Chapter 3: Treachery

[Treachery] (noun): When one's urges surpass the desire for cooperation and civility. 

Strictly speaking, Prin was generally against invasion of privacy, but hope was just starting to blossom inside his chest. Maybe Cali would become a real friend to him, and accept him, if he just did her this one simple favor. He continued to mull it over in silence at his desk, printing out tables of transactions to be handed to accounting.

“You’re almost late!” Cali pointed at Prin as he pushed the door open. Unlike logistics, the accounting floor was packed like sardines. Every cubicle was occupied, every wall plastered with papers and posters. Laptops and Headsets were shouting into phones between heads and shoulders, as if they were old school stock brokers. The town hall was hosting an international party tomorrow. Surely it wasn’t always like this.

Prin took big arching steps over several molehills of papers to reach Cali’s desk. “Almost late is on time isn’t it?” Maybe Tora was a bad influence on her.

“Well I calculated how long it would take for you to get here and you are milliseconds away from zero.” She paused and looked down at her stomach. “Wait, I’m off by a factor of 10, never mind.” She waved airily and took the documents from Prin. Her cubicle housed an assortment of different color sandwiches of post-it notes, invoice copies, and folders. Worryingly, there were several pairs of earplugs in a plastic bin next to her. She leaned in. “So um, what do you say about my request?”

Cali looked up at him with big gleaming eyes. Prin found it hard to say no to her for a very different reason compared to Tora. He fidgeted for a bit before leaning in too. “Alright, fine. I’ll help this one time. But you can’t keep or photograph this list, and I will check if it’s not too incriminating first.” She was already bouncing up and down in her chair before he even finished his terms. “Oh yay! Yes yes yes! Thank you Prin, I’ll see you at 4 tomorrow okay?”

Prin sighed as he left the chatterbox, and mentally rescheduled his dentist appointment.

The girl’s name was Meryl, she was a Camera. Her lens and machinery replaced the upper half of her head, like an urban cyclops. She sat at a small table outside the Inkblure coffee shop; it was a quiet and overpriced lot just across town square. With her plaid jacket and smart casual pants, she definitely looked like a frequenter.

Elevator music echoed in the distance from town square as Prin and Cali hunched over behind a row of artificial plants. They watched Meryl shoo a fly away from her lens. Cali was breathing heavily and mentally preparing herself, and Prin was actively regretting his life choices.

“Okay, so there she is. I met her at a collaboration we had with her photography company. She’s funny, she’s smart, she’s pretty, and she’s great. Cali nodded like a bobblehead. “Okay now go do your thing.”

Prin looked back and forth between the open chair by Meryl’s table and Cali’s face-splitting grin. “Wh-? And do what? How am I supposed to sit there and chat with her long enough to get the list?”

“I told her someone from our company wanted to give an anonymous interview about the dangers of working in delivery.”

“I work in logistics, I print documents.”

“Surely you get papercuts every now and then. Also, isn’t sitting bad for you?” Cali shrugged.

“Well it’s not often, I have a pack of bandaids just in case.” Prin retorted. “I also stand up regularly to take breaks and do stre-”

“Just go! You’ll do great. Remember if you need to stall for time answer her question with a question. Got it?”

“What?”

“Great, just like that!”

She shoved Prin out of cover and onto the sidewalk. No one paid him any mind as he stumbled, they were giving out free balloons at the party across the square. Meryl looked up and waved him down like a waiter. “Hi, are you from Cogwheels?” She stood up with an outstretched hand. “I’m Meryl from Eightframes, nice to meet you. Cali told me you were coming.”

Prin hurried forward to shake her hand. “H-hi there, yes I’m Cogwheels. I mean I’m there. I mean I’m from there. Mr from Cogwheels yes.” He nodded. Meryl nodded back slowly. “O-kay then. Well, Mr Cogwheels, have a seat.”

The sweat was building up in his armpits as he sat down. Cali gave him a thumbs up from the bush behind Meryl. He sighed and did breathing exercises whilst Meryl procured a pen and pad.

30 minutes should be enough. He thought to himself. But it’s going to be hard for her to talk about herself if she’s the interviewer. Just chatting about the weather wouldn’t be enough, after all his ability was essentially an analysis.

“So, what do you work as?” Meryl clicked her pen.

“I work in logistics, I handle documents.”

“How long have you been there?”

“Six months.” He felt a strange sense of embarrassment and opted not to tell her the real number. Cali raised an eyebrow.

“I see. And what work do you do?” She began scrawling unintelligible notes down.

“I print and transport documents.”

Meryl stopped writing and looked up. “Sir, isn’t this an interview about dangers in your workplace? Do you face risks regularly, or are you here to report on a different department?”

Prin gulped. “Paper’s a hard job ma’am. It’s uh, easy to cut yourself and uh, I’ve… seen a colleague get buried under a mountain of paper once.” His anecdote was based on the time he accidentally smothered Rhea’s bobblehead frog under a box of papers because he wasn’t looking.

The elevator music filled the air between them. It sounded like a xylophone. The waiter came over to take his order. He got a cappuccino, Meryl got milk tea, then the misery ensued.

“I suppose those are… risks.” Meryl was writing slower, definitely a bad sign. “Is there anything else you wish to talk about?”

Cali rolled her hand in panic, gesturing for Prin to go on. They were barely 5 minutes in.

Prin shifted in his seat. “Do… what do you work as?” He stuttered. Meryl’s camera lens focused itself on Prin. “I work as both a camerawoman and a journalist.”

“How long have you worked at your company?”

“Two years.”

“I… see.” He nodded as slowly as possible. “And what work do you do?”

She stashed her pen away, stood up, and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I think I should be heading off now, thank you Mr Cogwheels.” Cali sucked air between clenched teeth as she pleaded with her eyes.

“W-wait! Wait!” Prin shot to his feet. Meryl frowned at him. “What?” His sweaty reflection was visible in her lens.

Prin thought as fast as the gears in his head would turn. “Actually I just wanted to speak with you.”

Meryl turned her body halfway. “Oh? And why is that?”

He bit his lip. “I wanted to meet you because I like you.”

Cali was positively horrified.