Standard Procedure

The lab was never quiet, but it was rarely loud either. Sounds softened before they traveled far, footsteps dull against the floor, voices blurred by distance and glass. Light filtered down in steady bands from the ceiling, caught in etched lines that traced the walls like veins.

People moved through the space in practiced rhythms. A woman adjusted a display without looking at it. Someone else leaned against a counter, reading data while pretending not to listen to the conversation beside them. A man in a half-buttoned coat stirred a mug that had long gone cold.

No one looked lost.
No one looked particularly engaged either.

Work happened here the way breathing happened: constant, unnoticed, required.

There was supposed to be a meeting today, but it seemed to be running late. People began forming groups made up of their closest friends, or perhaps just coworkers they weren’t too distant with.

One group stood out in particular. They were watching a memory from just the other day, and it caught my attention. The replay was displayed exactly as the person remembered it. If they remembered incorrectly, the hologram didn’t care; it would display that discrepancy anyway, presenting it as absolute truth.

Things like this always annoyed me. No one seemed to care about verifying what they were seeing. Like the memory readers themselves, they accepted it all without question. My own existence was proof that people needed to start watching instead of just looking. Otherwise, it would mean that I didn’t even work here half the time.

This was a research lab devoted to creating better and better versions of these memory readers, so there wasn’t really a sense of assigned desks. Anyone could work anywhere, whenever they felt like it, as long as they contributed something meaningful each week. Our boss was very lax about what we did while on the clock.

Despite that, I always worked at the same station.

When it was convenient for them, people remembered this fact. As had happened many times before, however, their memories often depicted the spot as vacant.

The person hosting the memory was a mage technician who had been here to talk about rune usage over the past few days. Nothing special, just what society seemed concerned with at the moment. The memory he was showing his friends was of him setting up a prank for another technician who wasn’t here today. They couldn’t stop laughing at the other person’s reaction, replaying the memory again and again.

Part of me wanted to join in the fun. Since they were clearly fine without me, though, my presence would only serve as a bother. That didn’t stop me from enjoying the memory from over their shoulders. It really was a great reaction.

Our moment of respite continued for just a fraction longer before the peace was interrupted. The boss arrived, apologizing for being late. Everyone shifted at once, conversations dissolving mid-sentence as we gathered around.

The meeting began the way it always did, with the quiet understanding that none of this would feel important in hindsight.

The meeting itself passed in fragments. Updates layered over one another. Then timelines were adjusted. Priorities shifted, just enough to matter to someone. I nodded when expected and wrote notes when appropriate, wondering which parts of this would survive long enough to be remembered.

I glanced at the clock from time to time to mark progress. After ten minutes passed, I told myself there should be roughly five more of these periods. I could handle that.

We endured the rehearsed formalities for what felt like another half hour, only to check the clock and realize that a mere four minutes had passed.

Finally, at the end of it all, the boss clasped her hands and smiled. She thanked everyone for being here today and wished us well with our research. People cheered out of politeness, but I doubted any of it was sincere.

There wasn’t really much left to get done. As everyone dispersed back into their previous groups, I returned to my station and started on some basic maintenance, just to pass the time.