Out. That’s what Brandon Mercer wanted. He gazed longingly at the photo in the back of the vacation magazine as he sat in the glass-domed coffee shop on the fifth floor. He sighed pitifully and glanced to the TV screen. They were showing a sport, crowntop, that he didn’t understand. It was kind of a mix between king-of-the-mountain, football, and capture-the-flag. Three of the grey team were unceremoniously knocking two of the greens down to the lower level. For a while he had been keeping track of the standings if for nothing else than a chance to relate to his contemporaries. It had worked, sort of, but he had lost interest.
He had never found that thing that he was looking for among the shining towers of the corporate village or the sprawling bubble-shaped houses packed with convenience. He himself had a Spanish-style villa with a personal theater and a restaurant quality kitchen, not that he could find any decent ingredients any more. The safety of ultra-pasteurization had washed away the subtleties of his favorite flavors. He usually ordered out.
The magazine was open to the last page, where only the least-expensive, poorly designed, cramped ads would be found. Truly rustic retreats had fallen out of vogue long ago, competing with fantasy camps, ultra-sports, med-spas, and the like. In one corner was the image that intrigued him. A dilapidated cabin sat a-top a gently sloping hill bending towards a steel-grey river. Behind and above the cabin stood towering pines and small, knotted birches. What would it be like? Could he pay the caretaker to turn off the surveillance devices or even remove them? The expense, he thought, would only prolong his captivity in the Grant Corporation.
Oh no. Murray. Murray stood with his tray only twenty feet away. It was obvious to Brandon that Murray had seen him and wanted Brandon to notice that Murray clearly hadn’t seen him, and now Murray looked for a reason not to join him. Murray looked past Brandon and then saw a seat near the screen which he moved towards eagerly. Thank God. Everyone in Brandon’s department congenially avoided him now. He was roundly regarded as a harmless dullard. Everyone had attempted friendliness with Brandon but his disinterest was eventually reciprocated.
Through the dome and the rain he could almost see the tube to the valley that he would travel after work. Just as he always had.
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