Chapter 7

9.2K 41 1
                                    

Jason Shaw hunches over his desk, illuminated solely by his dull desk lamp. He tangles his fingers through his hair as budgets and figures blur before him, and the stress builds to a pounding at the base of his skull. He sighs and leans back. His tie is crumpled and undone on a pile of manila folders, tossed aside much earlier in the night, his shirt halfway undone and revealing the white undershirt beneath. He glances out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. The blinds are so slightly ajar as to see the parking lot at the base of the building. He counts few cars remaining, and assumes it's him, janitorial staff, and some of Amelia's interns trying to stay ahead.

The board members' disapproving, wrinkled faces haunt him. With only one week until their meeting, one of the biggest of his life as they examine everything he's done in his first year as CEO in his father's place, Jason doesn't dream of going home at five. Instead, here he is at nine-thirty, going over the same reports for the fifth time. If Tommy were here, he'd call him stir crazy and force him out to a bar, and Jason wouldn't mind the distraction. But, that's far too rowdy for someone with this much riding on his successes. Instead, Jason peels himself out of his desk chair and decides to take a walk.

He winds down the halls leading to other executive offices, whole wings dedicated to the necessary areas of running their company. All their lights are long since darkened and the walkways are only lit with the few bulbs required for the cleaning crew. Jason crosses the skyway, a glass walkway separating his side from more clerical work, like HR and accounting. He scans his keycard and takes their elevator to the base floor, ground level. He paces pass the empty lobby and through the cafeteria, stopping to investigate the kitchen. Large burlap bags marked "FEED" catch his interest, and quickly lose it as he realizes it's the raw, cut grass fed to his cows. Jason marches past the other well-labeled bags of nutrients and hormones used to bind their grass into chewable clumps, as well as the clear vats of pink powder the lab produced and handed off to the meal preppers. It had something to do with milk production or docility, Jason doesn't remember.

He finds the stairwell and takes himself a level below ground where McCarthy's lab, interns, and exam office function. He hears the quiet tinkling of glass and typing, and passes four interns focused on their work. Three of them don't look up or acknowledge his footsteps, and the fourth quickly pretends he doesn't recognize Shaw, too embarrassed to greet the man in charge. Jason laughs to himself under his breath and keeps on his route, rounding corners until he comes to a slow stop.

He stands before the glass walls of what was Essie's pod just a week ago. Jason spent those four weeks watching quietly from live security footage as Essie followed his voice deeper and deeper into her program. Watching her lose herself and find her new purpose, all while his words echoed in her mind, was exhilarating. He almost wanted to start over and do it all again, if he only had the time. Instead, Jason paces down the next pod, and the next, and the next. There are five pods waiting at any given moment for a new entry, and when they're taking new applicants, the turnover rate is extraordinary. Well, when working within the usual timeframe. Jason chuckles, and moves for the exit. He might as well pack up and go home, knowing he won't get anything more done this late into the night.

Or, he can take one last lap. Jason, instead, turns for the barn. He scans his keycard once again, and enters the simulated darkness. Rows of cows are tucked sweetly into the fetal position, all resting under lighting meant to resemble the night sky. In reality, the lights are dimmed to broadcast through dark blue bulbs and emulate a night under the moon and stars. Jason nearly trips on the clear tubing that pushes the girls' milk out to the bottling and assembly line. He rights himself with a hand on one creaky gate, and freezes as the cow inside snorts herself back to sleep. He begins to feel drowsy himself under the specialty bulbs, but shakes himself awake to do his final sweep.

What Love BreedsWhere stories live. Discover now