Chiefly

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator.

In the shabby little room where dust bunnies rolled along like tumbleweeds across the hardwood floor, she was awakened by the sound of the musical alarm.

She peered at the towering skyscrapers of Wilmington, Delaware, reflecting against the sun. Akixa Clime was used to the music though it still pulsated through her being. After a quick shower, the twenty-two year old dressed and straightened her bed and area, including sweeping away the dust bunnies. She had skin the color of hazelnut and eyes the shade of Colombian coffee. Small breasts and sturdy legs and big, beautiful curls colored the woman’s figure.

Next, she fixed herself a breakfast of scrapple, hash browns, eggs served over hard, and two pieces of sausage. She washed it all down with orange juice. How she maintained her slight frame amazed her boss, Graither Jeksman. She called him “Jerksman” behind his back. She enjoyed the view from his window nonetheless. He was short and skinny at the same time. A short Afro looked combed every day. The music returned.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator.

This programmed her to commence work on the computer system. She was the only one privileged enough to enjoy just a fleeting sight of the landscape. The other men and women had to stay restricted to their floating computer stations.

Akixa walked by the rows of workers. They sneered at her with grimacing faces. Grubby hands offered her single fingered salutes behind her back. She sat down at the head of the table that connected the rows to one another.

Around the room, tension built like lasers gathering power to smash atoms. Akixa cut through it all and began her work.

A mother and daughter sat by each other and entered code for coins on the dollar. They were white as glaciers and just as icy.

“She thinks she’s special. Just because she earned the least amount of money before all of this,” Mother Fedly Histon mocked. She had lotion-smooth white skin and flint eyes. Her daughter Gerisphone looked at Akixa while listening to her mother’s words. She had an oval face with a small nose and a thick lower lip.

“I made more than this in spades,” Gerisphone declared.

“Of course. We were CEOs of two of the biggest companies by market cap. Now, we’re stuck here because of the government’s vicious edicts,” Gerisphone continued.

“Quiet. Here he comes.”

Jeksman strolled past the mother-daughter duo.

“Good morning, ladies,” Jeksman tipped his cap to them.

“Good morning, sir,” they said in unison.

“What are you two talking about?”

“We’re just commenting on the glorious living conditions, our scraps from the Head Lady’s plate and how wonderful it is to be here!” Gerisphone said all of this sarcastically but Jeksman did not detect any of that.

“Good, good. I’m glad you gals have really got a hang of things. I was starting to worry in the beginning.”

“Well, worry no more,” Fedly remarked. She beamed the whole time until Jeksman turned his back. Then, a scowl covered her face.

“I know you were being sarcastic,” Jinila Rostrum pointed out. The CEO of a bank chimed. She had a brown, angular face and green eyes that looked like cut emeralds. She could not stop grinning.

“I’m glad you stuck it to him and he didn’t even realize it. I thought starting a philanthropy would increase my chances of not being selected. I was making eight figures at my job. Now, I can’t even make eight cents a day.”

“What do you say we rise up?” Gerisphone was as serious as a major car wreck.

“That won’t work,” Wrenlo Watting answered. He had skin the color of fresh black truffles. “I was a CEO of a rocket ship corporation. When the rounding up happened, I had to leave my business to these disasters with skin and hair. They of course couldn’t figure it out so the company folded. That didn’t stop them from sending my staff across the globe to have them work on problems way below their station. The only difference was they had to complete the work with speed,” Watting explained. “I’m telling you, a revolt would be no good.”

“We must act!” Gerisphone exclaimed and later regretted it.

One of the armed guards walked over to Gerisphone and struck her face with butt of his rifle.

Jeksman returned to the area where the mother-daughter team sat across from Watting.

“Are we alright down here? Or do we have to go to the Romper Room again, Gerisphone?”

“No, sir, she's fine!” Fedly replied on behalf of her offspring.

“That is so good. Say less. Oh, and say less.” Jeksman walked away from the group.

Blood pooled in Gerisphone’s mouth as if a faucet had spilled crimson liquid from its fount. Fedly reached for a handkerchief and applied it to her daughter’s lip which was now even bigger.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator.

This music chimed to signal the time for lunch meals to be passed out to the workers. Their hands had become knotty from constant typing and coding. They grabbed their trays and fell in line for the amount of gruel to be plopped on their plates.

“We’ve got to do something,” Watting announced quietly to the ladies. “We’ve got to get the Head Lady to express how she really feels about Jeksman. If we do that, we may have a way out of here.”

The dank room featured sweaty bodies trudging to get their gruel. Watting’s plan couldn’t come sooner.

“Yes, but how do we accomplish such a feat?”

“We can put something in her meal tonight…to knock her out, you know?” Janila muttered.

“She’s a captive like us. It’s just that she’s been shown favor over all of us because of her lower station.”

“Which means we should take her out first,” Watting emphasized.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. The signal for the meal to be over sounded.

“I know she’s allergic to paprika. By evening meal, I’ll be on kitchen duty so I can access the spice,” Watting mentioned.

“Let’s do that, then,” Fedly declared.

The more the once c-suite members coded, the more power they generated. The circuits surged under the power of the most productive people. The lights punched through the dimness of the large, dingy room as the evening came.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator.

Watting exchanged knowing glances as he donned his apron and a hair net.

He worked his way to the spice rack and found the lethal substance. He made his way to Akixa’s plate of steak and lobster, asparagus, and a baked potato meal. He slinked closer to it and Jeksman obstructed his movement.

“Good evening, sir,” Watting acknowledged.

“What do you call yourself doing?”

“I was about to poison the Head Lady, make a scene, and then dispatch you in an all-out coup,” Watting responded.

Jeksman looked at Watting a long time and then burst out laughing.

“I swear, Watting. You can say some whoppers! Carry on.”

A grin found its way to Watting’s face. He advanced to Akixa’s plate. He unscrewed the paprika and saw her out of the corner of his eye and capped the seasoning.

“Hey, Wrenlo.”

“Good evening, Head Lady.”

“I know you prepared my meal. I can’t wait to taste it.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

Akixa skipped away with a smile on her face.

Watting still didn’t hesitate to apply the spice to her baked potato.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the percolator.

The employees waited to eat their gray muck and watched as Akixa took her first bite. They commenced eating their meals. Akixa chewed onto her steak and smiled broadly.

The butter to the side splashed on her baked potato. Watting nodded to Fedly, Gerisphone, and Janila. They looked down at their food. An audible cough cracked through the space. Akixa grabbed at her throat. She experienced anaphylactic shock. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as life escaped her body.

“What the hell?!” Jeksman yelped. He rushed to her side. “Guards! seize Wrenlo Watting!”

Once the guards attempted to apprehend Jeksman, the other producers rose up and charged them and captured their weapons. The mother-daughter duo and Janila all got up from their seats and charged the guards.

As zip ties wrapped around wrists of the captors and guards, the CFOs, CTOs, CPOs CIOs, and CEOs banded together while taking down their oppressors.

“We’ve gained our lives back from these thugs,” Watting said. Janila walked up and put a bullet in Jeksman’s head.

It’s time for the percolator. It’s time for the—”

Gerisphone smashed the speaker system and grabbed the keys to the doors and unlocked them. Into the dark, sacred night, The lights of Wilmington glittered along the horizon as the men and women killed the guards and abandoned their work stations. They fled into the nighttime with freedom on their minds.