Company - Max Barry [8]
“Permanent?”
“Well, they can't lift it now,” Freddy says. “Every department would start hiring like crazy. We used to have eight reps and eight assistants.”
“Also,” Holly says, “Zephyr needs to show it's serious about cost cutting. If we started hiring people again now, our stock price would tumble. Further, I mean.”
“Well, that's what they say. In my opinion, it's just an excuse to shovel work onto us guys in the trenches while Senior Management gets bonuses for meeting cost-reduction targets. Not to mention the golden handcuffs. You know about golden handcuffs?”
Jones nods. “Sure, the bonus an executive gets when he leaves the company.”
“No, no, that's a golden parachute.”
“Oh—right. The signing bonus, then.”
“That's the golden handshake. Golden handcuffs are what they get for working in a company with low morale. First they screw up the company, then because it's hard to attract good staff, they pay themselves more.”
“But that's wrong!” Jones says, shocked. “Did somebody take this up with Daniel Klausman?”
Freddy cracks up again. Even Holly smiles. “Remember when you first started here, Freddy, and you thought everyone was clever and helpful and only wanted to do what's best for the company?”
“Yeah. I used to shine my shoes.”
Jones says, “So with this freeze, how did you hire me?”
“It was Freddy's idea. We process your salary as office expenses. Copy paper, specifically.”
“That reminds me,” Freddy says to Holly, “do you have to xerox all of Elizabeth's orders? Because the paper in that machine has to last until January.”
“We probably won't last until January. I might as well xerox while I can.”
“I'm copy paper?” Jones says.
“Don't worry, it's just a paperwork thing. It doesn't affect anything. Well, unless they cut our stationery budget. But there's nothing to sweat about, this is just a little creative accounting. It goes on all the time.”
A wave of red light sweeps through the department. For a second Jones thinks he's fainting. Then he thinks the building has lost power and the emergency lights have kicked in. But it's the phones: all their voice-mail lights are suddenly blinking.
“Argh.” Freddy picks up his phone. “I hate it when they do that.” He tucks it under his ear. “All-staff voice mail. There should be instructions on your phone, Jones.”
There are. Jones engages in a brief struggle with the voice-mail menu and comes out of it victorious.
“Click. Hi, it's Megan. Sydney asked me to pass this out. Click. Megan, this is Sydney. There's a message following from the CEO. Copy it to everyone, thanks. Click. Good morning, it's Janice . . . message following. Click. Hi, Janice . . . there's a message following this from Daniel Klausman. Please see that it gets out. Thanks. Click. Hello everyone, this is Meredith from Daniel Klausman's office. Please distribute the following message to all staff. Click.”
A dramatic pause. Then: “Meredith, this is Daniel Klausman. Please send this on to my department heads for distribution to all headcounts.”
Jones blinks in surprise. He doesn't think it's a terrific idea for the CEO to call his staff “headcounts.” That's not what they taught at business school. Jones feels a touch of excitement at spotting the mistake, like a chess prodigy who finds a flaw in Kasparov. He begins a few wild thoughts with: If I was CEO . . . These distract Jones from observing that it may not be a terrific idea to be employed by a CEO who calls his staff “headcounts,” either.
“Good afternoon everyone. I hope you've had a positive start to the week and kicked a few goals for Zephyr. Today I want to address the recent movement in our share price. It's important for everyone to understand there's no need for panic. Share prices often rise and fall for reasons unrelated to a company's performance. The market can overreact to