A.I. Animus

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    They were both experienced hikers, they were in exceptional physical condition, and they liked to push the envelope of endurance, intentionally going head-long into extreme weather, tempting the elements, and then withdrawing to safety with the distinct possibility of death from natural causes (as they liked to put it) close on their heels. They had checked the weather report and knew that a winter storm warning was in effect for the region, with the snow due to start by mid-afternoon. It was for this reason that the small parking lot at the trail-head was empty as they laced up their boots, donned several layers of merino wool and fleece garments and, each with a knapsack containing lunch and a homemade emergency kit, shared a smile and a nod and headed up the trail which started out flat but grew steep and then steeper so that after the first mile, they were stripping layers and taking frequent water breaks, this despite the sharpness of the cold air on this first day of the new year.

    The plan was to reach the peak within two hours, take some photos, retreat below the timberline just ahead of the storm, eat lunch in the shelter of the forest, and proceed back down the trail to the car. Assuming all would go according to plan, they would be back home before sunset to watch college football while gorging on spicy chili and strong beer. Their wives were accustomed to their spontaneous forays into the teeth of high risk and as usual they urged their husbands to be safe although they had said that so many times over the years that it felt trite.

    Their names were Jeff and Kevin. They had met in high school and quickly formed a close bond over a shared passion for nature and tests of endurance. Just shy of six feet tall, Jeff was lean but strong, while Kevin, two inches shorter, had the stocky build of a running back. They had mannerisms that made people think they were brothers – both were loquacious, and when they smiled, which was often, their eyes lit up with excitement. They also moved with animal-like agility and, true to form, they hiked up the trail with economy of movement, exchanging constant chatter and laughing frequently as they each consumed an energy bar midstride. It was 2 PM when they stepped above the timberline and glimpsed their destination: a blunt and barren peak about a mile above. They sat together on a boulder to rest and check the weather radar on Jeff’s cellphone. The storm system was a huge jagged-edged white blanket on the radar map, and it was closer than expected, the front edge almost eclipsing the blue circle that pinpointed their location.  

   “We better step it up a notch if we want to make the top before the snow starts,” Kevin said.

   “Agreed,” Jeff said, standing. He looked up at the peak. “We’ll make it, but let’s haul ass.”

   This was, they knew, when the fun began. Kevin took the lead, and they proceeded as one, not talking as much as they navigated the treeless, rocky landscape, periodically glancing up to check their progress. They reached the peak just as the first snowflakes began drifting down and they exchanged high-fives and whooped and hollered and snapped several selfies. It was when they looked west that they quieted down. The sky had an otherworldly dark, ominous look and as they stared a wicked wind kicked up, sending blinding snow into their eyes. “Better keep moving,” Kevin said.

“Yeah,” Jeff said, and they turned and headed back down the trail. The rate of snowfall increased rapidly and soon the trail was covered with several inches of windblown powder.  Twice they veered off trail and, realizing their error, backtracked and with effort reoriented and continued.  

    “We pushed the envelope with this one,” Kevin shouted over the roar of the storm, and he forced a smile and punched Jeff on the shoulder.

    “Yeah,” Jeff said, “that hot chili and cold beer will be extra special tonight.” But both men knew intuitively that this time they might have pushed the proverbial envelope too far, that they were in a foot race for their lives. The snow was accumulating at an astonishing rate, and they suddenly found themselves lifting their legs high with each step to get through the drifts. Post-holing, they called it, and within minutes they were red-faced with exhaustion.

    “We just need to get down to tree line and we’ll be fine,” Jeff yelled. “The wind won’t be as strong.”

Kevin nodded and tried to hide his fear. “It’s just a bitch trying to make out the trail.” Together, they looked further down the mountainside. A bluish glow permeated their surroundings, and the distant trees appeared as a dark wall. “And this wind,” he added, tucking his chin into his coat.

    “Come on, man!” Jeff said. “We’ve been here before. All we need to do is keep our cool and keep moving.” Without another word, they resumed the laborious trek down the slope of the mountain. To their growing alarm, the storm seemed to intensify as they made incremental progress. When they reached the tree line, they huddled inside a dense grove of pines, and they knew they had lost the trail for good. Kevin took his cellphone from an inside coat pocket and peered at the screen. He stared at his friend. “I have no cell reception,” he said.

    Jeff took out his phone. “I’m showing one bar, but the cold is draining the battery. He pulled up his hat, dialed a number and jammed the phone to his ear.

    “Who the hell are you calling?” Kevin asked.

    “911,” Jeff said.

    “Are you fucking kidding me?” Kevin shouted.

    Jeff lowered the phone. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not getting through.”  He looked at Kevin and Kevin saw the fear in his friend’s eyes.

    “Hey!” Kevin yelled. He grabbed Jeff’s coat. “Do not lose it on me!”

    Jeff clamped a hand on his friend’s arm. “I’m with you.” He gestured into the murky forest. “Like I said, we just have to keep going downhill and we’ll be okay.”

    “That’s right,” Kevin said. But they were both losing valuable energy, and they knew hypothermia was imminent if they didn’t find respite from the storm. Kevin patted Jeff on the shoulder. “Come on.” With desperate effort, they stood and plunged into the forest, wading in snow up to their knees. They lost track of time and when they stopped again to rest, they both realized that it was getting dark. Kevin pulled up his coat sleeve and looked at his watch. “It’s past 5 o’clock,” he yelled. Jeff shook his head. They knew that if they were caught exposed after nightfall, they would be doomed.

    “Keep moving,” Jeff said wearily. They surged forward with the single-minded purpose of getting off the mountain. But the woods were growing dark rapidly. Both men were spent, and Jeff surprised himself by saying, “I need to rest a minute.”                  Kevin did not object and they both doubled over, hands on knees, breathing heavily as the storm raged and night closed in. Kevin lifted his head and saw something through the trees. He elbowed Jeff and said, “What’s that?”

Jeff looked up, squinting. Through the murk he saw a clearing with some type of structure running left to right. They moved closer. The structure was a building, one story, and about the length of a football field.

    “It’s friggin’ huge,” Kevin said.

    “Maybe there’s someone there!” Jeff yelled. Together, they plowed through the trees and stumbled into the clearing. In the fading light, they saw that the building was made of metal and concrete with a long bank of windows that seemed to be looking at them.

    “Is it a prison?” Kevin asked.

    “No,” Jeff said.

    “A military barracks?”

    “No, and it’s not an office either.” Jeff stepped closer. I think it’s a data warehouse.” They walked up to the building and peered in through a window, but all they saw was black. “One-way visibility windows,” Jeff said. “There’s got to be a main door somewhere.”

     They turned left and walked to the end of the building and turned the corner. The wall of the building stretched out in front of them and disappeared in the blur of the storm. To their left was a large, empty parking lot. “No one’s here,” Kevin said.

    “We don’t know that,” Jeff said. He pointed. “There, a door.”

    They walked up to what appeared to be the main entrance: double doors under a metal awning, each door made of steel with a narrow, vertical window reinforced with wire mesh. They each peered through a window at a dimly lit lobby with a reception desk. Kevin pulled on a handle. “It’s locked!” he shouted over the roar of the wind. He pounded on the door and yelled, “Help! Help!”

    “It’s no use,” Jeff said. They both turned around and slumped down to the ground.  They leaned back against the wall and stared out at the storm. Kevin shivered. “I’m getting hypothermia.”

    “Me, too.” Jeff said. Both men knew the cascading symptoms of hypothermia: uncontrollable shivering, confused thinking, and then the final blow – apathy. Death follows shortly.  

    “I think this is it for us, buddy,” Kevin said.

    “I think you’re right.” Jeff said. He put an arm around Kevin. “At least we’re going down with a fight.”

    “Yeah,” Kevin said. He feebly raised one arm and gestured to the falling snow. “You got us,” he said. A moment later he mumbled, “This will be hard on the girls.”

    They both closed their eyes and prepared to die. And then over the howl of the storm there came a faint click. Jeff opened his eyes. He turned and stared: it appeared that one of the doors was cracked open. Can’t be, he thought. He reached up, grabbed hold of the door handle and pulled. To his amazement, the door opened a little more. “Hey, Kevin,” he said, laughing with delirium and grasping the door handle.

    Kevin opened his eyes. “What, man?”

    “Look.” Jeff said. Kevin turned and looked, uncomprehending. Jeff jumped up and swung the door open. Without another word, Kevin stood and they rushed inside and the door slammed behind them.

    “Oh, my God,” Kevin said, falling to his knees on the marble floor. “Oh, my fucking God, I can’t believe it.” He kissed the floor.

    Jeff leaned against a wall and pulled off a glove. “It’s warm in here, I can feel it.” They both started stripping off their frozen layers of clothes. Jeff pulled his wool anorak off but didn’t change out of his pants. He got a pair of wool socks from his knapsack, swapped out his wet socks and put his boots back on. He checked his cellphone. “I’m not getting any reception in here.”

    Kevin looked at his phone. “Me, neither.”

    Jeff walked across the lobby floor to the reception desk, leaned over the counter, and picked up the receiver to a desk phone. He put it to his ear. “The line’s dead,” he said.

    “How could that be?” Kevin asked.

    “I don’t know. Maybe a telephone pole is down somewhere.”

    “No matter,” Kevin said, looking around. “We have shelter until this storm blows through.”

    Jeff nodded. He looked around the lobby. The receptionist desk was directly opposite the front doors. To the right was a visitor area with several chairs, two couches, and a round glass-topped table with magazines on it, and on each side of the lobby was a dimly lit corridor. “I’m gonna do a little recon,” he said. While Kevin changed into dry clothes from his knapsack, Jeff turned right at the reception desk and entered a shadowy corridor. The corridor was carpeted wall-to-wall and he moved soundlessly. He stopped at an open doorway on the right and peered in. It was a pantry, with a refrigerator, a microwave and a sink. He went over to the sink and turned on the hot water knob and placed a hand under the stream of water. Within a minute, the water was hot. He got two coffee mugs from an overhead cabinet and filled them. He turned and looked at the refrigerator. He knew that in many corporate offices, refrigerators were stocked with bottles of water and snacks. “Oh, I could go for an energy bar now,” he said. He walked over and opened the refrigerator. On the top shelf were a dozen water bottles in three rows and on the next shelf down was a box of chocolate/protein energy bars. Jeff tore open the box and grabbed two of the bars.

    Back in the lobby, Kevin was sitting on the floor, rubbing the toes of his right foot. He looked up when Jeff approached. “I think I have frostbite on my big toe,” he said, “but I’ll live.”

    “Here,” Jeff said, kneeling. “Hot water.”

    Kevin took the cup and drank. “Oh, man, that hits the spot.”

    “Here again,” Jeff said, grinning and holding up the two energy bars.

    “Holy shit!” Kevin said, grabbing one of the bars. “Where’d you find them?”

    “In the pantry refrigerator. There’s a box of them.”

    They sat together, sipping hot water and devouring the bars. Kevin drained his cup, lay down on the floor, and tucked his knapsack under his head. “It’s a fucking miracle,” he said. “I swear, it felt like that storm was trying to kill us, like it had a mind of its own.” He closed his eyes. “I just need a few minutes.”

    “You rest,” Jeff said, standing. “I’m gonna do a little more exploring.” He stretched his arms to the ceiling and walked back down the right-side corridor. He passed the pantry on his right and stopped. At the far end of the corridor were two steel doors, each with a vertical wire-mesh reinforced window that emitted bluish-white light. He walked the length of the corridor and peered through a window. “What the fuck?’ he whispered. He stepped back and pulled on the handle of the right-side door. He heard a click. To his surprise, the door swung open. He stepped inside and the door closed with another click. He stepped forward. In front of him was an aisle about fifty feet long. On each side were refrigerator-sized cabinets that reached the ceiling. Each cabinet had a glass-paneled door and behind the glass were computer servers stacked on metal racks. The servers had small yellow and white blinking lights and larger blue pulsing lights, adding a surreal tint to the diffuse overhead fluorescent lighting. He placed his hand on one of the glass panels; it was warm to the touch. He put his ear against the panel and heard the hum of the machines.

    He walked slowly down the aisle between the two walls of servers. There was a series of ventilation grates embedded in the floor that pushed cool air into the room and the lights on both sides provided a hypnotic effect. He felt he was being watched. Laughing nervously, he continued to the end of the aisle and stopped in front of another set of doors – these ones glass with stainless steel handles. He peered through the glass into a white room that was dimly lit by wall sconces. In the center of the room was a white podium. He pulled on the right-hand door and again there was a click. He opened the door and stepped inside. The door closed behind him with another click. The air was warmer. He stepped up to the podium. Recessed into the top of the podium was a small blank screen. Next to the screen was a small metal stand with a cigar-shaped stainless-steel cylinder. He tapped the screen and it lit up. He tapped the screen again. He stared for a few moments. “Oh, man,” he said, “I gotta get Kevin.” He turned and walked back to the glass door. He pushed the right one; it didn’t open. He grasped both door handles, braced his legs, and pushed. The doors didn’t budge. He stepped back. “Come on, man,” he said. He had the odd feeling that someone was deciding whether to let him out. A moment later he heard the familiar click. He tentatively pushed the right-side door, and it swung open. He shook his head and started back through the gauntlet of data servers. Halfway down the aisle, he again felt that he was being watched. He turned and looked up. A small black surveillance camera was mounted on the wall above the two glass doors. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Here, capture this!” He gave the camera the middle finger and continued. Behind him, the camera quietly tracked him to the end of the aisle.  

​

    Kevin was asleep on the floor. Jeff kneeled beside him. Slowly, Kevin opened his eyes. He got up on his elbows. “How long were you gone?” he asked.

    Jeff shrugged. “Just a few minutes. How are you feeling?”

    “Much better.” Kevin sat up. “Yeah, I think my core temperature is back up.”

    “Still hungry?”

    “Famished. I could go for a full meal, but hell, I’d settle for some more snack food.”  

    Jeff nodded. “We’ll have to ration what we have but I think we’ve earned another energy bar for now.” He led Kevin to the pantry.

    “Oh, man,” Kevin said as they walked in, “all that’s missing is the oven. He walked over and opened the refrigerator. Turning around, he said, “Dude! You didn’t tell me about this other stuff.”

    Jeff walked over and stared into the refrigerator. In addition to the bottles of water and the box of energy bars, the bottom shelf was stocked with single-serve containers of hummus with pretzels, guacamole, packs of sliced cheddar cheese and a box of crackers. He stepped back. “That stuff wasn’t there before.”

    “It had to have been,” Kevin said. He took out two containers of hummus and handed one to Jeff. “You just didn’t see them.”

    “I swear, nothing was on the bottom shelf,” Jeff said.  

    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kevin said. “Look, when we fell into this place, we were both totally smoked. It’s understandable that      you just missed this other stuff.” He opened his snack, scooped a pretzel into the hummus, and took a bite. “Oh, delicious,” he said, closing his eyes.

    Jeff shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know what to think, but I’m easily convinced.” He opened his container and they ate in    silence. Jeff filled another coffee cup with hot water from the sink, took a drink, and passed the cup to Kevin. “There’s something else you gotta see,” he said. He led Kevin down the corridor to the set of steel doors.

    “What the fuck is this?” Kevin said, peering in through a mesh-reinforced window.  

    “It’s the heart of the beast.” Jeff said. “Those are dozens of A.I. servers in there, figuring shit out.”

    “What kind of shit?” Kevin asked.

    “Who knows, maybe just typical internet stuff, or maybe it’s top-secret DoD. I don’t know. But check it out.” He stepped up to the doors and grasped the right-side door handle. They heard a soft click and Jeff swung open the door. “Pretty cool, huh?” he said with a grin.

    Kevin stared in at the two walls of glowing computer servers. “Something about this doesn’t feel right,” he said.

   Jeff laughed. “Dude, relax. They’re just a bunch of computers. They can’t hurt us. Come on, this is only the opening act.”

   Kevin followed Jeff down the aisle, looking warily to the left and right. “Some serious computing shit,” he said. “Whatever it is, I hope it’s for the best.” Overhead, the security camera tracked them.

    “Okay,” Jeff said as they stepped up to the double glass doors. “This is what I want to show you.” He clasped the handle of the right-side door and pulled. It didn’t budge. “It did this last time,” he said. He pulled on both handles, but the doors stayed fast. He stepped back. “Okay, there must be a light sensor or something that triggers the doors.” He looked up at the ceiling and waved his arms. Kevin gently grasped the left-side door handle and pulled; there was a click, and the door swung open.

    They looked at each other. “You have the magic touch,” Jeff said.

    “I don’t know about this,” Kevin said, looking into the room.

    “Since when did you become such a wuss,” Jeff said. “Come on.” He stepped inside, Kevin reluctantly followed, and the door swung closed behind them with a soft click.

    “Wow, it’s warm in here,” Kevin said.

    “Yeah, like a womb,” Jeff said. “But that’s not why we’re here.” He pointed to the podium. They stepped up to it. Jeff tapped on the screen, and it lit up robin egg blue. A moment later, a message appeared in white letters.

Kevin read aloud: “Complete DNA Ancestry Test.” He looked at Jeff.

    “Look what’s next,” Jeff said.

    Kevin tapped the Next arrow on the screen and another message appeared. He continued reading: “For a complete ancestral analysis of your DNA, place your right index finger inside the tube to your right. You will feel a pinprick on the pad of the top digit of your finger. Do not be alarmed, the system is capturing a single drop of blood that will be used to analyze your DNA. Within minutes, your complete ancestral makeup will be printed on the printer to your left.”

    They both looked over at a black printer on a desktop, its POWER button glowing white. “This place must be some kind of background check organization,” Kevin said.

    “Yeah, maybe the CIA,” Jeff said.

    “I don’t know, man,” Kevin said.

    Jeff sighed. “Come on. An hour ago, we were about to freeze to death. Let’s see what our true heritage is. Who knows, maybe you’re related to Robert the Bruce.”

    Kevin laughed. “Fine, you first. I’m afraid of needles.”

    Jeff stepped up to the podium. He slowly inserted his right-hand index finger into the stainless-steel tube. He felt his finger being gently compressed, as though the device was checking his blood pressure. A moment later, he felt the pinprick. “Ow,” he said, deadpan.

    “Did it hurt?” Kevin asked.

    “I barely felt it.” The compression eased and he withdrew his hand. There was a tiny red dot on the pad of his finger. “Don’t even need a bandage,” he said.

    “I guess I can handle that,” Kevin said. He stepped up to the machine and inserted his index finger. The same process ensued. “Ah!” Kevin said when he felt the pinprick. “I didn’t expect it.” A moment later the cylinder released his finger. “That was too easy,” he said, examining the pin sized red dot on his fingertip.

    Suddenly, the printer on the desktop came to life. It buzzed and shook and spit out three sheets of paper. They walked over. “These must be mine,” Jeff said. He took the papers off the printer tray. The printer buzzed again and spit out another three sheets. Kevin picked them up. They both stared at the top sheet.

    “Oh, my God,” Kevin said.

    “This is a little spooky,” Jeff added.

    “How the fuck does it know our names?” Kevin said. They both started flipping through the pages. “Blood type, geographic origin, lineage going back through generations…that thing knows everything about me.” He turned to his friend. “How can it know so much from a drop of blood?”

    Jeff stared and the pages in his hands. He shook his head and said, “I don’t know.”

    From behind them came a low hum. They both turned and looked back through the glass doors. The yellow and white lights on the stacks of servers were blinking rapidly, and the hum was growing in decibel. Together, they walked up to the doors. Jeff pulled on the right door, and it opened. They stepped into the server room. “It’s loud as a factory,” Kevin said.

    “And those lights are going nuts,” Jeff yelled. They stepped forward and Jeff saw that the security camera was pointing at them. As they proceeded, he saw the camera adjusting to their position. They stopped. The humming increased, the lights flickered crazily for a few moments and then they began to slow and the humming became softer.

    “What the fuck was that all about?” Kevin asked.

    “I don’t know,” Jeff said. “Maybe some routine processing, but I don’t know.”

    “I could use another snack,” Kevin said.

    “Yeah, let’s do it.” They arrived at the steel doors and heard the familiar click. Jeff opened the right-side door, and they proceeded down the corridor toward the lobby. Jeff elbowed Kevin and pointed at another overhead security camera. They walked past it and turned to see it following them.

    “What the fuck is this place?” Kevin asked.

    “I don’t know,” Jeff said. “I just don’t know.”

    Back in the pantry, Jeff tensed as Kevin opened the refrigerator, and he was relieved to see that the selection of food inside hadn’t changed. They each ate a pack of guacamole and went back to the lobby. There were two couches along one wall. “I’m wiped out,” Kevin said, lying on one of the couches.

    “Yeah,” Jeff said. He was standing at the front windows, staring outside into the darkness.

    Kevin propped himself up on an elbow and looked at his friend. “What are you doing?” he asked. Jeff didn’t respond. “Yo, Jeff, let’s get some sleep,” Kevin said. Jeff kept staring through the glass. Kevin stood and walked over. “Hey, Jeff, you’re creeping me out.” He grasped Jeff’s shoulder and Jeff spun around, his eyes wild. Kevin stepped back.

    Jeff shook his head and blinked several times. “Whew, I think I fell asleep standing up.” He rubbed his head. “Had a weird dream, man.”

    “About what?” Kevin asked warily.

    “About my father, of all people. I won’t go into details.”

    “Yeah, okay,” Kevin said. They each lay down on a couch. Kevin eyed Jeff warily, and only when his friend began to snore did Kevin lie back and close his eyes.

​

    Jeff awoke first. Disoriented, he looked around, saw the silhouette of the reception desk, and remembered where he was. He sat up. Shadows pooled in the corners of the lobby, and he heard the faint hum of the data servers behind the steel doors down the corridor. He checked his phone: 1:32 AM. He got up and walked to the main entrance and peered out through a window: the storm was still raging, the windswept snow piling in drifts outside the door. He judged that the windchill was dangerously cold. Good thing we found this place, he thought, and he pictured the two of them, dead and frozen, leaning back against the wall outside, their glazed eyes staring into nothingness. Good thing.

    He turned around, crossed the lobby, and looked down the corridor at the two metal doors at the far end. Lights flashed through the vertical mesh-glass windows. He walked down the corridor, stopped in front of the metal doors, and peered through the left-side window. The tiny lights on the servers were blinking at blurring speed. “What the fuck?” he whispered. He pulled on the door handle. There was a click, and the door opened. He stepped forward and the door closed behind him. The room was warmer than before. He looked up. The security camera was trained on him. The hum of the data servers picked up. He stared at the servers inside one of the glass cabinets, mesmerized. And then the humming began to decelerate, and the flashing of the lights slowed. Within a minute, the room was back to normal. Jeff turned and walked back to the metal doors. There was a click, and the right-side door swung open automatically. He went back to the lobby and walked over to the couch where Kevin lay. “This was all your fault,” he said. Kevin stirred in his sleep. “Your fault!” Jeff shouted.

    Kevin’s eyes opened and he gasped. “Christ, Jeff!” he said, sitting up. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” Jeff only stared. Kevin stood and they faced each other. Kevin smacked his friend sharply across the face.

    Jeff put his hand to his cheek. “Why’d you do that?” he asked.

    “’Cause you were scaring the shit out of me,” Kevin said.

    Jeff sat on the couch. “I don’t know what just happened.”

    “Well, let’s start with ‘why the fuck were you wandering around this creepy place in the middle of the night alone’?”

    Jeff stared. “Do you think it’s creepy?” he asked.

    “You’re damn right. This place creeps the shit out of me, and I don’t need you adding effect.”

    “Maybe you’re right,” Jeff said. He rubbed his hair with both hands. “How about we both get back to sleep and wait the storm out,” he said. He looked at his watch. “It’s 2 AM. The storm’s bound to break by sunrise.”

    “Fine, just don’t get up without me. Stay put.” They both lay back down on the couches. Kevin stared at the ceiling. “I can’t help feeling like…”

    “Like what?”

    “Like we’re not alone in here.”

    “We’re not.”  

    “There you go again, creeping me out.”

    “Sorry,” Jeff said. He pictured the two metal doors down the corridor, the lights flickering in the vertical windows. “It’s just…” He yawned. “Never mind. Let’s get some sleep.”

    “There,” Kevin said. “Now you’re making sense.” He yawned. “And not for nothing, computers do what we tell them to do. We’re the ones in control.” A few minutes later, they were both snoring.  

 

    Kevin awoke and sat upright. He looked around. Jeff was curled up in a fetal position on his couch. Through the windows, the snow was still coming down. He got up and found the Men’s room down the left-side corridor. When he pushed the door open, a wall sensor triggered overhead fluorescent lights. There were two sinks under a plate glass mirror, two urinals, and two stalls. He relieved himself at a urinal, washed his hands, and looked in the mirror. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale. “That was a close one out there,” he whispered to his reflection.

    In the next moment, the overhead lights went out. He stepped back and waved his arms, but the lights did not turn back on. He put his hand in front of his face and saw only black ink. He stepped forward and located the sink. Grasping the faucet, he pictured the layout of the bathroom. “Door is behind me, to the right” he whispered. He turned around. “Door straight ahead, to the right” he whispered again. “I think.”

    From his left came the tap of a stall door closing. He turned and stared into the blackness. He was not alone. He took a step, and he sensed movement on the other side of the bathroom. He stepped again. It was closer. Suddenly, he felt hot breath on his cheek. He screamed and flailed his arms. “Jeff!” He ran forward and hit the wall. He pressed his hands against the tiles, feeling frantically for the door. “Jeff! Jeff!” Something brushed his face. “Get away from me!” he screamed. He sank to the floor. A moment later, the door swung open, and the overhead lights blinked on. Jeff ran over to him.

    “Kevin!” Jeff kneeled beside his friend and embraced him.

    “Oh, my God,” Kevin said. “Oh, oh my God.” He looked wildly around the room. “There was something in here. The lights went black and something touched me.”

    Jeff frowned. “Hey, there’s no one in here. You probably bumped into something.”

    “No! I’m sure of it. I’m telling you something – wait.” They both stood and Kevin stared at the bathroom stalls. “Someone or something was in a stall.”

    “Taking a shit?”

    “I’m fucking serious!”

    “I’m sorry, I know you are.” Jeff walked over to the stalls and opened the doors. “Look,” he said, gesturing with his hand.

    Kevin walked over and looked in both stalls. Empty. In the right-hand stall, there was a length of toilet paper hanging from the dispenser, its edge jagged. He remembered feeling something brush against his face. He turned and scanned the floor “Look!” he said, pointing. Over by the exit door was a crumpled piece of toilet paper.

    “Kevin, it’s just a piece of toilet paper that someone dropped, and the janitor didn’t pick it up.”

    “I’m telling you – something in here touched me.” He looked at his friend with pleading eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.”

    “What are you saying?”

    “We can pack our knapsacks with food from the refrigerator and make a dash for the car.”

    “In the dark, in this storm? That would be suicide.” Jeff grasped Kevin by the shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “let’s go back to the lobby.”

    Kevin placed his hands over his eyes and took several deep breaths. He slowly lowered his hands. “Okay,” he said, ‘you’re right, the lobby’s safe. The lobby is home base.”

    “That’s right,” Jeff said. He put his arm around his friend. “Come on, buddy. Let’s see what else is in the pantry first.”

    “I could go for some hot soup,” Kevin said.

    “Well, I’ll be happy for any food at this point,” Jeff replied.

 

    When they reached the pantry, Jeff eyed the refrigerator warily. He was afraid to open it for fear that there would be more food inside than there was the last time. Kevin saw him. “Okay, now it’s you turn.” he said. He walked over and opened the refrigerator. Stepping aside, he said, “See, just as we left it.”

    Jeff saw the same energy bars, snacks and bottled water. Relieved, he turned and opened a cabinet over the sink. “Well, ain’t it your lucky day,” he said, turning around.

    Kevin looked over. There were several cups of dehydrated soup stacked inside the cabinet.  “That’s weird,” he said quietly.

    “It’s not that weird,” Jeff said. “I admit that refrigerator gives me the willies, but it’s not uncommon for an office pantry to have ready-made soups in stock.”

    “I don’t know,” Kevin said. “But I guess you’re right. Let’s eat.”

    They added water to two cups of chicken noodle soup, heated them in the microwave, and went back to the lobby. Sitting on their couches in the dim light, they ate in silence and stared out the window at the storm.

    “You don’t believe me,” Kevin said.

    Jeff closed his eyes and shook his head. He turned. “Hey, it’s not that I don’t believe what you experienced. But when you say there was someone else in the bathroom…when I came in, it was empty except for you. What am I supposed to think?”

    “Something,” Kevin said quietly.

    “Excuse me?”

    “It wasn’t someone, it wasn’t a person. It was some…thing.”

    “What makes you say that?”

    “I don’t know.” Kevin finished his soup and put the cup and spoon on the table. “But my instincts have never let me down, and I’m telling you I know there was some…it was there and it was close.”

    Jeff was quiet. He finished his soup and glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. We just gotta hang tight until dawn and then we’re out of here.”

    Kevin looked anxiously out the window. “If only the storm would break.”

    “Let’s not drive ourselves nuts thinking about it,” Jeff said. “How about we take a walk around, see what else is in this place. As a team.”

    Kevin pursed his lips together and nodded slowly. “Okay, but we stick together. Always.”

    “Of course, no different than out there,” Jeff said, gesturing to the window.

    Kevin stood. “Let’s take this place to task.”

    “There’s that spirit,” Jeff said. He raised his hand. Kevin hesitated and then gave Jeff a high-five. Together, they turned back into the corridor. They passed the pantry. Straight ahead were the doors to the server room, the two windows glowing like eyes. They quickened their pace. Kevin elbowed Jeff and pointed to a security camera mounted to the wall above the two doors. It was pointed at them. “Keep moving,” Jeff said. They turned left at the server room. Another darkened corridor stretched out in front of them. They continued onward and came to a large conference room on the right with three plate glass windows. They peered through a window. There was a rectangular conference table with six chairs on each side and one on each end. A refrigerator was in the far corner. They looked at each other.

    “Should we check it out?” Kevin asked.

    “Yeah, we have to,” Jeff said.

    They pushed through a glass door. On the far wall was another bank of windows looking out into the snow-filled darkness. The only light in the room came in from the corridor and shadows pooled in the corners. They looked across the room at the refrigerator.

    “What do you think is in it?” Kevin asked.

    “Probably refreshing drinks.”

    “I could go for a beer right now,” Kevin said.

    Jeff laughed. “Yeah? What kind of beer?”

    “A hearty stout, plenty of malt.”

    “That’s the one, plus a bag of Bavarian pretzels.”

    They both laughed. “More likely it’s full of Perrier and string cheese,” Kevin said.

    “Well, one way to find out,” Jeff said. But they didn’t move. They only stared. And then the refrigerator compressor kicked on, emitting a low hum. “Okay,” Jeff said, “there’s got to be food in there.” They both took a step forward, and another, and then they were racing across the room, pushing each other out of the way. They reached the refrigerator and stood, panting and laughing.

    “Who won?” Kevin asked.

    “You did.”

    “Okay,” Kevin said, and he reached out and swung the refrigerator door open. They both stared. “I can’t believe it,” Kevin said.

    “I can’t either,” Jeff said, “but I know what to do about it.” He reached into the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Bavarian Oktoberfest beer. There was a magnetic bottle opener stuck to the top of the refrigerator. He snatched it and moved to open the beer.  

    “Wait,” Kevin said. “Just hold on. When I opened the refrigerator door, what did you see?”

    “I saw six bottles of beer, and now I’m about to drink one.”

    “No, I saw something else.”

    “What” Jeff asked.

    “My mother of all things.” He sat in a chair and put his head in his hands. “I saw my mother when she was still young and healthy.”

    Jeff sat down next to him. “Hey,” he said, “we’ve been through a lot.”

    “Stop with that!” Kevin said. “I know what I saw, and it was her.”

    “I’m not saying you didn’t,” Jeff said. “But I don’t think it had anything to do with what’s in the refrigerator.”

    Kevin shook his head and glanced over through the bank of windows at the dimly lit corridor. “It’s this place, Jeff.”

    “Oh, come on, man. You don’t really believe in that supernatural shit.”

    “I ain’t saying it’s supernatural. I’m saying it’s unnatural.”

    Jeff snorted and popped the cap off the bottle of beer.  Kevin grabbed his arm. “Wait!” he said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that there’s a six-pack of dark beer in the fridge moments after we were wishing for exactly that?”

    Jeff shook off Kevin’s arm. “I think it’s the best coincidence in the world.” He put the bottle to his lips and drank. “Oh, that is good stuff.” He wiped his mouth and extended the bottle to Kevin.

    Kevin slowly shook his head. “I just don’t like it.”

    “For Christ’s sake, Kevin,” Jeff said, taking another gulp. “Look, okay – this place has a weird vibe, agreed. But what do you expect? It’s a vast AI data center completely empty of anyone else in the middle of the night. During a snowstorm to boot. Of course it’s gonna be kinda creepy.”

    “It’s not the place per se, it’s that room.”

    Jeff sighed. “They’re just a bunch of data servers doing what they do - processing data.”

    “Processing our data,” Kevin said.  

    Jeff snorted. “There you go again. Tell you what – take a swig and then we’ll go have a closer look. If it bothers you that much, we can unplug the damn things.”

   “Can you unplug a data server, like you would a computer?”

    “Good question. I have an idea - let’s go find out.” Jeff offered the beer bottle.

    “Fine,” Kevin said. “We share a beer. But man, we need to stay sharp.”

    “I’m with you.”

    Kevin took the bottle and drank. “Okay, that is good.”

    “Now we’re talking,” Jeff said. “You keep that one.” He went to the refrigerator, took out another beer and opened it before Kevin could protest. Jeff drank deeply and looked around. “Okay, maybe there’s something in here that offers a clue.” He walked around the table to a credenza under the corridor-side windows and started pulling out drawers.

    Kevin stared at his bottle of beer. He held it up to the feeble light and whispered, “Jeff’s right, it’s just a beer.” He took another sip.

    From across the room, Jeff opened a drawer and whooped. “You’re not gonna believe this,” he said. “Ready?” Kevin nodded. Jeff reached into the drawer and took out a bag of Bavarian pretzels. Kevin put his beer down on the table. “And that’s not all,” Jeff said. He took out a party-size bag of potato chips, a cannister of Pringles, and a box of crackers, placing each item on the conference table. He sat down, opened the bag of pretzels and chomped on one. “That’s the ticket,” he said, washing down the pretzel with beer. He tossed another pretzel across the room. Kevin caught it and placed it on the conference table next to his bottle of beer.

    “I’m not hungry,” Kevin said.

    “Pringle?” Jeff said as he waved the red cannister.

    “No. No pretzels, no Pringles, no potato chips.” Kevin stood. “Don’t you see? It’s some kind of trap. Every thought we have, every desire, it knows.” He pointed around the room. “The beer in the fridge, the snacks in the drawer, the weird visions. How is it possible?”

    “It’s called coincidence,” Jeff said. “You should think about what you’re saying. You really think there’s some force in this building that is conjuring the physical manifestations of our desires by eavesdropping on our brains?”

    “Well, that’s a flowery way to put it, but yes, I think that’s exactly what is going on here.”

    “Okay, let’s see. I’m craving prime rib, garlic-mashed potatoes, and a Caesar’s salad complemented by a robust glass of red. There – now, let’s go check the pantry, maybe dinner is being served. Oh, and a snowcat waiting out front to bring us back to our car.” Jeff stood and took a long chug of beer.

    “No, man,” Kevin said. “You have to mean it. I could say, ‘hey, I want a pony,’ but I highly doubt there’s a pony waiting for us in the lobby.”

   “That would be pretty cool if there is a pony waiting for us in the lobby,” Jeff said with a chuckle.

Kevin didn’t laugh. He turned and looked out the windows into the night and said, “Christ, I wish we were back home with the wives.”

    Jeff leveled a stare across the conference table. “Hey,” he said. Kevin looked over. Jeff spoke slowly: “I’m sorry. What do you say we keep looking around.”

    “Okay, but we stay together,” Kevin said, standing.

    “Comrades,” Jeff said. He drained his beer and took another pretzel. Kevin left his beer and pretzel on the table. They met at the door and turned back into the darkened corridor. They walked to the end and turned right into another longer corridor. On the right-side was a long bank of windows facing the outside darkness. They stopped and stared at the falling snow. Kevin looked at his watch. “Coming up on 1:30. We still have several hours before dawn. Tell you what - if the storm breaks, I think we can make it.”

    Jeff shook his head. “Tell you what – let’s see if the storm breaks, then we can discuss it.”

    “Okay,” Kevin said. He turned around. “This place is like a maze,” he said. “I think the server room is in the center of the building, and the lobby is obviously in the front, but otherwise it’s one corridor after another. What’s filling up the rest of the building?”

    “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Jeff said. They continued to the end of the corridor and came to a metal door on the left with a circular mesh porthole window. They took turns peering in.

    “What are those things?” Kevin said.

    “They look like cooling units,” Jeff said. “I think they pump cold water to the servers so the servers don’t overheat.”

    Kevin impulsively grabbed the doorknob. “It’s locked.”

    “Just as well,” Jeff said. “Come on.” They reached the end of the corridor and faced another set of steel double-doors painted in white enamel with stainless steel handles. Each door had a vertical mesh-reinforced window. Kevin grabbed a handle and pulled. “Also locked,” he said. They each peered through a window into a dimly lit room with two rows of white desks. There were five desks in each row, each desk with two computer monitors and a black mesh-backed chair with a neck rest. The desks faced two massive monitors mounted side-by-side on the opposite wall. The monitors were in idle mode; expanding and contracting geometric figures floated across the screens. 

    “Damn,” Kevin said, “it looks like the control room for the Starship Enterprise.”

    “Which is pretty much what it is,” Jeff said. “I think this is where they monitor all the servers back there, troubleshooting and shit.”   

    “Ah, so this is where they control the beast.”

    “That’s right, but no one is here, so the beast is probably in idle mode.”

    “Or auto mode,” Kevin said.

    Jeff sighed. “Either way, not much is happening.” Just then, they heard a click. They looked at each other. Jeff slowly grasped the right-side door handle and pulled. The door swung open.

    “I don’t know, man,” Kevin said.

    “Dude, we triggered the sensor. That’s all. It automatically unlocked the door.”

    “Then why the security panel next to the door?” Kevin pointed at a small black box secured to the wall.  

    Jeff glanced at the box. “I don’t know, maybe it’s only activated during business hours.”

    “That makes no sense,” Kevin said.

    “Hey, wait here if you want, but I’m gonna check it out.” Jeff stepped inside and held the door open. Kevin reluctantly walked into the room. Jeff released the door and it closed and latched behind them. On the desk in the center of the second row was a large speakerphone with a keypad. Jeff pulled out a chair and sat down.

    “Don’t get too comfortable,” Kevin said.

    Jeff leaned toward the speakerphone and said, “Captain to crew, prepare to evacuate immediately.”  

    Kevin frowned. “That beer went straight to your head,” he said.

    Jeff laughed. He sat back and looked around. “Man, this is some serious shit.”

    Kevin walked over to a row of wall-mounted cabinets and started opening doors. Inside the second cabinet was a stack of binders. He pulled a binder out, placed it on a desk and read the title aloud: “Machine Learning and Artificial Intelligence, Volume1.” He opened the binder and turned to the first page. “Listen to this,” he said without looking up: “Machine learning in artificial intelligence is coming into form. With today’s advanced algorithms, a data center can process enormous amounts of data, analyze it, and independently make decisions and without being programmed.” He shook his head. “This thing’s got a mind of its own.” He looked up and gasped. Jeff was facing him in the chair, his face cast in shadow but his eyes glowing.

    “Hey,” Kevin said cautiously. “You okay?”

    “There’s no need to read that manual,” Jeff said in a monotone voice. His body twitched slightly.

    “Okay,” Kevin said. He slowly closed the binder. “How about we go back to the lobby?”

    “I’m fine here,” Jeff said. “You go ahead.”

    “Hey, we agreed to stick together, remember?”

    “Each man for himself,” Jeff said.

    “Sure, if that’s what you want.” Kevin said. He picked up the binder. “I’m gonna put this back where it belongs.” He turned toward the cabinets, and then he quickly spun and hurtled the binder at Jeff.

    Jeff threw his arms up to his face. The binder smacked against his arms and hit him in the chest. He shook his head once. “What the fuck?” he said, standing. “Are you trying to kill me?”

    Kevin walked over, eyeing him warily. “You still want to split up? Go our separate ways?”

    “Fuck no. We made a pact.”

    Kevin nodded. “Good, now listen: this place is fucking with you, it’s getting in your head.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “You were just in some kind of trance, acting really weird. You said you wanted to split up – each man for himself.”

    Jeff took the binder off his lap. “Christ, I really said that?”

    “You did.”

    “I need another beer.”

    “No! Do not drink any more beer.”

    “Why not?”

    “I’m telling you, it’s messing with your head. Don’t ask me how. I’m just telling you, don’t drink. We gotta hold tight until daybreak.” Kevin studied his friend, who had the look of a bewildered child.  

    Jeff smiled slyly. “Kevin, I just dozed off. I’m fine.” He picked up the binder and held it up to the light. “I’ve heard of machine language. Amazing stuff.”

    “Pretty scary stuff if you ask me,” Kevin said.

    “There you go again,” Jeff said. He dropped the book on a desk with a loud thwack.

    Kevin stepped back. “Okay. You’re right. I’m probably overreacting.” He faked a yawn. “How about we head back to the lobby, gorge some more.”

    Jeff smiled. “I like it. And get another beer.”

    “Sure, we’ll split another beer. Come on.” Kevin stepped toward the doors.

    Jeff hesitated. He looked around the room. “It’s just so nice in here, you know? It just feels right.”

    “Yeah,” Kevin said, glancing around. “It’s a cool place. Tell you what – let’s grab some food and maybe bring it back and eat it here.”

    “Now you’re talking,” Jeff said with a crazy grin. “Let’s do it.” Together, they walked to the door. “You first,” he said.

    “No, you first,” Kevin said.

    “You first!” Jeff said, giving Kevin a playful shove.

    “Hey, we’re a team. Let’s go together.”

    Jeff nodded excitedly. “On the count of three. Ready? One, two…three!” They both jumped forward and pushed the doors open. Jeff stepped behind Kevin and shoved him through the opening and pulled the doors closed.

    Kevin stumbled as the doors shut behind him. He stepped up to the right-side vertical window. “Come on, Jeff!” he yelled through the mesh-reinforced glass. He pulled on a door handle. It didn’t budge.

    Jeff’s face appeared in the window. “Tricked you, buddy!” he yelled.

    “Yeah, you got me.” Kevin laughed. “Fair and square. But guess what?”

    Jeff frowned and pressed his face against the window. “What?”

    “I get to drink all the beer, sucker!” Kevin turned and ran down the corridor. Behind him, he heard a door open.

    “Oh, no you don’t!” Jeff yelled.

    Kevin sprinted down the corridor. He heard Jeff’s footsteps gaining on him. He rounded the corner and sprinted down another corridor to the conference room. Jeff’s footsteps were right behind him. He entered the conference room, rolled over the conference table and fell to the rug next to the refrigerator. Jeff burst into the room. Kevin jumped up, grabbed the bottle on the table and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and smashed. He opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle and threw it across the room. Glass smashed and dark beer splattered on the wall. He threw another bottle and it smashed against the wall. To his dismay, when he hurled the next bottle, it didn’t break. It fell to the floor with a thump.

    Jeff shrieked, ran over and picked up the bottle. “Nice try, buddy,” he said.

    Kevin shrugged. He picked up the bottle opener from the table. “Come over, let’s open it and have a drink.”

    “Ha, ha, ha,” Jeff said. “Nice try.” He put the edge of the bottle cap against the conference table and popped the cap off with his fist. Beer foamed out through the top. He stuck the bottle in his mouth, titled his head back, and drank. Kevin walked over. Jeff jumped back, holding the bottle tight to his chest. Beer dribbled down his chin.

    “I just want a drink,” Kevin said.

    Jeff looked around the room. “Fine,” he said quietly. He picked up a Styrofoam coffee cup from a sideboard and poured some beer into it. “Here ya go,” he said, placing the cup on the conference table and stepping back.

    Kevin stepped forward and picked up the cup. He drained it and placed it back on the table. “Wow, that is good. How about a little more?”

    Jeff looked warily at Kevin. His eyes gleamed. “Step back,” he said. Kevin took two steps back. Jeff poured more beer into the cup.

    Kevin took the cup and drank. “That is what I call a smooth beer.” He gestured again with the cup.

    “Step back,” Jeff said again. Again, Kevin retreated, and Jeff moved forward and poured more beer into the cup.

    “Come on,” Kevin said. “Don’t be stingy.”

    “Fine,” Jeff said. He poured the rest of the beer into the cup.

    Kevin drained the cup. “Thanks, man.” He took a few steps back.

Jeff looked at the bottle in his hand, Realization dawned on his face. He turned the bottle upside down and watched as a few drops of beer dripped out. “You tricked me!” he shouted. He threw the bottle at Kevin’s head. Kevin ducked and the bottle glanced off the top of his head, hit the window and smashed.

    “You’re fucking nuts!” Kevin shouted. He put his hand to his head and drew back a smear of blood. He raised his hand to Jeff. “Happy now?”

    “Yeah, kind of,” Jeff said.              

    Kevin looked around. Across the room, on the far end of the credenza was a large ceramic vase with dried flowers in it. The shape of the vase was suggestive of a woman’s hourglass figure, and the tapered spout was narrow enough to grip the vase and use it as a weapon. Jeff followed Kevin’s eyes. Kevin half-lunged toward the vase. Jeff dashed for the vase with frightening speed. He grabbed it and spun around. He realized he had been tricked again – Kevin had fled out the door.

    “You motherfucker!” Jeff shrieked. He sprinted out the door. Kevin had turned left and was already at the other end of the corridor. “There’s no escape!” Jeff screamed. He sprinted down the corridor with the vase in hand, turned the corner, and passed the metal doors to the server room and the pantry. When he reached the lobby, he stopped, breathing heavily. The front-entrance doors were partly open. He stared, perplexed. Windblown snow drifted in and fell to the marble floor. He walked over and looked out at the storm, oblivious to the cold. He let go of the vase and didn’t flinch when it broke into several pieces upon impact on the floor. “You’re a dead man out there,” he said. He closed the doors. There was something behind him. Slowly, he turned. On the floor in the middle of the lobby a dog was lying on its side, a small pool of blood beside its head. Jeff walked over. “Panda,” he said, “He knelt on one knee. “Oh, Panda, it wasn’t my fault.”

    “It was your fault,” came a voice from behind him.

    “No,” Jeff said, “I was just a kid.”

    “You were a teenager, son.”

    “Teenagers make mistakes.” Jeff reached out to stroke the animal’s fur but hesitated.

    “Face the truth, son,” said the voice. “You were stoned. You got stoned with those friends of yours and you left the gate open, and Panda went running after her master.”

    “No,” Jeff said, shaking his head.

    “Yes, she ran down the street and crossed that busy intersection and -”

    “No!” Jeff said. He crouched on both knees and covered his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I am so, so sorry.” He heard a soft thumping sound but was afraid to open his eyes. He knew what the sound was and he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, but the thump of the dog’s tail grew louder.

 

    Kevin was crouched inside a small, darkened conference room, tucked back in the shadows, ready to spring if the door opened. He listened for approaching footsteps, but none came. Minutes passed. His eyes adjusted and he saw there was a round conference table with four chairs tucked in. A strange feeling began to settle over him like a shroud. He looked around. The shadows began moving, slowly at first, and then they were darting about the room like dark fish. The top of the conference table started lifting upward like a bubble in a lava lamp. He stared. The bubble rose about three feet and began to expand until the table looked like a giant mushroom. He shook his head and looked again. The shadows had coalesced into a single amorphous mass that hovered over the mushroom. He stared at the mass as it transformed into an image of his mother as he remembered her in her prime. She smiled. He smiled back at her. She kept smiling. “Oh, mom,” he said. Then her face began to transform. He stared as her head changed shape. Suddenly, he was looking at a devil’s head with red eyes and grinning white teeth. Two horns sprouted on top of its head, growing upward and curving toward each other. Kevin squeezed his eyes shut and screamed.

 

    Jeff heard the scream. He opened his eyes and looked up. The lobby was empty. He touched the floor in front of him. It was cold. The scream came again. He jumped up. “Kevin!” Jeff bolted down the corridor. “I’m coming!” he yelled. He reached the end of the corridor and stopped. Silence. He turned the corner and started walking down the next corridor. “Kevin!” he shouted. He listened. There came a faint whimper. He passed a small conference room and heard the whimper again. He spun and flung the door open. “Kevin?”

    “Get away,” came a broken voice in the corner. Jeff flipped the wall switch. Fluorescent lights blinked overhead and lit up the room. Kevin was in the far corner, sitting upright, staring blankly, tears streaming down his face.

    “Kevin!” Jeff rushed over and kneeled. He lightly slapped his friend’s face. “Hey, it’s me,” he said. Kevin slowly turned.    Recognition dawned in his eyes, and he hugged Jeff fiercely.

    “Oh, my God,” Kevin said. “Oh, my God, it happened again.”

    “It’s okay, buddy.” Jeff patted Kevin on the back. “It’s okay.”

    They sat in an awkward embrace, Kevin sobbing uncontrollably. His sobs slowly ebbed. Jeff released him and they both stood. Kevin took a tissue from a box on the credenza and blew his nose. “Get me out of this room,” he said. They walked around the conference table to the door. Jeff reached for the wall switch. “No!” Kevin said. “Leave it on.”

    “Okay, anything you say.” They left the room and went back down the corridor to the lobby. They sat on their respective couches.

    “There’s something in that beer,” Kevin said.

    “I know. Hey, what happened in there?” 

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