Echoes

Plans Change

    "Miss McKenzie," Morton's voice bellowed, "get in here!"
    Hope froze with terror and her breath caught in her throat. That's the tone he uses when I've screwed up something big. She swallowed her fear and scurried to the door. "Yes, Mister Morton?"
    "The incoming accounts spreadsheet you submitted last week used inaccurate data. Looks to me like you didn't start with the most recent records from Accounting." He glared beneath bushy eyebrows, and his clenched jaw made his cheeks puff like a squirrel hoarding food. Hope might have laughed had his anger been directed at someone else. "Our firm can't afford mismanaged financial documentation, Miss McKenzie."
    Hope opened her mouth to protest, but the crimson hue of Morton's face and the throbbing vein in the side of his forehead kept her silent. Her heart sank. I'm almost done with this week's report, and I'm going to have to start over.
    Morton thumped his massive desk with a fist. "You've got one key task each week. Simple math and attention to detail, that's all we pay you for. And you're not getting it right."
    Hope stared at her feet and shuffled in the doorway. "I--I'll fix this, sir."
    "Really? Oh, that's a relief. Here I thought we'd just leave the books wrong until our next audit."
    "I would never, sir."
    "Gee, you think?" Morton harrumphed and muttered into his computer screen, "Thinking--thank God we're not paying you for that."
    Hope returned to her desk and blinked away sudden moisture. She moused over the desktop folder containing the financial records, then stared at the screen. Alternating waves of frustration and futility crashed against her spirit.
    "The cleaners texted," Morton called from his office, a sudden softness to his voice. "How 'bout you pick up the suits? Give you a chance to clear your head."
    Hope grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and slipped out the door without a word.

    Visions of black and red numbers shifted along interwoven rows and columns in her mind as Hope wove through the streams of bodies in motion on the sidewalk. She scanned her memories of the last week. What happened? I was watching the news about the campaign scandal. I must have missed a step, miscalculated some equation or other.
    Her phone buzzed with a message from Claudia. "Gonna finally make one of my fights tonight? I saved you a front row seat."
    Hope squeezed her eyes shut and loosed a deep breath before texting back, "Sorry, can't. Gotta work."
    Another buzz. "You promised."
    Hope shook her head in anger and shoved the phone into her purse as she stepped into the street. Eight hours compiling all the data, with countless opportunites to catch the mistake. Now all that work meant nothing. So much for a promotion as a Christmas present to myself.
    Another year tiptoeing around the office, avoiding Morton's wrath. Another year in that broken down apartment, with no one but Button and Mittens. One more step toward becoming the crazy cat lady.
    A horn honked to her right, and she spun in time to see the grill of a sedan before she tumbled across the hood. Hope's shoulder slammed into the windshield and the jarring impact rattled her teeth. She rolled across the roof, clipped the trunk with the side of her head, and landed facedown on the pavement.
    Screams registered in her mind, distant and unfamiliar voices shouting for help.
    And one thought filled her before consciousness faded: Wasn't there supposed to be more to life than this?

* * *

    A violent earthquake rocked the plaza, and the Hub darkened. Voices called out in confusion and fear. Lights flickered in the dome, muted and weak. Echoes rushed about sorting out what happened to the Prime.
    A misty light formed in the air and rushed into Forsephore's body, granting her a measure of the Inspiration by which Echoes determined their rank in the hierarchy. Invigorating energy coursed through Forsephore where she knelt. She rose to her feet, looking at her open palms.
    The fingers seemed solid, formed of living shadow. No longer a Fade, she realized, but still not enlightened. It's a chance, the only one I've got.
    Forsephore still couldn't remember what she represented. But she knew what to do next.
    She reviewed the list of Echoes she'd seen, and marched toward the Hub.