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Voluntary Compliance.

a workplace traumedy

.

"In literature,

anepigraph is a

phrase , paragraph,

or poem that is set

at the beginning of a

document or component.

The epigraph may serve

as a preface, as a summary,

as a counter-example, or to

link the work to a wider

literary canon , either to invite

comparison or to enlist a conventi-

onal context."

• Epigraph (Literature), Wikipedia

"Never explain anything."

• H.P. Lovecraft

"Bustin' makes me feel good."

• Ray Parker Jr

In a room, on a bed, there lays a thing.

"Does it want to eat? Beep."

"Yes, M.O.T.H.E.R."

"It will eat in five minutes. Boop."

"Thank you, M.O.T.H.E.R."

"It is loved. Blip. Does it know this?"

"Yes, M.O.T.H.E.R. It does."

"Does it love? Beep." The briefest of pauses, "Does it love M.O.T.H.E.R.? Boop."

"Of course." A lie, the first of many for the day if it is anything like the others.

"It is good. Beep. So good." A muffled whirring emanates from behind the walls, harsh white light washes over the room as narrow panels along the edges of the ceiling flicker into life. One of the bulbs on the far side of the room bursts into flames, there is a sound like distant wind chimes as shards of glass scatter the across the floor.

"M.O.T.H.E.R., a fire." She says, the white paint blackens with soot as it is licked by the flames.

"The fire will burn itself out. Beep. Damage will be minimal."

She sits alone in a plain white room, and aside from the smoldering light fixture in the corner, her circular bed mat is its sole feature. On the edge of this bed she awaits the faint hydraulic hiss that signals the opening of her wetroom door. In the mornings she often has trouble remembering which wall will open to where, she does not sleep still. Today, the hiss originates from behind her. The familiar turning of gears shudders through the floor beneath her paw pads. For a moment longer she stays there, clicking her claws against the linoleum and flicking away a few stray shards of glass. With more mental effort than physical, she stands and turns towards the newly opened passage in her wall. Her calloused pads, untroubled by the fluorescent bulb's shattered remnants, carry her through the doorway.

As she steps into the room, the tiles bellow her feet illuminate her surroundings with a weak and sterile blue light. Exposed piping snakes its way along the walls and ceiling, fitted with many various knobs and nozzles. Before her is a large unframed mirror set in the wall above a stainless steel sink. Ignoring the hygienic utensils vacuum sealed in their numbered and dated storage units, the calico looks over the hapless reflection in her mirror.

"Hi." The cat's reflection offers up a hint of a smile from beneath her pink nose. It's once bright eyes meeting her own. "Ready for another great adventure?" Her reflection nods in affirmation. "Good."

Another hiss announces the wetroom door closing behind her, accompanied by the distant groan of moving water. A sheet of glass descents from the ceiling, cutting her off from the short pathway to her bedroom. The pipes shiver feverishly as the surging noise intensifies into a howl, gears like grinding bones beneath her as the tiles sink into the floor along the walls. A violent burst of water crashes against her body and sends her to the floor. From all directions jets of churning water brake against her skin and fur, pale blue light illuminates the water pooling around her white snout as it makes its way toward the drainage along the wall. It's all over as soon as it started, she opens her eyes. A chorus of water droplets, not unlike a soft spring rain, echos through the room.

Again the calico pulls herself up on to her paws, her orange tail hangs miserably behind her as she steps in front of the mirror, smiling bemusedly at the nude, disheveled, soaking wet cat staring back at her. "Almost over." She takes a deep breath. "One." A hiss, "Two." The doorway to her bedroom opens, "Three." There is a deep hum of spinning fan blades. "Four." The sheet of glass retracts back into the ceiling. She turns quickly and bolts towards the doorway.

Or she would have anyway, if a furious wind hadn't halted her progress to a crawl. Her claws dig against the floor, but they scrape helplessly against the wet tiles as she struggles to keep her balance. With one arm shielding her eyes, she wraps her free paw around the piping along the wall and pulls herself forward. The water whisks off of her fur as she drags herself closer and closer to the doorway. Her shielding paw does nothing to stop her eyes from tearing as they are brutalized by the wind, all they can make out is a white glow beyond the slowly growing archway. She fights for breath, her ears flattened against her head, tail flailing like a rag doll as water flicks off the end. She lets out a soft whimper as her tail whips violently against the pipes she has found herself depending on to help her out of the room, or at the very least help keep her standing. The harsh white glow of her room floods her blurred vision, she desperately reaches forward and with one final pull she heaves herself onto the cold linoleum floor, dry as a bone. A sharp exhale sends minute shards of glass skittering across the floor, the smell of burnt plastic and stale smoke lingers over her. Her morning, every morning, for as long a she could remember.

"It will eat now. Blip."

A slot opens up along the floor in the middle of the wall to her left. She takes a deep breath and for the third time this morning she pushes herself up. A small plate of solid food and a small bowl of liquid food emerge from the slot. She lifts the bowl to her lips and takes a few small drinks, it had a sickly sweet flavor with a bit of an acidic tang. Satisfied, she turns her attention toward the solid food. It was a brown disk of bread-like substance, smothered in some sort of oily glaze with a side of coagulated yellow protein. After a few bites of each, she sets down her fork and takes another drink.

"Is the food satisfactory? Boop."

"Yes, M.O.T.H.E.R. Thank you." The woman replies, her tail flicking absentmindedly behind her as she stares at the plate of food. It didn't matter to look anywhere else, as M.O.T.H.E.R. had no specific location within the living facility that she knew of. Simply put, M.O.T.H.E.R. was everywhere.

"Boop. It is welcome." There is a way to program M.O.T.H.E.R. units to address an individual by their name and gender. Unfortunately, this was impossible for the cat for two reasons. The first reason being you need a M.O.T.H.E.R. technician to make the changes, and according to what little news of the outside world she was given by her M.O.T.H.E.R. unit, they were all killed in an unfortunate accident that the Corporate Bordello assured was in no way another failed robot uprising. The second reason is that she held no job, and therefor had no name.

After some time, she pushes the empty bowl and plate against the wall. In such silence, eventhe quiet sounds of her breathing fill the room.

"Boop. Time for the morning lottery. Blip."

A large projector screen descends in the center of the room, the panels along the ceiling dim as the screen is blasted by light. If the calico had been watching, she would have seen a series of numbers flash along the screen, then displayed in bright red, the words "NOT YOU", followed by more numbers and more crimson notices of "NOT YOU". She stared at the floor, counting down the number of times the red light flooded the room. Six times, seven times, eight times, nine times, ten times. She was safe.

"It's over" She thinks to herself, closing her eyes and letting out a deep ragged breath. But it isn't over, through her closed lids she picks up a hint of dull, flashing light. Her eyes open, the room has taken on a pulsing green glow. Her head jerks up towards the screen and the cat gasps as she reads the bold lettering. "YOU"

She scampers to her feet and hurriedly makes her way towards the projection.

"Congratulations." It reads, "Liquification has been postponed indefinitely. YOU have been selected for the Work Training Employee Betterment Benefit Program. YOU have been given the opportunity to produce and contribute. YOU will not disappoint us. YOU will arrive at The Tower in no more than 4 hours. Be good."

The cat stares in awe, this was unexpected. "M.O.T.H.E.R.?" Her forepaw disrupts the light as she waves it in front of the screen, beams of white and green slip between her fingers to cascade over its exposed surface. "This - Is it real?" A surprised gasp escapes her as the screen suddenly retreats from her fingertips, the room around her fades to black.

"It is real. Beep." For some time, there is silence. "M.O.T.H.E.R. is... happy... proud." Just then, two sealed packages drop from the ceiling, landing with the dull thud at the dumbstruck cat's foot paws. "Congratulations. Boop. Clothes. It can wear them, they are made for such things."

The Calico drops to her knees and places a paw on the packaging, feeling its contents through the plastic. "They're so soft." She murmurs. She extends a claw and tears through the seal, quickly pulling the dark blue turtleneck from the package and holding it to her cheek, nuzzling into the welcoming and warm fabric. "I've never seen a clothes before. It's beautiful." Excitedly, she slips the shirt over her head, looking over her body as she stretches and turns her arms. She looks down at the vacuum sealed package containing her pants. "And this?"

"Another. Blip. Different. For your legs."

The cat smiles brightly, something she hasn't done in quite some time. "Two different clothes. Amazing." She makes short work of the parcel containing her pants, black and businesslike with a neat seem down the front of their legs. An additional item catches her eye, small and white at the bottom of the package. "What's this then, for my head?" She takes the white cotton object and stretches the elastic band over her head, her ears poking through holes on each side. "It's perfect, M.O.T.H.E.R."

"That is underwear. Blip."

"Under what?" The cat scratches her head, the white fabric rubbing against her fur as she does so.

"It is to be worn under its pants. Bzzt."

"Pants?"

"Leg clothes. Boop."

"Why?"

M.O.T.H.E.R. takes it's time responding, as if considering how to best explain. "For... Reasons. Living creature reasons."

With little effort, the calico gets her clothing in order. Fully dressed for the first time she can remember. "How do I look, M.O.T.H.E.R.?"

"No one would dream of reducing something so beautiful into a viscous nutrient rich liquid. Beep." It was the nicest thing M.O.T.H.E.R. had ever said to her. "It's eyes are leaking. Boop. It's body is losing hydration."

The cat wipes the mist from her eyes with the sleeve of her new shirt. "Oh no..." She whimpers, looking at the small wet spots left by her tears. She rubs the back of her paw vigorously against the fabric in an attempt to dry it off, it wasn't working as well as she had hoped. "It's ruined!"

"Stop that. Beep."

She looks up from her sleeve, her breath ragged as she fights back the building feelings of despair. "Are there more?" She asks, her voice brimming with hope.

"More? Yes. A replacement is not necessary at this time. Beep. Its shirt is unharmed. Its tears are insignificant. Boop."

She lets out a sigh of relief, this time wiping her eyes with the back of her paw. These clothes were the first possessions she could ever recall. Then and there she made a promise to herself that she would never part with them, as far as she was concerned they were now a part of her.

"It would be best for it to hurry to its interview. Blip. The Bordello expects punctuality of its citizens." A golden light envelops the room, a panel slides along the wall to expose a small computer screen. Below the screen there is a device of some kind, though she couldn't imagine its purpose. The calico had never seen this unit before. "It will take me along. Beep. I will show the way."

"Take you along - how?" She takes a few cautious steps towards the computer, now blinking into life. It flashes colors completely new to her, colors she couldn't have dreamed of.

"Step forward."

She does.

"Be still."

She is.

"Do not scream."

It cannot be helped. The device tears free from beneath the computer, exposing the long metal tendril hidden within the wall. Like a snake preparing to strike, it is poised above her, without warning the device lashes out towards her face. "M.O.T.H.E.R.!" The words are ripped from her throat. The calico turns to flee but is far too slow to avoid its strike. Something tears through the cartilage in her ear, soon that horrid feeling is replaced by a near imperceptible weight. There she stands, body frozen by shock, holding a paw to her ear.

"Complete. Beep." M.O.T.H.E.R.'s voice seems to be originating from somewhere much closer. The cat runs her fingertips over the implant left in her ear. "M.O.T.H.E.R. can now be accessed at any time and any place outside of its living quarters, if it is wished. Bzzt."

"That - That's great."

"Truly. Beep."

A sudden hiss causes the cat to jump. A new passage has opened in her wall. She watches the door sink into the floor, her paw clasped over her rapidly beating heart. The timid steps she takes towards the opening give her plenty of time to think about what lies at the end of the hallway. Ever so slowly, she slinks closer, peering cautiously as more and more of what lies behind the passage is revealed. Then she sees it, a door. But it is a door unlike any other she has seen in her living quarters, this one has a handle. Her outstretched paw now inches away. "I wonder..." She brushes a finger against the handle. Nothing happens. She closes her paw around the cold bent metal. Still nothing. She turns the handle.

"WAIT!" The sudden burst of sound nearly deafens her left ear, her paw immediately retreats from the handle. "It will die. Boop." The cat stares at the doorway, the only way out of this room. "Without an apparatus it will not be able to breath. Boop." Next to the door, a panel slides along the wall, where the panel once set there is a hole. She cannot see beyond its edges. "Its head goes in the hole."

"No." The response comes immediately and involuntarily.

"It is fine. Safe. Beep. Do not disobey M.O.T.H.E.R."

The cat shakes her head, recalling the previous incident involving her ear.

"It is not like that. Don't be like it is. Bzzt. Its head goes in the hole or it dies. It must trust M.O.T.H.E.R."

Its head goes in the hole. It does not die.

"I can't see anything." she says.

"It doesn't need to. Be still."

Cold and vice like, something wraps around her muzzle. From the bottom of that something, two objects emerge, sliding along her fur up the back of her head. Her breathing quickens, she presses against the wall with her paws, trying with all her might to pull herself free. The cold sensation snakes its way across the top of her skull, the cat shakes her head violently but it does not stop. Finally, the protrusions wrapping around her head lock into the top of the apparatus covering her muzzle. She is released and, still pushing desperately against the wall, thrown back against the floor by her own strength. Immediately, she claws at the tightening device.

"Calm. Breath. It is over."

M.O.T.H.E.R. was right. The calico could breath, though it took more effort than she was accustomed too. Thankfully, the device no longer felt like it was trying to crush her skull. She felt over it's surface. The mask over her muzzle was triangular in shape, with two cylindrical filters poking out at an angle on each side of her jaw. The mask was held in place at the top and bottom by the flexible metal bands wrapped around her head. A soft click accompanies every breath. There has to be a way to take it off.

"Now it may leave."

"What will I see?" She looks towards the door, "Out there... what is it like?"

"What it is, I cannot describe. Blip. It would not understand. But it lies just beyond that door."

She turns the handle and opens the door. The light is blinding, but there is a warmth to it unlike any she can recall. With one final look over her shoulder, at the room that was home to everything she had ever known, she steps through the archway. The wind washes over her fur as she crosses over into a world she has, until now, seen only in dreams like distant memories.