that... and especially where it comes to corporate entities, that stuff just isn't adequately covered... but there ain't a damn thing any of us can do about it, save, maybe, talking blunt and honest to some tourist couple with a fancy one-op-one-navi luxury, who poked their noses in on a chance and happened to ask some questions, you follow?" His voice had grown a little exasperated as he went on; he'd made it clear he wasn't a bleeding heart for the other employees, particularly, but he wasn't blind to how bad things were for many of them, and there was a small edge of annoyed helplessness to his words.
"So you can talk about uprisings and repercussions all you like, but I get the feeling you don't understand how it goes here. Everyone in this exchange, myself included, were created and programmed in-house, by the corporation, for the corporation. Only reason we've got proper AIs at all, and aren't just mindless generic programs, is because they needed thinking employees to do the work. So they pay us, and they mind out rights, because they've got to, but every PET is in a cold server room, and they're checked each shift change by one or two interns, and that's it. We've got auto-jacks for when we do get free time, but if someone isn't in place for their shift, it's just a button from the intern to put them back at their work station with a discipline note." With a small wince, he tilted his head back and forth and made a vaguely dismissing gesture with one hand.
"Sometimes we get a defect or two, rarely... a navi might get fed up and use the small amount of jack-out time we get to slip free and go rogue. It gets chalked into the allowable corporate shrinkage margin. Doesn't happen often. I think you ladies might underestimate just how terrifying the concept of being rogue is for most navis. You live your whole life with an emergency system, and suddenly the concept of actual mortality is enough to stop most anyone from really considering it. Might be ok for you two... you look capable. Can probably defend yourselves pretty well if you need to, I imagine? Most of us, not so much. Th girls are rioting now, sure, and maybe a few of them will think this is the last straw, a bit more than otherwise. Maybe when they're next jacked out and left unattended, they'll do something about it. Maybe if they had jack-out time in the foreseeable future that might mean something. But we don't, not right now. So I do do my job, I send the memos, and I crunch the numbers, and when I see that the memos aren't being opened, I send them as emails to the PETs instead, and I keep my horns down." At this point, the demon man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding it into a protracted scrub at his face with the hand. He pushed the key pad away and rested his chin in one hand, elbow on the desk.
"Maidy... did you know about seventy in every hundred of the girls take that moniker for themselves, whenever they're out talking to other navis? Calling yourself '8-3-2' doesn't really help you feel like a legitimate person after all." He waved his other hand to forestall any worry. "I checked who set up your IDs. Don't know what that one was up to, but if you two end up taking some of this information and doing something useful with it, I should thank her. Look... there's nothing I can tell my higher-ups about how rotten this all is that they don't already know and not care about. They've got it pretty well set up so that there's not much anyone can do in terms of dissent that they can't fix quickly and painlessly... on their end, anyway." He looked across the Hyde now, and sat up in his seat properly, shifting his large form into a better posture and rubbing at the back of his neck.
"There is something I can do, and I'm doing it now. It's talking to you two about this, and knowing that you're untouchable. You want to do something useful about any of this, then you'll take everything I've told you, and bring it to someone that can do something. I don't know who, but there must be some group out there, or some organisation that can give us all another recourse. Maybe there's somewhere a navi can go, or people they can talk to that'll help them... seek re-employment options, as you put it, and isn't afraid of getting sued for property theft if they do. Like I said, the pay is good for the work, harsh hours or not... but we can't just stand up and say we'd like to quit if we wanted to, and it would be very nice for some of the girls down there if they could. That's really all I can give you, ladies. I hope you do something useful with it." At that, he raised both hands slightly, palms up as though apologising, and glanced back and forth between them once more. After an extra second he turned back to his work.
"I've got to keep working. We've all got our quotas, after all. I'd appreciate if you didn't mention me to anyone you do talk to on the outside." It seemed like something of a dismissal at least, though they could probably have the last word if they wanted to. The main question was probably what, exactly, if anything at all, Sleuth and Hyde really wanted to do with the information they'd been passed. It seemed possible that there might be nothing else they could do about any of this right now, today, but there was no denying that the system was unduly cruel and in need of change.
The effect her words had was more questionable. He didn't seem intimidated or worried, but he didn't look confident or amused either. More than anything, the red-skinned man just looked tired, and if anything, a little bit sad. He let her finish and then raised an eyebrow to Hyde as she sidled in with a much more considerate good-cop response.
"Look, ladies, I appreciate what you're trying to do here... but you've got to understand, the Arch-fiends are the only ones with any real freedom or much in the way of free lives. Even they're beholden to the human-side execs... My job is to send memos and collate numbers, issue warnings and reassignments and monitor quotas, that's really all I do. the girls aren't 'my' underlings... I just manage a few hundred of them. There's more'n a hundred other 'managers' like me in this exchange, and this exchange is branch thirty eight of the Netopian ad-service and mail exchange system." He frowned briefly, eyes focusing on Sleuth in particular again for a moment. His tail flicked back and forth more rapidly, perhaps in mild agitation.
"And I'll have you know it's not slave labour at all. The wages are pretty damn good. It's crummy work, in crummy, broken system... but what little time we get to ourselves we can splash out as comfortably as we want, more or less. Even the mail girls get a very generous pay grade to compensate for the long hours..." He lifted one hand off the keys of his work station to wave that part of the discussion away, though it went right back to tapping after he finished the gesture.
"No, I'm not content with things being as they are, it's a terrible way to run a business... but it is legal, like it or not. They're pretty careful about making sure they follow all of our rights to the letter and not a hair more, and there's loop holes here and there they can exploit. Navi rights laws aren't exactly as robust as they should be, we all know that... and especially where it comes to corporate entities, that stuff just isn't adequately covered... but there ain't a damn thing any of us can do about it, save, maybe, talking blunt and honest to some tourist couple with a fancy one-op-one-navi luxury, who poked their noses in on a chance and happened to ask some questions, you follow?" His voice had grown a little exasperated as he went on; he'd made it clear he wasn't a bleeding heart for the other employees, particularly, but he wasn't blind to how bad things were for many of them, and there was a small edge of annoyed helplessness to his words.
"So you can talk about uprisings and repercussions all you like, but I get the feeling you don't understand how it goes here. Everyone in this exchange, myself included, were created and programmed in-house, by the corporation, for the corporation. Only reason we've got proper AIs at all, and aren't just mindless generic programs, is because they needed thinking employees to do the work. So they pay us, and they mind out rights, because they've got to, but every PET is in a cold server room, and they're checked each shift change by one or two interns, and that's it. We've got auto-jacks for when we do get free time, but if someone isn't in place for their shift, it's just a button from the intern to put them back at their work station with a discipline note." With a small wince, he tilted his head back and forth and made a vaguely dismissing gesture with one hand.
"Sometimes we get a defect or two, rarely... a navi might get fed up and use the small amount of jack-out time we get to slip free and go rogue. It gets chalked into the allowable corporate shrinkage margin. Doesn't happen often. I think you ladies might underestimate just how terrifying the concept of being rogue is for most navis. You live your whole life with an emergency system, and suddenly the concept of actual mortality is enough to stop most anyone from really considering it. Might be ok for you two... you look capable. Can probably defend yourselves pretty well if you need to, I imagine? Most of us, not so much. Th girls are rioting now, sure, and maybe a few of them will think this is the last straw, a bit more than otherwise. Maybe when they're next jacked out and left unattended, they'll do something about it. Maybe if they had jack-out time in the foreseeable future that might mean something. But we don't, not right now. So I do do my job, I send the memos, and I crunch the numbers, and when I see that the memos aren't being opened, I send them as emails to the PETs instead, and I keep my horns down." At this point, the demon man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding it into a protracted scrub at his face with the hand. He pushed the key pad away and rested his chin in one hand, elbow on the desk.
"Maidy... did you know about seventy in every hundred of the girls take that moniker for themselves, whenever they're out talking to other navis? Calling yourself '8-3-2' doesn't really help you feel like a legitimate person after all." He waved his other hand to forestall any worry. "I checked who set up your IDs. Don't know what that one was up to, but if you two end up taking some of this information and doing something useful with it, I should thank her. Look... there's nothing I can tell my higher-ups about how rotten this all is that they don't already know and not care about. They've got it pretty well set up so that there's not much anyone can do in terms of dissent that they can't fix quickly and painlessly... on their end, anyway." He looked across the Hyde now, and sat up in his seat properly, shifting his large form into a better posture and rubbing at the back of his neck.
"There is something I can do, and I'm doing it now. It's talking to you two about this, and knowing that you're untouchable. You want to do something useful about any of this, then you'll take everything I've told you, and bring it to someone that can do something. I don't know who, but there must be some group out there, or some organisation that can give us all another recourse. Maybe there's somewhere a navi can go, or people they can talk to that'll help them... seek re-employment options, as you put it, and isn't afraid of getting sued for property theft if they do. Like I said, the pay is good for the work, harsh hours or not... but we can't just stand up and say we'd like to quit if we wanted to, and it would be very nice for some of the girls down there if they could. That's really all I can give you, ladies. I hope you do something useful with it." At that, he raised both hands slightly, palms up as though apologising, and glanced back and forth between them once more. After an extra second he turned back to his work.
"I've got to keep working. We've all got our quotas, after all. I'd appreciate if you didn't mention me to anyone you do talk to on the outside." It seemed like something of a dismissal at least, though they could probably have the last word if they wanted to. The main question was probably what, exactly, if anything at all, Sleuth and Hyde really wanted to do with the information they'd been passed. It seemed possible that there might be nothing else they could do about any of this right now, today, but there was no denying that the system was unduly cruel and in need of change.
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It sounded to Sleuth like neither Hyde nor the desk jockey really cared for her brand of arm-twisting nor her brand of self-assured conjecture, but in her experience, people rarely did. She reflected, however, that he'd been pretty forthcoming all things considered and that also, she wouldn't mind having someone follow her around and appear to be more level-headed while actually asking for about the same outcome as herself, as it made for a nice psychological twist. "Wait just a minute... this is branch 'thirty-eight?' With 100 managers, each with 100 monitored navis? So you mean to tell me that there are roughly 10,000 employees active here, 9,900 of them essentially manning glory-holes full of mail in bikinis, and that's how that many people are getting their mail in Netopia?!" she asked, placing one hand on her forehead with an honestly astounded expression. "My word! What a bizarre turn of events. The things you never know unless you stick your nose in!" She sounded remarkably pleased with this bit of trivia, though it was quite possible she was again jumping the gun with another assumption.
She rolled one hand dismissively at his arguments against the slave labor charge. "So maybe you're not the perpetrator and maybe the pay isn't bad, but so what? Soon it's going to be mandatory, 24 hour work. That may not be slave labor but it's darn close," she complained, smiling but sounding unimpressed. "Oh, but I do appreciate you doing what you can. There is no better way to sate me then to make yourself an open book, I'll assure you of that. Well, there is one way that's close, but neither you nor I have the time for it right now," the detective chuckled dryly, though the wink she gave after, as always, seemed to imply that she was not particularly picky with either the person, place, or time with which she was sated.
She raised her eyebrow and tilted her chin up in a basterdly, challenging expression; Maxwell's being forthcoming did nothing to mitigate her stand-offish behavior. "So you're saying that there were already a few runaways before this latest implementation, even though, in your own words, being rogue is such a scary concept for the average navi? And I agree, it certainly is. That's all the more reason that everyone involved needs to be much more wary than they apparently are," she warned him, wagging her finger. "At any rate, it does sound like you've really done all you can here. Don't worry, I'll be sure not to tell anyone about the friendly advice you've given us. And I do agree that for now, perhaps the best thing you can do is keep this sham of a system running as efficiently as it can be," the detective shrugged, kicking back up to her feet with a juvenile motion that didn't befit a tall lady in a suit.
"Come along, Miss Hyde. We will, it seems, need to tackle this in a different manner," she finished, crossing her arms as she walked out, pushing the door open with one palm without taking her arm from its crook. If the doctor did indeed follow her outside, she'd pause outside, first looking both ways to make sure they were relatively alone, then lowering her head pensively and keeping her voice quiet. "Well, it's a real pickle. We've solved the case but as is often my stopping point, this situation is one that seemingly must be handled by a corporation, not a single detective. That's the stupid thing about being trapped on this side of the glass; even though I'm free to move about how I like on the net and pursue 'my man,' sometimes I find 'my man' is unreachable on the other side. This is not a situation the NetPolice can logically handle; bringing it to them would likely embarrass them for their lack of jurisdiction, as so many things do, but the truth is that if the navis have not been taken and pressed into some kind of labor and instead are working their intended jobs with wages- the wages actually being a bit above what a navi is technically promised- the law doesn't offer them much recourse. Even navi abuse specialists likely can't do much for them here... it's much easier to take on an individual in those battles than a corporation."
She checked to make sure Maxwell's door had been closed properly (not that it had been earlier, luckily), she continued. "This is where it helps not to be associated with the NetPolice... because the best recourse of these navis is likely in means that are not strictly legal. I wouldn't go to the Mafia for anything, of course... any compliance they give you is certainly either a debt to be held against or worse, a trap for their own amusement. That said, this situation can only be resolved by something that can prevent a jack-out mechanism or sever the navi's tie to their PET, and there are very few navis or organizations with the clout to be capable of that. Of course... I tend to tango with such people as regularly as I can, living dangerously and all. For now, I think we should keep this situation in mind, and when next I encounter such a person or organization, I'll put a word in about the situation here. In the mean time, there are matters I must look into as a next step, as well as simply to satisfy my own curiosity... who are the madmen who designed and perpetuate this sort of mail-sorting system? Could it possibly be the same at other divisions as well? Do users of this system understand the machinery by which their mail is being delivered? There are many questions to unravel."
She paused here, pressed one finger to her lip, then smiled. "Plenty of questions, but of course, I've also got my own open investigation awaiting its own answers. My number one pro-bono client," she chuckled, slapping one hand up and down twice upon her sour companion's shoulder. "What do you say? I doubt the visitor's pass is going to get us in to meet one of those overlords he mentioned, and despite Maidy's hope that we could help, I believe we've hit a stopping point. A detective's work is never as quick as she or their client wants it to be, unfortunately," she sighed, before immediately going to her next train of thought. "I wonder if this is a contracted private entity working for the government, or wholly a government function? Hm hm... If the Netopian government on the outside stands to be embarrassed by someone knowing how the sausage is made, that could play to our advantage. However, if that was the case, we never would have managed to walk around back there," she mused, pressing her fist to her chin thoughtfully. Despite her insistence that they'd reached a dead end here, she didn't seem to be anywhere near done asking questions.
She rolled one hand dismissively at his arguments against the slave labor charge. "So maybe you're not the perpetrator and maybe the pay isn't bad, but so what? Soon it's going to be mandatory, 24 hour work. That may not be slave labor but it's darn close," she complained, smiling but sounding unimpressed. "Oh, but I do appreciate you doing what you can. There is no better way to sate me then to make yourself an open book, I'll assure you of that. Well, there is one way that's close, but neither you nor I have the time for it right now," the detective chuckled dryly, though the wink she gave after, as always, seemed to imply that she was not particularly picky with either the person, place, or time with which she was sated.
She raised her eyebrow and tilted her chin up in a basterdly, challenging expression; Maxwell's being forthcoming did nothing to mitigate her stand-offish behavior. "So you're saying that there were already a few runaways before this latest implementation, even though, in your own words, being rogue is such a scary concept for the average navi? And I agree, it certainly is. That's all the more reason that everyone involved needs to be much more wary than they apparently are," she warned him, wagging her finger. "At any rate, it does sound like you've really done all you can here. Don't worry, I'll be sure not to tell anyone about the friendly advice you've given us. And I do agree that for now, perhaps the best thing you can do is keep this sham of a system running as efficiently as it can be," the detective shrugged, kicking back up to her feet with a juvenile motion that didn't befit a tall lady in a suit.
"Come along, Miss Hyde. We will, it seems, need to tackle this in a different manner," she finished, crossing her arms as she walked out, pushing the door open with one palm without taking her arm from its crook. If the doctor did indeed follow her outside, she'd pause outside, first looking both ways to make sure they were relatively alone, then lowering her head pensively and keeping her voice quiet. "Well, it's a real pickle. We've solved the case but as is often my stopping point, this situation is one that seemingly must be handled by a corporation, not a single detective. That's the stupid thing about being trapped on this side of the glass; even though I'm free to move about how I like on the net and pursue 'my man,' sometimes I find 'my man' is unreachable on the other side. This is not a situation the NetPolice can logically handle; bringing it to them would likely embarrass them for their lack of jurisdiction, as so many things do, but the truth is that if the navis have not been taken and pressed into some kind of labor and instead are working their intended jobs with wages- the wages actually being a bit above what a navi is technically promised- the law doesn't offer them much recourse. Even navi abuse specialists likely can't do much for them here... it's much easier to take on an individual in those battles than a corporation."
She checked to make sure Maxwell's door had been closed properly (not that it had been earlier, luckily), she continued. "This is where it helps not to be associated with the NetPolice... because the best recourse of these navis is likely in means that are not strictly legal. I wouldn't go to the Mafia for anything, of course... any compliance they give you is certainly either a debt to be held against or worse, a trap for their own amusement. That said, this situation can only be resolved by something that can prevent a jack-out mechanism or sever the navi's tie to their PET, and there are very few navis or organizations with the clout to be capable of that. Of course... I tend to tango with such people as regularly as I can, living dangerously and all. For now, I think we should keep this situation in mind, and when next I encounter such a person or organization, I'll put a word in about the situation here. In the mean time, there are matters I must look into as a next step, as well as simply to satisfy my own curiosity... who are the madmen who designed and perpetuate this sort of mail-sorting system? Could it possibly be the same at other divisions as well? Do users of this system understand the machinery by which their mail is being delivered? There are many questions to unravel."
She paused here, pressed one finger to her lip, then smiled. "Plenty of questions, but of course, I've also got my own open investigation awaiting its own answers. My number one pro-bono client," she chuckled, slapping one hand up and down twice upon her sour companion's shoulder. "What do you say? I doubt the visitor's pass is going to get us in to meet one of those overlords he mentioned, and despite Maidy's hope that we could help, I believe we've hit a stopping point. A detective's work is never as quick as she or their client wants it to be, unfortunately," she sighed, before immediately going to her next train of thought. "I wonder if this is a contracted private entity working for the government, or wholly a government function? Hm hm... If the Netopian government on the outside stands to be embarrassed by someone knowing how the sausage is made, that could play to our advantage. However, if that was the case, we never would have managed to walk around back there," she mused, pressing her fist to her chin thoughtfully. Despite her insistence that they'd reached a dead end here, she didn't seem to be anywhere near done asking questions.
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Hyde listened to Maxwell's rebuttal with her arms again folded beneath her cloak, remarking inwardly once again at the manager's patience. Then again, he was painting a picture of a relatively monotonous and uneventful profession; maybe he was actually enjoying the chance to talk shop with two curious ladies, so long as he could work while he did so. In any case, the notion that the ladies were actually making fair wages hadn't occurred to her. She didn't have expensive hobbies herself, but she couldn't deny that her own pay grade definitely helped keep her morale up considering the high tension and long hours of her work. Furthermore, the doctor was guilt-tripped a bit further as she admitted she'd always taken it for granted that she'd have a dedicated operator. True, she'd recently passed between hands, but there was certainly a world of difference in the self-determination opportunities for an operated and unoperated Navi.
So lost in her own thoughts, Hyde had mostly ignored Sleuth's continued aggravation. Just as she was becoming aware of it again and thinking of convincing her partner to finally give it a rest, it seemed that Sleuth had come to her own conclusion. "Well, thank you again, Maxwell. We'll leave you to your work." She really wanted to extend for a handshake, but she felt like making him lose a hand for even a moment might finally succeed in getting his goat. Instead, she gave him a small smile. "Hopefully, the higher ups will have a moment of clarity and do right by their workers..." She wanted to add they'd do what they could to help, but if she was being honest, the doctor really had no idea how she was going to accomplish it. If Sleuth left the office without a leading tug to her ear, she had to assume her partner didn't, either.
Hyde excused herself from the office and met the detective on the other side of the door. She listened to Sleuth lay the situation out about as she'd already understood it, nodding. "Of course, I'll do the same if the opportunity arises... Hmm, I wonder how often a Navi gets such an opportunity, though..." Sleuth had more questions than Hyde herself did, but she had to admit there was one thing she was curious about. "Nobody's explained what 'duplication' is yet, either, though I have my ideas and I'd just as soon not verify them."
Flinching slightly as her partner gave her a self-serving pat on the back, the Navi frowned. "Yes, I'd say we're, unfortunately, at the end of our walk here." She listened to Sleuth go on a bit longer, frowning harder. Finally, she cleared her throat, putting her hands on her hips (a gesture which opened her cloak a bit at the hem to give a better look at her bare feet). "Rather, I should say unless you have any flashes of inspiration or absolutely biting questions to answer, we really ought to get out of everyone's way."
So lost in her own thoughts, Hyde had mostly ignored Sleuth's continued aggravation. Just as she was becoming aware of it again and thinking of convincing her partner to finally give it a rest, it seemed that Sleuth had come to her own conclusion. "Well, thank you again, Maxwell. We'll leave you to your work." She really wanted to extend for a handshake, but she felt like making him lose a hand for even a moment might finally succeed in getting his goat. Instead, she gave him a small smile. "Hopefully, the higher ups will have a moment of clarity and do right by their workers..." She wanted to add they'd do what they could to help, but if she was being honest, the doctor really had no idea how she was going to accomplish it. If Sleuth left the office without a leading tug to her ear, she had to assume her partner didn't, either.
Hyde excused herself from the office and met the detective on the other side of the door. She listened to Sleuth lay the situation out about as she'd already understood it, nodding. "Of course, I'll do the same if the opportunity arises... Hmm, I wonder how often a Navi gets such an opportunity, though..." Sleuth had more questions than Hyde herself did, but she had to admit there was one thing she was curious about. "Nobody's explained what 'duplication' is yet, either, though I have my ideas and I'd just as soon not verify them."
Flinching slightly as her partner gave her a self-serving pat on the back, the Navi frowned. "Yes, I'd say we're, unfortunately, at the end of our walk here." She listened to Sleuth go on a bit longer, frowning harder. Finally, she cleared her throat, putting her hands on her hips (a gesture which opened her cloak a bit at the hem to give a better look at her bare feet). "Rather, I should say unless you have any flashes of inspiration or absolutely biting questions to answer, we really ought to get out of everyone's way."
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The two investigative navis both came to the conclusion that they'd learned more or less as much as they could; Sleuth's final questions got brief answers from the large managerial demon man; a rough laugh and acknowledgement that this was, indeed, how most people in the greater Netopia region were getting most of their mail these days, and wouldn't it upset little old ladies everywhere if they knew; no, there wasn't time for her offer unless she wanted to entertain herself while he kept working, and a final, mildly resigned affirmation that the higer-ups knew and didn't care about the occasional run away, since they just purchased and programmed a replacement right away. By the time both women were leaving, he gave them each a curt nod and let them go without and more difficulty.
Out in the hall again, as Sleuth and Hyde chatted to each other about the situation and gradually ambled back towards the entrance foyer, the clamouring of voices had largely subdued. The steps were easy enough to trace back, and the sign-age helped if that wasn't enough, but by the time they reached the lobby they'd arrived in, a small stream of mailer daemons, most of whom looked like very similar variations on Maidy were filing back past them in various states of emotion. Some seemed annoyed or angry, others disappointed, and some simply resigned. It seemed like a lot had gotten out on one last break spree before the long-term lock-in, but just as many hadn't been quick enough. As they passed the multitude of girls going the other way, the two might notice that many of them had taken small measures of making themselves more individual — the occasional hair clip or small accessory was the most common thing. None seemed to have made any drastic changes to their appearance, though, and small touches of rebellious individuality seemed to be the limit of it. It might have been a little creepy if they'd all be identical, but as it was their faces and bodies had just enough variation between them that it wasn't off-putting. More like being in a lobby full of a hundred sisters.
They'd both be aware that the main exit was the only way that either of them could jack-pout easily, while they were in this particular secure location, but from all signs that wouldn't be a problem, since they were visitors and not employees. Before either oft hem could actually leave, however, the secretary at the desk cleared her throat audibly.
It was the same demon lady that they'd first met when they arrived, though she now looked notably more harried and frazzled, presumably after dealing with the mess that had taken place over the past few minutes — indeed, she was still moving between a few remaining mailers answering quick questions and doing her best to send them back to their positions, but upon seeing Sleuth and Hyde she broke away from this and called out for their attention.
"You two, if you please! A moment before you go." She paused to straighten her appearance and smooth her features, trying to present a more professionally kept demeanour to visitors than she was dealing with the internal staff.
"I just received a message to pass to both of you before you left. No need for confirmation, I can read your visitor idents." Her tail was still whipping back and forth behind her sorting messages on the wall behind the counter, but she reached back and pulled out a pair of slim cylinders and held them out across the desk to each of them.
"You're the two who came to see MD832... and I can only assume you spoke to SM86 as well, as he sent these to each of you with the message to say he wishes you the best of luck in discovering other employment opportunities." Each cylinder was about two inches smaller than a standard mail package in every dimension, and the secretary seemed to consider her job done a soon as she'd passed the tubes off to each of the two investigators. The packages themselves were slightly warm, and once either sleuth or Hyde opened them in whatever way they saw fit, they'd find that they each contained a small extra stipend of zenny for each of them. Outside of that, however, it didn't seem like there was a lot that the two could do here and now, beyond keeping the problem in mind for the future. The exit gate at the far side of the foyer would take them wherever they wished to go, or allow a safe jack-out when they stood in the circle, if that was their preference.
((Sleuth and Hyde each receive an additional 4000z))
Out in the hall again, as Sleuth and Hyde chatted to each other about the situation and gradually ambled back towards the entrance foyer, the clamouring of voices had largely subdued. The steps were easy enough to trace back, and the sign-age helped if that wasn't enough, but by the time they reached the lobby they'd arrived in, a small stream of mailer daemons, most of whom looked like very similar variations on Maidy were filing back past them in various states of emotion. Some seemed annoyed or angry, others disappointed, and some simply resigned. It seemed like a lot had gotten out on one last break spree before the long-term lock-in, but just as many hadn't been quick enough. As they passed the multitude of girls going the other way, the two might notice that many of them had taken small measures of making themselves more individual — the occasional hair clip or small accessory was the most common thing. None seemed to have made any drastic changes to their appearance, though, and small touches of rebellious individuality seemed to be the limit of it. It might have been a little creepy if they'd all be identical, but as it was their faces and bodies had just enough variation between them that it wasn't off-putting. More like being in a lobby full of a hundred sisters.
They'd both be aware that the main exit was the only way that either of them could jack-pout easily, while they were in this particular secure location, but from all signs that wouldn't be a problem, since they were visitors and not employees. Before either oft hem could actually leave, however, the secretary at the desk cleared her throat audibly.
It was the same demon lady that they'd first met when they arrived, though she now looked notably more harried and frazzled, presumably after dealing with the mess that had taken place over the past few minutes — indeed, she was still moving between a few remaining mailers answering quick questions and doing her best to send them back to their positions, but upon seeing Sleuth and Hyde she broke away from this and called out for their attention.
"You two, if you please! A moment before you go." She paused to straighten her appearance and smooth her features, trying to present a more professionally kept demeanour to visitors than she was dealing with the internal staff.
"I just received a message to pass to both of you before you left. No need for confirmation, I can read your visitor idents." Her tail was still whipping back and forth behind her sorting messages on the wall behind the counter, but she reached back and pulled out a pair of slim cylinders and held them out across the desk to each of them.
"You're the two who came to see MD832... and I can only assume you spoke to SM86 as well, as he sent these to each of you with the message to say he wishes you the best of luck in discovering other employment opportunities." Each cylinder was about two inches smaller than a standard mail package in every dimension, and the secretary seemed to consider her job done a soon as she'd passed the tubes off to each of the two investigators. The packages themselves were slightly warm, and once either sleuth or Hyde opened them in whatever way they saw fit, they'd find that they each contained a small extra stipend of zenny for each of them. Outside of that, however, it didn't seem like there was a lot that the two could do here and now, beyond keeping the problem in mind for the future. The exit gate at the far side of the foyer would take them wherever they wished to go, or allow a safe jack-out when they stood in the circle, if that was their preference.
((Sleuth and Hyde each receive an additional 4000
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"Remarkable! Someone really designed such a bizarre mailing system and that's the way it's handled all over Netopia. The things you learn!" Sleuth marvelled, throwing up her hands in resigned amazement. That was as good a time as any to exit, so she left out with Hyde. On the outside, she heard Hyde's rebuttal that situations to hobknob with such powerful people were few and far between. "Ho ho, my good doctor! This is where it helps to be bold, even if some might say 'to a fault.' It's all about making your own opportunities. These fellows don't to roll around in the dirt with a flat-foot like myself, so it's my job to drag them down with me," she countered, summing back her lens-headed cane and twirling it around her wrist in a motion vaguely reminiscent of a hula hooper's. "Oh, dash it all, Miss Hyde! Don't talk about other unresolved issues if you don't want to spend more time investigating them with me! But alas, I would say we've probably just about stretched these passes to the limits of their credibility already."
As the two headed back towards the entrance, Sleuth noted the throng of returning mailer daemons, probably a mix of navis coming back to discover the bad news and those who'd purposely gone out to make the most of their last break for the foreseeable future. "A vacation's never as long as you'd like, eh?" Sleuth ribbed at Hyde, tapping her cane against the floor as she walked. "I jest. Life's just one big vacation for me. If you love your work, you'll never work a day in your life! Now, if your work is something like this, I imagine there's only so much you can take before that love grows cold. Ah, it's a shame the circumstances aren't different. There's many who'd like to end up in hell if all the devils looked like these ones, wouldn't you wager?" she winked at her partner... then tried to remember if she'd ever really managed to peg Hyde's sexuality. The other one certainly seemed to swing for either team, but it was hard to say when it came to the serious persona. At any rate, Sleuth's small talk was probably just coming off as insensitive, but such was her curse.
To Sleuth's surprise, the front-desk lady actually seemed to want to speak to them, rather than shoo them along, so she entertained the summons and made her way over. "Have you done something different with your hair since last we met?" Sleuth asked, giving the unfortunate desk clerk an annoying smile as the woman attempted to straighten out her look. "Oh ho! Now this is the kind of party favor I like!" she further joked, holding up the package between both hands and winking, like a more erotic version of a kid excited just to receive a gift, before she'd even opened it. Upon opening it, she found it contained a much nicer gift than what her joke would have entailed. "Very good, you can send him our thanks. Or just tell him next time you see him! I'm sure you deliver enough messages already as is."
"Well, the time has come, Miss Hyde. It's always such a shame to part, but since I have given my word that I will not rest until your own unique case is solved, I assure you, our paths will cross again. For now, it seems that I must help Miss Jacky deal with the force of chaos that is my operator," She rest the cane's base upon the floor, folded one arm, and gave a short bow, tipping her deerstalker's cap before disappearing off the net in a beam that was, of course, quite brown.
((Jacking out))
As the two headed back towards the entrance, Sleuth noted the throng of returning mailer daemons, probably a mix of navis coming back to discover the bad news and those who'd purposely gone out to make the most of their last break for the foreseeable future. "A vacation's never as long as you'd like, eh?" Sleuth ribbed at Hyde, tapping her cane against the floor as she walked. "I jest. Life's just one big vacation for me. If you love your work, you'll never work a day in your life! Now, if your work is something like this, I imagine there's only so much you can take before that love grows cold. Ah, it's a shame the circumstances aren't different. There's many who'd like to end up in hell if all the devils looked like these ones, wouldn't you wager?" she winked at her partner... then tried to remember if she'd ever really managed to peg Hyde's sexuality. The other one certainly seemed to swing for either team, but it was hard to say when it came to the serious persona. At any rate, Sleuth's small talk was probably just coming off as insensitive, but such was her curse.
To Sleuth's surprise, the front-desk lady actually seemed to want to speak to them, rather than shoo them along, so she entertained the summons and made her way over. "Have you done something different with your hair since last we met?" Sleuth asked, giving the unfortunate desk clerk an annoying smile as the woman attempted to straighten out her look. "Oh ho! Now this is the kind of party favor I like!" she further joked, holding up the package between both hands and winking, like a more erotic version of a kid excited just to receive a gift, before she'd even opened it. Upon opening it, she found it contained a much nicer gift than what her joke would have entailed. "Very good, you can send him our thanks. Or just tell him next time you see him! I'm sure you deliver enough messages already as is."
"Well, the time has come, Miss Hyde. It's always such a shame to part, but since I have given my word that I will not rest until your own unique case is solved, I assure you, our paths will cross again. For now, it seems that I must help Miss Jacky deal with the force of chaos that is my operator," She rest the cane's base upon the floor, folded one arm, and gave a short bow, tipping her deerstalker's cap before disappearing off the net in a beam that was, of course, quite brown.
((Jacking out))
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Hyde accepted Sleuth's friendly chiding without too much aggravation this time, as it seemed the detective was at least on the same page regarding their need to leave. Besides that, Hyde's mind was still wandering on the issue of a Navi's self-determination. Seeing the huge throng of similar-looking mailer demons had brought her mind back to that place, and she mostly absent as Sleuth rambled on. "Never work a day in your life..." she muttered, bringing herself back into the present as her partner engaged in some banter the doctor didn't find appropriate in such close proximity to the subjects of the conversation. She gave it a quick roll of the eyes to show her disapproval.
The doctor jumped a bit as she realized they were being called for, hoping the secretary didn't think that eye roll was for her. That feeling of jumpiness persisted as she made her way to the counter: she felt certain for some odd reason that they were about to be blamed for the backup. She frowned a bit as she received the package, trying to remember how the things were even opened. As soon as she'd seen Sleuth get hers open, though, she realized they already seemed warm enough to access. "Oh my! That's very generous. Thank you very much," she said, offering a small bow of her head. She supposed she also should have told the lady to thank the actual giver of the stipend, but she felt like those two were probably busy enough as it was. Leaving them alone might be a better way of showing thanks. "Best of luck with all this..."
Hyde gave Sleuth a small bow in return and a smile to convey her gratitude in Sleuth's help... although she still wasn't certain how much help Sleuth would be in her case, it was nice that the thought was on her mind. "And I'm certain Jacky needs all the help she can get..." After the detective had taken her leave, Hyde spared one more glance back to the busy lobby and its irate occupants. She supposed she ought to be thinking of their plight, but she found her thoughts selfishly directed inward. With her same stoic frown, the doctor left to her PET to contemplate, wrapping herself in her cape and pulling inward so that the circling of the garment vanished her body beneath and extracted her from the Net.
((Jacking Out))
The doctor jumped a bit as she realized they were being called for, hoping the secretary didn't think that eye roll was for her. That feeling of jumpiness persisted as she made her way to the counter: she felt certain for some odd reason that they were about to be blamed for the backup. She frowned a bit as she received the package, trying to remember how the things were even opened. As soon as she'd seen Sleuth get hers open, though, she realized they already seemed warm enough to access. "Oh my! That's very generous. Thank you very much," she said, offering a small bow of her head. She supposed she also should have told the lady to thank the actual giver of the stipend, but she felt like those two were probably busy enough as it was. Leaving them alone might be a better way of showing thanks. "Best of luck with all this..."
Hyde gave Sleuth a small bow in return and a smile to convey her gratitude in Sleuth's help... although she still wasn't certain how much help Sleuth would be in her case, it was nice that the thought was on her mind. "And I'm certain Jacky needs all the help she can get..." After the detective had taken her leave, Hyde spared one more glance back to the busy lobby and its irate occupants. She supposed she ought to be thinking of their plight, but she found her thoughts selfishly directed inward. With her same stoic frown, the doctor left to her PET to contemplate, wrapping herself in her cape and pulling inward so that the circling of the garment vanished her body beneath and extracted her from the Net.
((Jacking Out))