The Easy Way, Jacob Cottrell - Constellate Literary Journal

For the nine hundred and twelfth day in a row, the alarm clock rang at quarter to six. Jin awoke, his eyes still crusty with sleep, and pushed back his silk sheets. With the alarm pounding his eardrums, he checked his body tracker to see what time he’d finally nodded off the night before. Its artificial light blinded him before his eyes focused enough to read ‘01:24 – 05:45’. Fantastic. Just fantastic.
The cartoon bee appeared, winking and yelling: ‘Congratulations! Looks like a new personal best. Don’t get used to it, SLEEPY HEAD. Time to work!’
As he hauled on his Wednesday suit; a navy blue with subtle plaid detail, Jin fantasised about how he might kill the bee, if it were real. Yesterday an aerosol can seemed like the appropriate weapon. Today, however, he had an urge to crush the thing beneath his boot. Try winking at that, you fuzzy shit. He drifted through his kitchen, passing the unopened fondue set, and through his large living room where a dusty, sixty inch television hung on the wall. At the door, Jin picked up an apple and left.
In the hallway of the apartment building, he came across a short Helot girl. She was a miserable creature with close-cropped hair and dirty fingernails. In his dog-tired condition Jin was quick to irritate and found himself internally cursing the girl for upsetting his morning with her presence. Amidst her wretched features, though, Jin noticed her eyes lacked the bags that his had.
There was never time for breakfast. The most Jin’s schedule permitted was a quick coffee from the Bumble Café, with his fellow Employees. It was a tastefully decorated place, but they never spent more than five minutes there. They queued, ordered and left in rapid time. The baristas made the experience pleasant, but they were unnecessary and would soon be made redundant by machines that could do the job in half the time.
On the train, Jin bobbed in time with the rest of the passengers. He’d found a seat beside acquaintances from his building and they chatted, sipping liquid energy and ignoring the pain as it scalded their throats. His stomach rumbled.
‘Did you see they finally cracked how to make the automated call centre voices sound human?’ Simon blurted between swallows. ‘That’ll be another couple million jobs gone.’
‘Poor souls,’ Gemma sighed, ‘such a shame when good people have to become Helots.’ Her tone dutifully morphed to one of judgement. ‘Mind you, a bloke in my office actually chose the easy way, last week.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Steve chimed, ‘the amount of hours we put in to hold down a proper job, it’s a wonder we don’t all just quit and take the easy way. Did you know, it’s mandatory for Helots to get three meals a day?’
Jin almost choked on his coffee. ‘Really?’
‘I know, and they have strict shifts. They don’t work a minute longer than they’re supposed to. I guess they need the rest, on account of their work being so physical.’
‘That doesn’t sound too bad…’
Natalie was unmoved. ‘Maybe, but they can’t vote, they can’t choose what they eat or what they wear. There’s something, I don’t know, dirty about the thought of being a Helot. They all stink of laziness.’
On the theme of laziness, Jin told the group about the Helot girl he’d seen in his building and how she looked as though she’d had at least seven hours sleep.
‘Exactly,’ Simon agreed, ‘and they don’t get the same apartments as we do. They sleep in pens with at least thirty other people. There’s only one explanation for that. It’s because we work hard, and they don’t. Think of their kids, too. They grow up with the whole world looking down on them. I’d never put my family through that.’
The group nodded in agreement. The train pulled into the station, so they drained their cups and went their separate ways to the grind.

* * *

Jin stared, heavy eyed, at the designs on his computer screen; the eighth draft in as many weeks. There was no passion left for the project. Whether it was the look of the product or its cost efficiency or some other, minor fault, something was always ‘below company standards’. With deadlines looming, his nights were getting later, his mornings earlier and he’d be damned if he hadn’t found a grey hair the evening before.
Jin’s supervisor poked his head through the office door, ‘Jin-meister! Old Jin dog.’
‘Hi Gavin.’
‘Just a quick one. Need to ask a teeny favour.’
Jin’s face twitched. He poised himself, ready to calculate how many nights of sleep he’d have to sacrifice for Gavin’s tiny favour.
‘Our marketing guy chose the easy way last night so we need someone to pick up the slack while they train up a Helot to replace him. It’s not much, you just need to finish his event plan and write the pitch.’
Jin’s stomach churned. That was easily a week’s worth of work on top of his own. ‘But that’s not my department and I’m already behind on my own wo-’
‘Buddy, I think it’s just as crap as you do. I’m just telling you what the boss lady tells me. Oh and speaking of your work, Beatrice really wants to see those designs finished by next week. Said something about the project costing more than it’s worth, so I’d get a shift on, if you want to stay ahead of redundancy. Anyway,’ he clicked his fingers and pointed at Jin, ‘I’ll catch you later, buddy. Work hard.’

* * *

On the way home, Jin’s attention was drawn to a Helot opening doors for guests to a hotel. The way he slouched against the wall between openings, Natalie was right, he did reek of laziness.
Design drafts and event plans dominated the evening. Once again there was no time to break out the fondue set – not that there was anyone to share a meal with. Instead, Jin satisfied, or at least quelled, his hunger with a supplement cube; beef and gravy flavour. It wasn’t until gone midnight that he finally crawled into bed to play a round of Sudoku, but his leisure was dashed when the phone rang.
‘Hello Mum.’
‘Jin baby, you didn’t call again.’ The overtly proper voice of Jin’s mother exclaimed. ‘I’m watching one of those Helot dating shows-’
‘Christ Mum, not this again.’
‘Yes this again, it’s important. It’s the one where they match two of them together and make them get married, and it reminded me that you still haven’t found a wife. You’ll never be respected while you’re alone.’
‘I’ve got a lot on my plate. It hasn’t been a priori-’
‘Women don’t like men who can’t manage their time, Jin. I didn’t follow your father when he chose the easy way, so don’t think any other girl will do it for you.’
‘I’m not choosing the easy way, Mum. I’m just not looking-’
‘Well get looking or you might as well let someone else control your life. They’d do a better job of it.’ She hung up the phone, leaving Jin to ponder his shortcomings before drifting into a healthy three hour sleep.

* * *

The following day, a stand had been erected outside the office, advertising ‘care free lives’ pedalling machines that powered the city. A shrill voiced woman beckoned him over to the stand, declaring that there was ‘a nice chemical plant job with his name on it’. Jin scoffed, though more out of instinct than true scorn.
Not a second after he’d sat down at his desk a voice from behind wailed,
‘Jin!’ It was never a good sign when the queen bee called your name. ‘Read your bloody emails.’
Ever the servant, Jin did as he was told and after scrolling past the usual wall complaints and agendas, he discovered a message with the maturely capitalised subject: *LAST WARNING*, reading as follows,

‘Jin,
You’re running dangerously close to the deadline for those designs. The client wants to see blueprints and I have nothing to show them. If you’re not up to the task, I will find someone who is.
Don’t make me tell you again!

B’.

Jin’s head sank into his palms. Was this really worth it? He wondered whether he would be happier trading his free will for the easy way; for mandatory sleep and a prescribed partner. In truth, he was too tired to tell.
Employees were allowed twenty minutes for lunch. Usually Jin used the time for a power nap, but today was not usual. The thought of staying in the office for a second longer was agonizing, so he opted for a walk instead. His feet carried him South, to an urbanised slum on the far side of the river. It was his first time in the Helot district. The housing pens were stacked high in rusty columns. Smoke billowed from factory chimneys and the greasy air that wafted from chemical plants clung to the back of Jin’s throat, making him gag. It was unclear to him why he had come this way. Perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps curiosity. Perhaps it was to remind himself what he was striving to avoid.
A cattle truck rumbled past. Through the gaps in the cage frame, Jin saw human faces staring back him. No doubt the cargo of Helots was being ferried to a pedalling centre where they would work bicycle machines to generate power for the office. Looking at their grey clad bodies and humble faces, Jin was sure that none of them had ever enjoyed a fondue dinner. Such treats were what made the Employee lifestyle worthwhile. He cast his mind back to the last meal he’d enjoyed. It was… Jin’s memory failed him. He was sure there had been a time recently. Last week? No, he’d had to cancel to work late. The week before? No, not then either. A spontaneous self-awareness came upon him. He whirled around with childish impulse to prove himself; to assert his importance as an Employee. His eyes zeroed in on a woman in tatty overalls.
‘You! Why aren’t you working?’
The Helot woman looked at Jin, confused. ‘Me?’ she asked. ‘It’s my day off.’
‘Your day off? Do you think I’m stupid? It’s Thursday.’
‘You’re crazy!’ The woman scurried off into one of the grotty towers, leaving Jin alone and disoriented.
He looked at his body tracker. The Helot woman was right. In bold letters, beside the time, the screen showed the word ‘Sunday’. For the Helots it was a day of rest, but for Jin it may as well have been the middle of the week.
As if on cue, the cartoon bee appeared, mocking him with a friendly wink. ‘Only five minutes left! Time to get back to work.’
Back at the office, there was no time to wallow in self-pity. The phone rang minutes after Jin returned. Instinctively he picked up before the second ring.
‘Hello?’
‘Good morning, sir. Is this Jin from apartment 92B speaking?’ The caller was a chirpy female voice.
Slightly unsure whether she was a genuine human or one of the AI voices that Simon had mentioned, Jin confirmed the question.
‘Excellent. I’m calling to notify you that, as of next week, your monthly rent will be increasing by three hundred pounds.’
‘No, no, that can’t be right. I agreed a fixed rate with the landlord. I can’t affor-’
‘We’re very sorry,’ The voice interrupted. Something about her intonation was off; definitely automated, ‘but due to unforeseen volumes of resident failures choosing the easy way, the company has been forced to raise the fees for all remaining tenants. If you have any questions regar-’
Jin hung up the phone. He didn’t say a word to the boss nor to his supervisor. He simply stood up, turned and walked out of the office. He walked into the lift and took it down to the ground floor where he left, without so much as making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t think about Simon or Natalie, or Gavin or his mother; he just stepped out through the doors and found the newly erected stand.
‘Well good morning, sir. How can we help you today?’
Jin stared at the round-faced woman behind the stand and then down at the list of occupations; doorman, peddler, lift operative, harvester, sewage clearer, and so on.
‘I want to be like them.’
‘Excuse me, sir?’
Jin wrapped his fingers around either side of the stand’s width. Nothing was going to placate him at that moment. ‘I want you to take it. Take all of it. My home, my job, my money; everything. I want to be like them.
The woman didn’t stir, though Jin noticed her eyebrows sat somewhat higher on her forehead, now.
‘Just put me on the bikes or in the sewers. I don’t want to worry anymore. I want the easy way. Can you give me that?’
The woman behind the stand smiled like the receptionist of a fancy hotel, ‘We thought you’d never ask.’