The Meeting (PB)
#3 of Peter and Benji
Peter goes to work and gossips with his coworkers.
I only work about twenty minutes from the apartment. It's not a long commute until you factor in the downtown traffic. Morgan City was built to accommodate all of the workers Vectra was going to bring to the city. Subways to rival the New York system and enough busses for all of the employees. But it doesn't really change the fact that the city is not a small town. Big cities bring big traffic and big traffic sucks. But driving to work does have its advantages, I have more freedom than riding the subway, like Benji, would. But it is a little more convenient for him. The hospital has its own subway stop and there's another only a block from our building.
I parked my car into my usual spot in the underground parking garage. Next to a pillar and only a short walk from the elevator. I waved at some of the night shift furs walking by, after long dark hours in the offices. I pulled my computer bag out of the back seat, closed the door and locked the car. I began walking toward the big silver doors with the company logo on them. A big stylized "V" that wraps around into a circle surrounding the emblem. The gentle hum of the ventilation equipment buzzed throughout the chasmal surroundings.
I waved my ID card in front of the scanner next to the elevator. It only took a few moments for the car to arrive and a few other furs shuffling their way past me. I pressed the button for my destination floor and waved my ID once more for the ridiculously complex security system that requires me to flash my card every time I enter a secure area.
I work in the aerospace section of the building. Mostly I mange logistics and company assets, but sometimes I'm called to work with the development teams on certain projects. They called me in for some kind of meeting today. I'm not sure what it's about or why they need me. All they told me, was when and where to show up and to bring some documents from the last few space station projects. I would assume they want a second opinion on them or want to commission another.
The stainless steel doors of the elevator opened into a large rotunda with white and black marble floors and almost beige pillars. There were several exotic looking plants scattered about in big pots or little garden beds. There were ferns, small trees, flowering plants, and climbing vines that gave off a scent similar to that of an indoor jungle. The rotunda wasn't over run with plants though, mostly they were kept clear of lights, Windows and glass walls by the tireless work of the maintenance personnel.
My ears flicked at the sound of water gently streaming down an artificial waterfall and into a small Koi pond that was tucked away next to the elevator and behind a small bench and retaining wall. The bright light filtering through the large oval shaped skylight above my head made me wince for a moment for my eyes to adjust. Ahead of me was a large concave glass wall with the company's aerospace logo on it. The aerospace logo is similar to the one on the elevator doors in the parking lot, but this one has three, four pointed stars added. One on both sides of the chevron, and one inside. The circle surrounding the letter was also more stylized, ending in a wispy point right above the top star's point. The same logo was also displayed, on the floor, in grey marble in the center of the room
On the other side of the glass wall was the primary conference room and the director's office. From here there were two small sets of stairs that wrapped around either side of the big glass panel to the rooms behind it. There were also two hallways across from each other, on my left and right, which led to the general offices and labs.
The rotunda seems busier than usual this morning. The sounds of shuffling foot paws and scientists yapping on about some new ingenious experiment filled the entire area. I pushed past a few and exchanged morning greetings with a few colleagues, as I walked to the stairs leading to the conference room.
The room was well lit by the stylish metal and plastic light fixtures, strategically placed around the room. There were a few other furs already sitting around the conference table. A few of them I've worked with before. Wyatt, a Liger from engineering, he's about my age, a few inches taller than me and a whole lot bulkier. Next to him was a fox, Jason from astrodynamics. He's a little shorter and thinner than I am, maybe a few years older. I only know him from the astrodynamics asset reports I've reviewed.
Across from them was Jessica Jones and Jonathan Taylor. Both are senior employees compared to the three of us. Jessica is a cougar from the PR offices, she's short and lean, maybe in her mid-thirties. John is a little older, I'd say early forties, he's the bear that heads up the finance department. He's the guy I usually have to file monthly reports to about allocations of company resources and other boring things.
There were three more furs in the room that I'm not familiar with, an older komodo dragon, a rabbit, and a horse. I took the seat next to Wyatt, on the opposite side of him that Jason was sitting, naturally. The two were laughing about something when I sat down. Probably about some of the latest gossip floating around the office, or one of Wyatt's infamously bad jokes.
My computer bag brushed up against the big liger's shoulder, as I sat down in my chair, prompting him to look at me. "Hey Peter!"
"Good morning." I cheered, plastering a smile across my face for my coworkers. I'm not really one for the social niceties and such. I don't really see why some furs find such pointless things so important. But that doesn't mean I need to be a rude jackass everyone. Just the furs I don't like, and there aren't many around here. Now high school was a different story.
"Good morning Peter." The frail fox Jason greeted. His voice was nasally but strangely smooth and flowing, it's hard to really describe it.
"Good morning Jason." I smiled again slightly as I pulled my computer out of its bag and placed it on the glass table.
"We were just discussing the bitter rivalry between lieutenant McNeil and her mate in accounting." Wyatt explained to me. Lieutenant McNeil in one of the field engineers for our satellites and space stations. Her husband works in accounting and always seems to be complaining about filing for components that have gone MIA under her watch. She always comes back at him with a lecture on the difficulties of working in zero-g. The resulting drama is a common topic of debate on who was right this time.
"Yes." I stated, "I heard about the specialized socket wrench that 'returned to the surface' without her. Assets got a rather lengthy report on the subject."
"What was she even working on?" Jason asked the resident engineer between us.
"Tycho Station was having a problem with its reactor cooling system again." The big feline stated, "Apparently another problem with the ammonia based cooling system."
"If you ask me fixing that flying piece of space junk is nothing more than a waste of money." I said, sounding a little too arrogant for my own good, "I honestly don't know how that station manages to function when something always seems to be broken or defective. Tycho doesn't even have artificial gravity like our newer stations."
"Tycho is nearly ten years old." Wyatt defended, "Without it we wouldn't have been able to build any of the newer stations. You always need a platform for trial and error in engineering."
"I'm not denying that," I said as I typed my password into my computer, "but when that platform costs five hundred billion dollars to maintain a year when it costs less than three quarters of that price to run four of the newer stations."
Vectra currently owns and runs five orbital civilian and research stations, Tycho, Zeus, Aphrodite, Athena, and Hercules. The smallest, and oldest, is Tycho, which only supports a temporary crew of twenty or thirty. The four larger ones can support as many as one hundred fifty furs, permanently due to their use of centrifugal force as artificial gravity and advances in aeroponics. Vectra is a very wealthy company that works in just about every field imaginable. Typically when something new is created o discovered, it's because of Vectra, that's why we are able to do things like this.
"Sure..." the liger growled. "Anyway, do you even know why we've been called here? Because, I've been told nothing."
"Same here." I agreed, "No one seems to know anything about what we're all doing here. I was asked to bring all of my engineering and asset reports from as far back as the Tycho project."
"Me too." Jason chimed, "Maybe they want to build another station?"
"But why all the secrecy?" I asked, knowingly. "If all they want is another station, wouldn't they just send us the work order and give the media a teaser, with a cleverly uncreative name, while the rest of the world moves on to the next big thing? I wasn't here for the other four, but that's what they did with Aphrodite Station."
"That's what would be expected." Wyatt mused.
My ears flicked at the sound of the sliding door, to the conference room, opening. "Sorry I'm late I got caught up in traffic on my way here this morning." The voice spoke fast and was very hoarse, showing off its age.
The three of us turned our attention toward the source of the voice, a rather old and diminutive looking lynx. The fur on his muzzle and head was grey and white in a clear show of his age. His muscles were small and frail, but he still moved around in a quick and independent manner. Just because this particular fur happened to appear in the door, everyone in the room immediately snapped to, sat up straight, and put on the most respectful pose they possibly could. While his looks may be deceiving, even in the face of the big muscular liger, this little old fur is the most powerful fur in the room.
He's the founder and owner of Vectra Communications, Mr. William Carter.