The first day at a new job

Mark was pleased to be assigned to work in Aquatown. It was a minor enough place that he could experience the small-town life he'd heard so much about, but major enough that it contained all the essentials a person would need (such as a decent Eternity Unicorns community). He was not so pleased with the guide that had been assigned to assist with the relocation. He could only hope that was not an indicator of things to come.

Tim, or Tom, or whatever his name was, was saying, "I don't know if I mentioned it before, but my cousin attended the Royal Charismatic Academy. Not the Top Tier class like you, sir, of course, but did you perhaps meet him? His name's—"

Mark didn't bother to listen to the name or scan his recollection. Even if, by some chance, he knew the assistant's cousin well, he still would not want to deepen the relationship with this man by admitting it. "Not that I can remember, I'm afraid. It is a rather big school."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Tony, or Toby, showing at least some awareness of social embarrassment.

Perhaps because of that embarrassment, they accidentally made eye contact. Terry, or Jerry, flinched and looked away, and not for the first time. Mark maliciously contemplated letting the man know that a small thing like lack of eye contact wouldn't slow Mark down in any way if Mark decided to do something. Mark, also not for the first time, gave up those plans. He would be the better person. (And also, it would just make the situation worse. Not speaking from any prior experience or anything.)

Instead, Mark asked the thing that really had been bothering him since the liaison had showed up with that twitchy, over-helpful attitude. "I was under the impression that my attendance at RaCA would not be wildly known…?"

"Oh no!" said Timmy, or Tommy, "I mean, yes! I mean, I was told, of course, But the file your new office would only have been given the very basics about your degrees. No one here in Aquatown has any idea."

Mark felt his shoulders relax. He would be free to just be himself. The others here would never know he was different, so they would never treat him differently.

"We're here!" announced Matty or Mitty unnecessarily as he parked, before scurrying around the car to open Mark's door.

Mark let him do so without trying to interfere. Trying to draw limits would extend the process and result in even more communication. Mark just got out and looked up at his new workplace. He pursed his lips briefly in disapproval at the sight. The government, he felt, had a duty to traditional aesthetics. They should leave the glass and chrome monstrosities to the bankers and the technology companies. Something to pursue later, perhaps.

The reception area was divided by glass that had the characteristic distortion, indicating that it was proof against any form of Charisma. The receptionist, naturally, promptly made that pointless by walking outside of it to generate them temporary passes. They went through the barriers, up the extremely mirrored elevators and out on the floor marked 'Events and Public Security Team'. As they waited for someone to come and let them in, Mark stared with interest at the space clearly visible through the glass doors and walls. Desks were aligned in rows entirely to close together, with overfull coat stands bracketing the rows like watch towers. Over bright lighting flooded the area, drowning out what weak sunlight managed to intrude from the windows. The grey flecked carpet had a subtle pattern made obvious only where two of the panels had been laid in the wrong orientation.

Mark couldn't help his shoulders begin to tense up again. The moment was disturbingly similar to the first day at school. Would he fit in here? Would he enjoy himself? Would the other 'kids' like him? Mark had thought those kinds of worries were something one left behind once an adult, so he was a bit disappointed in himself to experience them again here.

The door was opened by a man who was edging his way to being overweight but wearing his increasing girth proudly. He was wearing a bright green and blue waistcoat and no jacket. Mark wondered whether this was some sort of local fashion, and whether Mark would have to do something about it. The only waistcoats Mark owned were the subdued ones that matched his most formal suits, and nothing that came close to this enthusiastic silk extravagance.

"Sam Webber?" asked Teddy, or Freddy, and when the man nodded, "I'm the liaison officer, James Peterson, you should have been warned about our arrival?"

"In a very limited way, yes."

"Good," said Kenny or Denny. "Si—Mark, this is Sam. He'll be your b--, he'll be the person looking after you while you're here."

"Nice to meet you," greeted Mark.

This meeting wouldn't be like all those others with all those people who knew him before. This was a brand-new start. With a real co-worker! It was all very exciting.

"And you," replied Sam, returning his handshake.

Sam concealed his own real feelings from the introduction. Sam had feared the worst when he was suddenly assigned a new team member he had not even requested. He was once again being punished for having done a job too well – in this particular case, gently convincing problem employees who too well connected to actually fire to at least not continue actively damaging the government. This would be the last time, Sam vowed to himself (disregarding the fact that he'd made that vow before). If this new guy wasn't up to do the job, he'd get reported up the line just like anyone else. Sam would chase it up as long as it took, this time.

Then Mark smiled so hopefully that Sam couldn't help but return it. He reminded Sam of an overeager puppy, with his too-large eyes, and the way he was subtly bouncing in place like he expected Sam to throw a ball for him at any moment.

Sam sighed. It might be reasonable not to give Mark more chances than he would anyone else, but it wasn't fair to give him fewer chances either. Sam decided he would treat Mark just as if he were legitimately a brand-new hire and see how it went. Mark couldn't be much older than twenty-five, if he was even that old. Boys that age deserved chances.

"Welcome to the Events Team. Our job here is mostly to say 'no' to people in ways that doesn't make them upset. No, they can't have fireworks in a wooded area in the dry season. No, they can't close the busiest commercial street on the Saturday before Christmas to film a tiny independent production. No, they're not allowed to have a parade with live elephants. I hope you enjoy your time here."

The liaison said his goodbyes to them both and scurried away, looking both reluctant and relieved to be leaving. Mark erased the man's existence from his memory. He had much more important things to think about now – like his new workplace. He followed along dutifully as Sam pointed out what seemed to be the essential parts of the office – meeting rooms, a tiny box to have phone calls in, the toilets, and lastly the break room.

"Anything perishable left in the fridge will be thrown out on Friday nights, so take you stuff home if you care about it. The office milk is in the bottom shelf. People bring in their own personal oat milk substitute or whatever, so don't use anything else without asking. Glasses, plates, cutlery. Hot water, cold water. Coffee maker. New pods are in the drawer to the left, and email Margaret if we run out entirely. If the red warning light is on, just jiggle the teaspoon until the light switches off."

Mark pondered said teaspoon in fascination where it was poised, upright, wedged between the black grating and the body of the coffee machine. He could not fathom the logic of using cutlery to solve a problem rather than having it properly repaired or replaced. Perhaps the team had some sort of sentimental attachment to the machine? Had it been the overseer of some important decisions in the past? Had it been the feature of some particularly witty practical joke?

Sam swept along and Mark followed him like a duckling. "And this is Margaret. Margaret, our new hire. Could you get him set up on a machine and get him started on the compliance modules?"

And with that, Sam was gone. After all that expectation and worry, and Mark instead spent his first day out in the world – by himself! As an independent adult! – doing very much the same thing that he had been doing at RaCA: viewing online lectures and taking multiple choice quizzes. He was a little let-down, to be entirely honest. He had not expected, as a university graduate, to be answering questions about how fires started and why falling down a flight of stairs was probably a bad idea. The system seemed to think he had the attention span of a five-year-old, and the life experience to match. But he ploughed through the various training modules with good humour none-the-less. He was sure that he'd be doing meaningful, satisfying work in no time. The second day of work was bound to be much better!