Chapter 4

"Thank you for calling Silica Nine Marketsquad Product Support. This is Riley. How can I help you today?" Riley regurgitated the corporate greeting recommended in the videos.

The same videos that came out regularly as new competitors were purchased and their names added to the corporate portfolio.

When Riley had started working, the company had been Silica One, but with each buyout, the name grew, and so did the numbers in the CEO's bank account. After a dozen purchases, the company chose a new, catchy name, becoming too big to fail. And the once "every-member-is-important" startup turned into a "bleed-yourself-dry" corporation where employees were pushed to the side with no raises, no benefits, and less time off.

Riley hated how the rich of the world kept getting richer. But he reminded himself that life wasn't fair, and that was how it would remain. So he kept his opinions to himself as the beratement began.

"Hi Riley, question," A familiar, upset customer started with an audible irritation, scratching at the back of their voice. "Is your piece of shit product supposed to always be broken? Or is there a certain time when it works?" The ‘always right’ big-pharma point-of-contact yelled over the phone.

Riley was used to people yelling. He acknowledged that if he were a customer, he would also be angry at the product. Over the years, he had watched more promises being made by sales teams with less follow-through made by the company. Since most customers only called when a product didn't meet their expectations, Riley quickly learned his new role.

After a few years, he realized that his position was meant to be a personal punching bag for an average of ten minutes a call. Then, once the customer was exhausted, he could send them up the line to be handled by someone else who would take all the credit.

"I'm so sorry to hear that your product isn't working," Riley replied calmly. "If you could give me your name and account number, I can assist in getting your product information sorted."

"No! I want to talk with your manager!" The voice bellowed in return.

"I completely understand, and I would be happy to help if—" Riley continued in an attempt to at least try and help the customer.

"Are you touched, son? I want to speak with your manager now, or I'm taking my business elsewhere! Or can you not get that through your fuckin' pea-size—"

"I—uh, of course. Please hold." Riley interrupted and placed the customer on hold. He released a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"Fuck me. Not first thing in the morning, please." He muttered to himself as he pulled up the company IRC and reached out to Geoff, the more likable manager. He continued to mumble as he sat up straight and typed, "Hey Geoff—with a gee—I have an irate pharma customer demanding management or contract cancellation. Could you take this over? Thanks. And send."

The typing icon appeared before Geoff replied, "Yeah, sure, bud."

Without hesitation, Riley sent the customer away to be someone else's problem with a few clicks of the keyboard and a quick fiddle with the office phone. Taking a moment, he relaxed back down into his seat with barely enough time for a breath before the phone began ringing again.

"Thank you for calling Silica Nine Marketsquad Product Support. This is Riley. How can I help you today?" Riley responded robotically and would do so for four hours straight before finally having a moment for lunch.

Clicking himself offline and removing his soulless body from the queue, Riley rested his head on the desk and yawned. His stomach churned and growled out of hunger, causing him to instinctively grab it.

Thinking about food and Broiler Queen, Riley quickly felt the urge not to waste more money. That was when he remembered not having a choice since he forgot his lunch.

His mind wandered to the night before, the burger and fries he enjoyed with Abel before games. The pleasant memory of the video games invaded his thoughts, and he remembered the fun he had with the new class.

At the exact moment, a chill ran down his spine as he thought about the nightmares that followed.

"Oh, what was it?" He muttered to himself as he shut his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to recall the words. "Fucka'wookie, why-jay'zee? Alakablam."

He chuckled to himself, amused with his own bastardization of the language. Suddenly, the words appeared in his mind as clear as words on a page.

"Fuh ach'quooie'whyjay ze'el Ak'zi'key'my." He said softly.

Thwomp!

Riley felt his heart begin to race as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking at his feet, he hesitantly raised his head from the table. There, resting beside the dated office phone, was the even older leatherbound tome.

Riley stood with a start, sending his chair wheeling back into the person behind him, who grumbled angrily. He suddenly realized he was still at work, and several people were now beginning to stare his way.

"Stretching." He mouthed silently to the others as he felt his cheeks growing warmer.

Following up the deception with some light movement exercises before he grabbed his chair and sat back down.

Sitting in the seat, he eyed the book uncertainly before eventually taking it in his hands and standing up once more. Quickly exiting his row, he raced through the labyrinth of cubicles with his head down, eyeing the tome wrapped secretively in his arms.

"Ow, hey, bro." Abel huffed as Riley collided with his chest. "What happened last night? Not like you to fall asleep early."

Riley looked up at Abel with a wild expression and no words.

"Hey, are you okay?" Abel inquired as Riley stepped back and to the side.

"Yeah, I uhh—bad stomach." Riley lied as he moved around and away from Abel. "I—uh, got the squirts!"

Rushing away, Riley escaped the "strategically open" floor and found himself in the narrow hall of the bathrooms. Sliding into the men's room, he entered one of the stalls and locked the door behind him.

There, as he sat on the toilet, he laid the book onto his lap and stared at its etched cover. Running his fingers over its surface, he plucked at the leather strap that kept it bound. Riley hesitated for a moment before releasing the knot and lifting the cover to reveal the first page.