Company - Max Barry [54]
Roger raises an eyebrow. “I was saying that in a consolidation, the department with the strongest manager comes out on top. We have Sydney. So stop panicking.”
“Right! Sydney. Sydney will save us.”
“Unless . . .” Roger hesitates. “Well, unless she's asked to choose between saving the department or her own position.”
Holly claps a hand over her mouth.
“But I'm sure that won't happen,” Roger says.
Freddy is not sure. Neither is Holly. She spies Elizabeth, pale and unsteady, tottering back from the bathroom. Elizabeth has been using the bathroom a lot lately. Every time Holly goes looking for her, she's in the bathroom. “Elizabeth! What have you heard? Are we going to be consolidated?”
Elizabeth looks blank. “Consolidated?”
“The voice mail. Do you know if . . .” Holly trails off. She's staring at Elizabeth's blinking voice-mail light. Elizabeth hasn't heard the announcement. Holly is shocked. Elizabeth always knows what's happening before everyone else. But not, apparently, today. While everyone was listening to the voice mail, Elizabeth was in the bathroom.
Elizabeth says, “What's this about consolidations?”
“Um . . .” Holly shifts her feet. “Well . . .”
Zephyr Holdings has just gotten back to work after the network outage, but now that there's a consolidation looming, no one has the time for it. Throughout the building, work stalls. The wheels of industry crash to a halt and the rumor mill starts turning. Within minutes, Zephyr is manufacturing rumors at world-class levels. If rumors could be sold, this kind of productivity would be cause for special announcements and award ceremonies—but they can't, and even Senior Management knows this. When it realizes what is going on, Senior Management places a conference call to the departmental heads. All staff are forbidden to speculate about the consolidations, it instructs. They should know better; here Senior Management is trying to save everyone's job, and all they care about is whether they still have a job. Get back to work!
The departmental managers could not agree more. Their heads bob up and down, even though this is a phone call. Their voices drip earnestness. They are behind Senior Management 110 percent. Or more! The bids rise quickly.
But once they're off the phone their level of support drops, first to realistic levels, then lower. “Senior Management hasn't decided which departments will be consolidated,” the managers say in response to their staff's nervous, sweaty questions. “Or maybe they have but they're not telling. Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know what the hell they're doing.” Frightened employees huddle around coffee machines. Rumor production heads underground and flourishes there. The out-trays of laser printers grow thick with updated résumés.
Meanwhile, Senior Management gathers in the sun-drenched boardroom. Things get off to an awkward start when it is suggested, in not quite so many words, that perhaps it was unwise of Daniel Klausman to announce there would be consolidations before anyone had decided what, exactly, was going to be consolidated. Perhaps it would have been a good idea for Klausman to clue in Senior Management to his big plan. Maybe, just possibly, it would have been better for Senior Management to find out about the consolidations before everybody else.
Senior Management buttocks shift uncomfortably. Klausman does not attend these meetings, but it is widely accepted that he knows what happens in them. Some suspect the room is bugged: microphones in the flowers, cameras in the eyes of portraits, that sort of thing. Others wonder about moles. A few are developing the theory that someone in Senior Management is Daniel Klausman, but they keep this quiet because admitting you've never met the CEO face-to-face is tantamount to announcing your political irrelevance. Whichever it is, Senior Management is very keen to appear loyal. It's impeccably fair of Klausman to keep the whole workforce in the loop, they argue. They thump the table for the benefit of the hidden microphones,