Everyone in the office had been acting extremely strange since the new floor manager had been appointed. Why, Jasmine couldn’t tell, but she just knew that people were starting to just be… off. Some of the watercooler conversations had shifter from silly matters, silly gossip or interesting facts, into talks about productivity and work. Always about work. Whatever happened to the absolute hatred for the call center? Jasmine could just not understand why most, if not all by now, of her colleagues found themselves loving the call center now.
But, one day, she got to work early and the new manager came to her. He smiled broadly and before she could say anything he had a pendant in front of her eyes. It swung, it caught the light, and nothing but the pendant existed.
“You love to work here.” Were the last words Jasmine heard before the darkness took her.
She was aware of her fingers on the keyboard. She was aware of the seat under her. She was aware of her voice speaking monotone lines of text that hadn’t been there yesterday. She was aware that nothing mattered but working. Nothing mattered but following the script and working and making the clients happy. She was a call center drone, and she worked and worked and worked.
Jasmine came to her senses when she returned home. She couldn’t remember the day, but knew that something had been done to her; but trying to grasp it was like trying to trap water with a net. Eventually she tired and went to sleep.
In the morning she dressed, put on her uniform, the one her new boss had suggested, and went to the office.
When she got there she didn’t talk to anyone as it was customary; she went straight to her station, stripped her disguise and, in her new uniform, in her new obedience, she sat down and her mind began to run the program installed into it.
Jasmine had been the last one. Now, the call center was completely automated. Everyone in it was a uniformed drone.
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