Silver / clay

⊱ 21 ⊰

"Thanks for the chance," said Caleb, looking up from his work.

"Of course," said Damien, across the other side of the desk, "you deserved it."

They were squirrelled away, alone, in a small makeshift office, but it didn't feel constraining, the glass walls looking out onto Caleb's regular office floor.

"I think I'm missing the last page," he said.

"I've got them here, somewhere, hang on a tick," said Damien, rifling through a few coloured folders.

It was all feeling more comfortable for Caleb. The more audits he performed, the easier it was, simply a matter of following the same processes one by one until you got to the end, which is why a question burned to be asked. "Forgive me for my bluntness--"

"I like blunt," said Damien, happy to suspend his search. "I'd rather all your opinions were out in the open."

"Right," said Caleb. "Like I said, I value the opportunity--"

"That's not being blunt," said Damien.

"This audit isn't..." said Caleb, remaining deferential, "it doesn't seem particularly special."

"It's not," said Damien. "Well spotted."

"Then why...if I can ask...why the special treatment?"

"Professional development."

"For me?" said Caleb.

Damien sat back in his chair. "I could have picked anyone out there to help with this," he said, waving indiscriminately, "but I chose you. Do you know why?"

Caleb thought back to the long days and even longer nights he'd spent in this building, unable to hold in a yawn.

"You're the hardest working out of all our new recruits, sure," said Damien, "but that only takes you so far. There are other skills you'll need to get ahead in this business. You like money, right?"

"I like earning it," said Caleb, leaving off the full source of his joy.

"Exactly," said Damien. "And the reward for the studious worker bee is to make honey for someone else."

Depending on the someone else, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But Damien meant others in the company, and possibly those outside it, which meant less for Amala.

"It's not technically a zero-sum game," continued Damien, "but until you're at the stage you can bring in your own clients, you need to snatch a larger piece of the pie, before you're beaten to it. Whatever it takes."

The phrase made Caleb seek out Xifeng. She was already staring his way in a mix of spite and covetousness.

He dropped his head immediately, his eyes randomly falling on an unusually swollen figure.

"What is it?" said Damien, reading his perplexed expression.

"Under legal liability," said Caleb, raising the paper and facing toward his boss.

Damien had insisted on using only paper printouts of the firm's financial statements. It seemed strange, but Caleb assumed it was simply an anachronistic practice, or that it was easier to spot potential issues away from a screen. These were the type of tips that could help him develop in his career, and why he was so thankful to be under this experienced practitioner's tutelage.

"Ah, that's the wrong one," said Damien, taking it back.

"Wrong...what?" said Caleb.

Damien gave the closed door a cursory glance. "I need you to lower it in your calculations."

"Lower?" said Caleb. "To what?"

"Closer to zero," said Damien, plainly.

Caleb hesitated.

"Look, I know them personally, they're good people. They just need a chance to get out from under the weight of a few bad decisions. You've made mistakes in your life, right?"

Caleb thought back to the times he'd considered his own needs over Amala's, seeking validation or confirmation.

He nodded.

"Exactly," said Damien. "It's just a couple out-of-court settlements, not something the world needs to know, not when they've already made significant changes to the company culture. It could crush them. We're talking thousands of people of out work. Who wants that?"

"OK," said Caleb, genuinely willing to submit to his mentor's reasonable request.

"Good lad," said Damien. "You've done such a good job on this, I'll make sure that bonus is on your next pay. And it's only the beginning. If you work smarter, not harder, you'll have a whole platter of pies to devour."

"Sounds good," said Caleb, knowing who'd be doing the eating. His stomach growled.

"Ooh, what's the time?" said Damien, already standing. "I'm late. Keep working on this, I trust you, I've just got one of those make-them-happy-whatever-it-takes lunch meetings." He stopped at the door. "You know, your old mate Fengy would have been a handy partner to bring along, knowing their tastes. If she was more agreeable. Psychologically speaking, I mean."

Once the door completely closed, Xifeng's stare caught Caleb's attention once more. She was a lot of things, agreeable certainly wasn't one of them. But he'd beaten her to this position, this opportunity--

He stood quickly, his mind on the task at hand, and clambered over the desk for the red folder left behind by a rushed Damien, scouring for the final page of the statement. Instead, he found another document, not the type he was used to reading, filled with legal disclaimers for how the ratings were used, denying any responsibility. What ratings? He flipped back a few pages and found the heading, a summary psychological make-up of applicants. He read the names of Patrick, Riley, Sebastian, Drishti, and Xifeng. Under his own evaluation a few key phrases were circled, particularly the high values he'd scored on respect for authority and agreeableness.

He held the page for a moment, in both his hand and his mind. Then, as discreetly as possible, he placed it back exactly where he found it, swapping the document for the one he was after, quietly returning to the audit.