Monsters by Matt Rogers (bill gates books to read TXT) 📕

in Santa Clara, all marble and chandeliers. The reception desk along the wall looked like a spaceship, sleek and modern, all hard edges and odd angles. Four concierges sat behind it but Alexis didn’t look their way, just lifted her dormant phone to her ear and said, ‘I don’t care what the board says. I’m telling you it’ll be another three weeks. What part of that don’t you understand?’

They weren’t about to interrupt a work dispute to say hello to the woman whose side profile looked an awful lot like Mary Böhm, so Alexis made it to the elevators uninterrupted. She tucked her phone away, the ruse no longer necessary. Building staff couldn’t stop her now unless they got physical and they sure as hell weren’t going to take such drastic measures.

A man walked up beside her, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the elevators. ‘She got you in on Saturdays too? Must really be the final hour.’

Alexis weighed up trying to ignore him, then turned and got a look. He was her height, a thin Asian man with stooped shoulders, his blue dress shirt tucked into navy slacks. Open at the collar. He had a fraternal smile on his face when they made eye contact — fellow colleagues sharing complaints about a tyrant boss — but when he got a good look at her he blinked, then looked away, embarrassed. ‘Oh. Sorry. Thought you were…’

He trailed off.

She didn’t say anything.

The elevator opened and they both stepped inside the cab. He scanned his employee tag and hit the button for the eighteenth floor. She nodded a silent agreement and stepped back, away from the panel. The doors whispered closed.

‘Sorry,’ he said, stuttering a touch on the last syllable. ‘Are you…?’

She flashed her hand out and touched Mary’s tag to the scanner, which lit up green and uttered a soft electronic beep. She whisked it back out of sight, hoping it hadn’t been visible long enough for the guy to recognise Mary’s photo.

He said, ‘Oh. Are you—?’

‘Heidi doesn’t want me talking to employees.’ She hoped mention of the head honcho would keep his mouth shut.

‘Right,’ he said, facing forward. A slight stomach drop indicated they were ascending. The numbers on the panel flashed upward. 1, 2, 3, 4…

He couldn’t resist a second glance at her, from head to toe. ‘Those clothes…’

‘What?’ she snapped.

He wanted to say, They’re Mary’s. He didn’t. He shook his head as if snapping himself out of an illusion and turned his attention back to the closed doors.

They covered the final stretch of the climb in silence and when the doors whispered open she hustled out first. She was forced to get the lay of the land in real-time, on the move. Thankfully it wasn’t complicated. The whole floor was one giant elongated space leading to a terrace. The desks and partitions were clustered into four departments, separated by dozens of feet each. It didn’t take much brainpower to understand the goal of the set-up: minimising communication between groups of employees. If the marketing team couldn’t lean over and find out how well the engineering and chemistry teams were actually progressing, they’d be more inclined to believe Heidi’s claims that she had a functioning product.

Rumours would nevertheless spread, but it’d be easier to stamp out disloyalty, make sure everyone kept their mouths shut.

The grid of departments formed a narrow stretch along each side that ran all the way down to the end. On the left-hand side it branched off into a series of private offices. Scanning the floor, Alexis counted at least twenty heads bent over desks. She imagined there’d be twice or three times that number on weekdays. The quiet murmur of frantic productivity permeated the space. Only a couple of people looked up at the new arrivals, but by then she had her head down, hustling along the corridor to the private office at the end of the row.

The door was closed.

She tried the handle.

Unlocked.

She opened it and walked straight in, cutting off a pair of old white men, one of whom was mid-speech. Their backs were to her, so she couldn’t make out features, but behind the desk Heidi Waters watched her enter with flaming eyes. Alexis knew from the media she was twenty-nine, but she looked mid-twenties at the latest, and gorgeous, but her model-like features were offset by the hawkish stare.

‘What do you think you’re—?’ she started, then she stopped as she registered small differences in appearance. ‘Wait, who are you?’

The old men looked over their shoulders. Both were carbon copies of one another: close-cropped grey hair, intense eyes, mouths set hard in thin lines. Board members, most likely. Alexis only glanced briefly at them, then met Heidi’s gaze. ‘You thought I was someone else, right?’

Heidi said nothing but her eyes shifted.

General irritation turned to ice-cold realisation.

Alexis said, ‘Did you get a call yet about a couple of your staff?’

Ice-cold realisation turned to a general look of psychopathy.

Heidi addressed the men. ‘I’m going to need a minute.’

‘Heidi,’ one of them started, ‘we can’t keep delaying—’

‘No, Frank,’ she said, smouldering. ‘Vote to remove me, I don’t care. I need to run this company, and I need a minute. Go get a coffee. I won’t be long.’

The one who’d spoken seemed amicable, but the other looked back over his shoulder and affixed an equally cold stare on Alexis. ‘You can go.’

Heidi said, ‘John. I said out.’

John whipped back to face forward. ‘I’m not gonna be pushed around by some pompous wonder-kid—’

Frank laid a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Not here. Coffee.’

John shrugged it off. ‘Get the fuck off me—’

‘John. Coffee.’

John bristled a beat, then stood up and did a button on his jacket, connecting the break point. He turned and walked out, brushing Alexis’ shoulder on the way out. He paused to stare at her. ‘Who the fuck are you anyway?’

Heidi said, ‘Out.’

He walked away, and Frank followed wordlessly. Alexis shut the door behind them.

Heidi let quiet envelop the insulated office. ‘So what is this?’

Alexis lowered herself