Machine Man - Max Barry [15]
“We’re so pleased,” added Cassandra Cautery. She was smiling, too.
“Everything’s set up for you.” We began to walk toward the glass doors. I was a little awkward and my ski toes dragged. “That’s amazing,” said D. Peters. “What is that, ah, that called?”
“It’s an Exegesis Archion.”
“And what’s the idea there? With the design?”
“It doesn’t waste so much kinetic energy.”
He nodded. “Mmm. Clever.”
The glass doors parted. We entered the air-regulated coolness of Better Future. The lobby had very high ceilings, even for us, and was connected via a glass wall to the atrium. There were birds in there. They lived their whole lives inside the company. A couple of white coats crossing the floor glanced at my foot with professional interest. It was hard to walk when you were self-conscious about it.
“I’m going to let you get to work,” said D. Peters. “But if there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all, I’m a phone call away.”
“Okay.”
“Good man.” For a second I thought he was going to punch my arm. But he didn’t. He strode briskly away, to do whatever it was the managers did. Have meetings, I guess. Make phone calls. It was hard for us on the technical side to understand why the company required so many managers. Engineers built things. Salespeople sold things. Even Human Resources I could understand, kind of. But managers proliferated despite performing very few identifiable functions.
Cassandra Cautery swiped into Building A. I followed. “You can really move on that,” she said. I nodded. We didn’t talk for a while. When we reached the elevators, a few people joined us, but no one spoke. I couldn’t tell if they were uncomfortable around my leg or didn’t care. Cassandra Cautery inspected something on her sleeve. The elevator dinged and we stepped inside. A man tried to join us but Cassandra Cautery said, “Would you mind very much taking the next one? Thank you.”
The doors closed. The car hummed. Cassandra Cautery said, “I suffer from diastema.” Her face was faintly flushed. “It’s a gap between the teeth.” She dug a finger into her mouth and stretched back her lips. Between her canines and her molars was a space, almost a centimeter wide. She released her lips. “I saw five different specialists but they all said the same thing. It’s inoperable. There’s a bundle of nerves there and the way the teeth are sitting, they can’t be moved without risking permanent damage. Facial paralysis.” She blinked three times. “It was hard to deal with. Growing up. I dieted. I ran and swam and did Pilates. The girls in my social group in high school, well, you probably won’t understand, but they were fierce. About appearance. I told my parents I wanted the operation anyway. I didn’t care if I got facial paralysis. They said no. We fought for months.”
The elevator doors opened. Cassandra Cautery glanced out. The corridor was empty. I shifted uncomfortably.
“But you know what? I’m glad I have this. I’m proud of it. Not proud. Grateful. For the lesson. You can’t be perfect, no matter how hard you try. That’s the message. You don’t stop trying to improve yourself. You keep pushing yourself in the areas you can control. But when you come up against something like diastema, all you can do is accept it. You can only take a deep breath and say, ‘This is who I am.’ ”
There was silence. “Okay,” I said.
“I’ve never told anyone else about this. I’d appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”
“Okay.”
She smiled. “I just want you to know you’re not alone.”
CASSANDRA CAUTERY escorted me as far as the Glass Room. Inside, my lab assistants Jason and Elaine were at their desks. Katherine I could see down in Lab 2, doing something to rats. Katherine was always messing with those rats. She’d made them little houses and ramps out of sheet fiber. One had a kind of swing. I had been meaning to take