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An email from an anonymous person changes Ryan's life forever. |
Ryan filled his bottle at the office cooler with luke-warm water and returned to his desk, stopping at the calendar on the wall to tear off yesterdayâs date. The fresh page read January 01, 2007 in bold letters, with the words New Yearâs Day - Topside in italics underneath the date. The past 24 hours had been a busy shift. New Yearâs Eve parties were a breeding ground for alcohol, drugs, crime, and just about anything impure that one could imagine. Drunk drivers filled the streets, causing not only accidents, but also death, hysteria, and of course, depression. All 24 divisions had been extremely busy, and it was all Ryan could do to keep up with the phone calls and e-mail messages. In the short while it took him to leave his office, grab a maple bar from the cafeteria, and fill his bottle, he had received 18 new e-mails, and 4 new voice messages. Most came from division chiefs, who answered to him directly, but some were from subdivision presidents who either hadnât yet grasped the concept of bureaucratic hierarchy, or were arrogant enough to think they could directly call the Chief Administrative Assistant. Ryan took his maple bar from its bag and began to scan down the list of messages in his inbox. Oh, the perks of being in Upper Management: maple bars and luke-warm water. This is almost other-worldly. He took a bite of his donut. There was a message from Stan, the Chief up in Admissions. Thatâs his tenth message in the past hour. There is nothing I can do about space for new recruits. He should be happy that he has a line two miles long. Itâs called job security. Ryan read on. The next was from Harry, Chief of Topside Activities. This might be important. He clicked on it to open the message. To: Ryan Cc: From: Harry Regan, Division Chief, Topside Activities, North America Recruiting Message: Ryan, Team 451 hasnât reported back from their rounds up at Topside. Can I send a scout team? Let me know ASAP. âHarry Ryan looked at the clock in the corner of his screen. It was only 12:15 AM. For Peteâs sake, Harry. Theyâre only 15 minutes late. Theyâre probably just having some fun. Cut them some slack, itâs Newâs Yearâs Eve. Of course, he couldnât type that. He was the Senior Manager. He had a reputation to uphold--no mercy. He would simply wait on that one. Theyâd probably return in the next 10 minutes and it would be a moot point, anyway. He started scanning the rest of the inbox. One from Julie down in Fire and Brimstone (she probably wants more pyrotechnics); another from Ned over in Defense Attorneys (canât believe that population takes up an entire division!); then something peculiar caught his attention. There was an email with no return address. No way! He clicked on it. His lips moved as he read the message to himself: To: Ryan Cc: From: Message: Hey Ryan, we all hope you grow up to be a decent person. Whatâs this?! And who sent it? Ooohh, this guyâs good! It had to be a prank, he quickly deduced. After all, this was Hades. Nobody grew up to be a decent person. The thing that stumped Ryan (and at the same time impressed him) was that there was no return address. He didnât think that was possible. The return address field was completely blank. No symbols, no letters, no avatars, nothing. The IT guy told him it was impossible for him to receive spam mail, and impossible to receive an untraceable message (You could imagine the people that would want to send him anonymous messages). Whoever was pulling this prank had done his homework. And being the competitive soul that he was, Ryan was going to find out who it was. Of course, he would need some help. He knew just the soul to call. ***** Maggie and Ryan went way back. They had met when they had adjacent cubicles in Admissions, but really got to know each other working in the Depression Division. You see, Depression used to be thought of as a soft division. It wasnât as glamorous or action-packed as Hate Crimes, Drugs, or even the newly created division of Internet Crimes. Once Maggie and Ryan took were given management posts within the division, everything changed. They took that division from worst to first. Under their joint supervision, Depression doubled its recruiting numbers every year for 5 straight years. They still hold the record for most recruits in a month (45,972 back in November 2001), and most in a year (501,776 in 2006). Even The Boss took notice of their workâhe had sent them each an email saying âgood jobâ and copy furnished it to all Hades employees). Soon, all other division began to imitate their recruiting strategies. Ryan and Maggieâs greatest contribution to Hades, however, wasnât the recruiting numbers; it was BOB. BOB was a computer program envisioned by Ryan and written by Maggie. BOB facilitated communication between all 24 Divisions in HadesâNorth America so that they could collaborate in their recruiting work. After all, most recruits werenât one-dimensional. For example, a topsider might start with depression, then move to drugs, then crime, then back to depression. Of course, all divisions had a stake in each recruit, because BOB would award each division that took part in the recruiting a fraction of the number for reporting purposes. That was 25 years ago. Since that time, both Maggie and Ryan had been transferred all over the sprawling cooperation, training junior managers and overhauling entire divisions. Currently, Maggie was held the position of Chief Technology Assistant , and Ryan worked as Senior Manager of North America Recruiting. Ryan smiled as he dialed Maggieâs number. There was no romantic interest, of courseâthis was Hades. He simply enjoyed talking with her. With their busy schedules, opportunities were few and far between. âHey, old buddie,â Maggie answered her phone. âHey Maggie. Howâs it going? Working hard?â Ryan asked. âMore like hardly working. But whatâs the boss going to do, fire me?â They both laughed. Not so much because it was funnyâit was an old joke that they must have repeated ten thousand times; they laughed because it was good to hear each other. âHey, you in your office?â Ryan asked. âSure, come on over,â said Maggie. âBe there in a couple of minutes.â Ryan hung up his phone. Ryan finished his donut as he headed out his door. It would be nice to talk to Maggie. And if anyone could help him catch whomever sent that email, she could. He stopped at the cafeteria, grabbed a Dr. Pepper and a Diet Coke, then walked over to the elevators. Souls didnât need to eat or drink, but upper management was allowed the privilege as a pleasure. The food here was a bit different than Topside food. In fact, the strength of Topside food was so overpowering to a soulâs physical make-up, that all the food in Hades was reduced in size and intensity. Ryanâs Dr. Pepper was only 4 ounces, and it was 99% water. The maple bar he had just finished earlier was about the size of his thumb. Ryan took the elevator down to the 25th floor, then walked across the elevated walkway to the West Wing. He took another elevator down to the 12th floor, and was straightening his tie in the chrome of the door as it slid open. He walked off the elevator into Maggieâs officeâthe entire 12th floor was her office--and glanced around. Maggie was at her desk, talking on the phone. She motioned to Ryan to take a seat at a table in the kitchenette area. He sat down and started fiddling with puzzle pieces as he waited for Maggie. He flipped the pieces over, then over again. They were black on both sides. âInsane, I know,â said Maggie. âThereâs no picture and no right-side-up.â She walked over and sat down next to Ryan. Iâve had it for two years now and Iâve only put seventeen pieces together. Nine hundred and eighty three more to go. Itâs not like I wonât have time to finish it!â They both laughed. It was a sad laugh, though. Ryan and Maggie hated Hades. Well, everyone did, of course, but few talked about it. Maggie was the one soul with which Ryan openly shared his feelings. They had talked for countless hours, sometimes laughing and sometimes crying. Sometimes they fantasized about escaping, each knowing that the other hopelessly yearned that escape might be possible. But they both knew it wasnât. These conversations invariably ended with one or the other (or both) muttering the words ânot a snowballâs chance in hellâ in desperate resignation. Now, conversations like these werenât allowed in Hades. In fact, conversations of any kind that didnât relate to recruiting werenât allowed; but Maggie and Ryan had them under the guise of a closed-door meeting. They would hold day-long meetings, finishing their business in an hour and talking for the remainder of the time. Nobody ever questioned them. Their division was outperforming everyone else, and everyone thought it was because of these brainstorming sessions. Other divisions even copied the strategy, holding day-long retreats that always resulted in simply stealing the latest strategy from the Depression Division anyway. After 25 years together, Ryan and Maggie had said just about all they could. They knew each other intimately, and a laugh or simple gesture could convey a million words. âGood to see you Maggie,â said Ryan. He handed her the Diet Coke. âThanks, good to see you, too.â She smiled. âWhatâs up?â âI gotta e-mail a couple of minutes ago.â Ryan got up and went to her desk. She followed him moved her mouse to wake up her screen, and logged onto his computer. Within seconds she had pulled up his inbox. âThere it is, second to the bottom,â Ryan pointed. âItâs gotta be a prank, but how did they get the address field blank? Your guy told me that was impossible.â Maggie read the words aloud, âHey, Ryan, we all hope you grow up to be a decent person.â She paused. âWell, theoretically, it should be impossible. But you know as well as I how fast weâre growing. Tons of new recruits each day. Topside technology is advancing so fast I can barely keep up. There are a bunch of people down here who are smart. Way better than me.â âOkay. So how do we find the prankster?â Ryan asked. âIt has to be someone who doesnât know you that well. Those that know you stopped trying e-mail pranks years ago. They learned that you and I would discover them within the hour. And payback was worse than Hell.â Maggie quipped. . âRemember Colin down in Fire and Brimstone?â They both started laughing. Two years ago, a friend of theirs in the Fire and Brimstone Division had sent Ryan an e-mail trying to impersonate The Boss. He was trying to scare Ryan into thinking that The Boss was concerned about a slight drop in recruiting numbers. With Maggieâs help, Ryan had full access to Colinâs computer just twenty minutes after Colin had sent his prank. Ryan not only sent Colin a nice virus that wreaked havoc for the next 7 days, but he changed his lunch menu request for that day. Consequently, Colinâs double-cheeseburger contained 10 times the amount of salt that it normally did. A soul can tolerate a bit of salt, but if they ingest too much, they need to drink a bunch of water or risk years of parch-mouth. After just one bite of his Cheeseburger, Colin had needed to drink water continuously for 22 hours straight in order to avoid the parch-mouth. Maggie was right. This prankster had to be somebody new on the block. âHave you offended anyone recently? Who would have a reason to pull something like this on you?â asked Maggie. âBut thatâs just it. Iâve been thinking about the message itself. âHope you grow up to be a decent person.â it said. Iâd have to be a pretty sensitive soul to be offended by a message like that. If someone were to try and get me, why send a message like that?â Ryan asked. Maggie nodded her head as she typed furiously on her keyboard. âSo, youâre thinking it was more like a message, and not a prank?â âBut why not include the return address if it were a message?â Ryan continued. He took a sip from his Dr. Pepper. Then he noticed Maggieâs frown. âWhatâs wrong?â âWell, I just ran about 7 different searches. This is weird. That message didnât come from someone in Hades.â ***** âWeâre going to need some cover,â Maggie said. âWe might be here a while.â Souls were not allowed away from their offices for more than 15 minutes at a time, or forty-five minutes total during a twenty-four hour shift. The consequence for breaking this rule was a 12-hour visit to a Fire and Brimstone Chamber. There were no exceptions to this rule, not even for souls in upper-level management such as Maggie and Ryan. Even though Ryan and Maggie both knew that Fire and Brimstone couldnât kill a soul - nothing could kill a soul - they didnât want a punishment that they could easily avoid. Ryan got up and headed towards the elevator doors. âIâll head back to my office. See you in a few.â âGrab me another Diet Coke on your way back,â Maggie called as the elevator doors opened. âOkay,â he said, âbut, hurry up.â Ryan called back. The elevators doors closed. **** On the way back to his office, Ryan kept thinking about the strange message. No, this is definitely not a practical joke. What joke would be involved in encouraging someone to grow up to be a decent person. Sure, I am a soul condemned to Hadesâthere is a bit of irony in the messageâbut it just doesnât feel like a practical joke. Whereâs the âgotchaâ factor in the message? Ryan walked across the elevated walkway between the two wings of the Administration Building. He passed a group of three souls laughing and pushing each other as they walked along. Each had a unique, but equally hideous face, complete with horns, fangs, and bulging eyes. This group was obviously just returning from a Topside mission. Probably the group that Harry was missing. Looks like they had fun. I canât believe that fleshers actually fall for the masks! Actually, I guess I thought that was what demons looked like when I was a kid flesher. Souls look just like they did in mortality, only kind of like a lighter, weaker version. The teams that went Topside often wore masks to scare fleshers as they were working on recruits. Fleshers is one of the many names souls in Hades have for those still living Topside. Thatâs it! That message came from Topside! Iâve heard rumors of that happening once or twice before. Some gamer, or IT obsessed nerd with a dark side found a way to send a message through our server. But how? If someone down here helped that geek, that soulâs in big trouble. We might have to call Harry in on this one, have him closely monitor his teams to find out where the leak is. . . Ryan turned the corner into the hallway that led to his office. He looked up just in time to avoid bumping into a soul coming the other way. âExcuse me,â said Ryan. Then his heart jumped a beat as he registered who he faced. âOh, Hi Boss!â, he tried to sound casual. **** âYou have a problem,â whined the soul that looked up at Ryan. âShall we talk?â âSure, would you like to step into my office?â Ryan thought he was doing a pretty good job at disguising his hatred for his boss. âYes, letâs.â came the whining voice. As the door shut behind them, the whining voice began: âWe can do this the easy way, or the hard way. For your sake, I hope you choose the easy way.â Ryan had nothing to hide. âIâm guessing you are here about a recent email I received. I was just returning from the IT department trying to discover who sent it. Weâre stumped at the moment, but we are working on it.â The short guest looked at Ryan, appearing somewhat surprised at Ryanâs words. Ryan caught the look in his bossâs eyes. He believes me and heâs surprised that I told him the truth. For some reason, he thinks I would want to cover this up. Ryan did his best to smile at his boss. His boss gave him a condescending smirk. âIâm not stupid, Ryan. I know this email did not come from inside Hades.â If I am careful I might be able to learn something here. âWe figured that much outâI mean, we suspected that,â said Ryan. âBut we havenât figured out who sent it from Topside, and where the leak isâif there is one.â His boss looked him up and down. Ryan took a sip of the Dr. Pepper he was holding. He thought that since I was on the receiving end I was somehow involved. He thinks Iâm the leak! Man, this soul hates me! Well, he hates everyone, I suppose. Except himself. The shorter soul stood up and made for the door, turning to speak as he left. âThis wonât go all the way to top this timeâat least not right now,â he sneered. âThe Boss might think itâs too trivialâ but Iâll be watching you. Once might be a coincidence. But if you receive just one more email from Topside, EVER, youâll get at least a decade in F and B. Your recruiting numbers wonât be able to save you forever.â With that, the soul walked out of the office. Ryan was glad that was over. He hated his boss. Just then, Ryan heard a âbeepâ signaling an e-mail message from someone on his high priority list. Thatâll be from Maggie. To: All Upper Management Cc: HQ Staff, Senior Executives Re: New Software Training Message: At The Bossâs request, IT has updated our software to include many new features that will assist us in our efforts with potential recruits. Due to the sensitive and confidential nature of this new bundle, all Division Chiefs, Vice Presidents, and HQ Staff are required to personally pick up the software from the IT department, at which time they will be given training, passwords, and (of course) a quiz! You have been assigned a time to pick up your software. This should take approximately 30 minutes. IT has received clearance that this time not be deducted from your allotted free time. (Donations in Diet Coke or Snickerâs Minis are accepted at time of trainingâthis will help your quiz score). Attached, you will find the training schedule. Failure to be punctual will result in deduction of allotted free time. âMargaret Crimble, Chief Technology Assistant Ryan loved Maggieâs sense of humor. She was one of the few who could get away itâshe was in IT. He opened the attachment and saw that he was scheduled to meet with her in 3 hours time. She scheduled all upper management and she scheduled me sixth on the list. Brilliant. Nobody can accuse us of a private meeting. And that gives her more time to track down the flesher who sent me that note (not that sheâll need that much time). He decided that he wouldnât wait the three hours to find out the sender. He might as well try to find the flesher himself. Maggie would be impressed if I did. He logged onto the Topside internet. But where should he look? If I were a nerd with a death wish, where would I go? He went to AskJeeves and typed in the words: how can I send an email to hell? This wasnât quite the same way Maggie would search, but it was worth a try. Plus, it might be fun. The results fell into two categories: Christian websites filled with info about how to protect your child on the internet, and a bunch of devil-worshipping websites. Those Topsiders are so clueless. If they only knew what they were asking for. After thirty minutes of searching that led nowhere, he decided to quit. Then he heard the familiar beep again. Maggie probably found âem. As his page refreshed, however, Ryan was surprised to see that the new message was not from Maggie. It was from another one with no return address. Oh Crap! The boss will kill me! Ryanâs hands raced across the keys as he typed. He quickly forwarded the email to his boss: Fwd To: Mitchell James Senior Vice President, Recruiting in Topside North America Hades To: Ryan Cc: From: Message: Hey Ryan, we all hope you grow up to be a decent person. Esteemed Mr. Mitchell James. I just received the above message. I assure you I have no idea who this came from and I am in no way involved, other than being the unfortunate soul to be on the receiving end. The IT department is continuing to investigate. I will keep you informed. Sincerely, Ryan Margonis, Senior Manager, North America Recruiting He figured this would be the only way to possibly avoid any punishment. His boss would be able to see that he forwarded the email as soon as he received it. If this didnât convince his boss that he wasnât involved, nothing would. He decided to take one more precaution. He turned off his computer. **** Some time later, Ryan made his way back to Maggieâs office. âI noticed you got another one,â she said as soon as he walked in. âGood call on forwarding it to Mitchell right away.â âYeah well. I havenât heard from him. I donât know if thatâs a good sign or not.â Ryan sat down at Maggieâs desk. âWhat did you find?â Maggie leaned forward in her chair. âYouâre not going to believe this, Ryan.â âWhat?â he asked. âI think that message is your snowball,â said Maggie. Ryan crinkled his brow, confused for a moment. Then it hit him. âIt was from my Grandma.â he whispered. The ensuing flood of thoughts overwhelmed him. Why would Grandma send me an email? How could Grandma send me an email? Why didnât she say who it was from? I canât believe this! Though he couldnât explain exactly how he knew, he was certain it came from his grandma. Then a second wave hit him, much larger than the first. It began as a small physical sensation in his mind. He could feel the sensation, observing that this sensation triggered an emotion that began to swell in his heart. He hadnât felt like this for a long time. When did he last feel like this? Memories flashed through his mind as he searched back through time for this elusive feeling. He remembered the night he diedâhe was only 17 years old. He remembered his grandmaâs funeral the year before his. He went back further. Junior year. Sophomore year. Freshman year. All depressing times. His mind began to center on place: his grandmotherâs house. He pictured himself in her kitchen, playing Scrabble with her at the kitchen table. That was the last time he had visited her before her illness. Things had started going bad, and he had felt pretty frustrated with life. She had a way of cheering him up, though. He felt good around her. He felt. . .hope. That was it. That was what he was feeling. Hope. He looked up at Maggie and saw a tear in her eye. Only then did he realize that he had been crying. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the elevator door beeped. Ryan and Maggie both looked up to see who it was. Maggie switched on her elevator camera to see who it was. âThereâs still 15 minutes left before anyone should have clearance toââ she stopped. âOh, I see,â she said as she handed Ryan a tissue and pushed a button on her keyboard. The elevator door opened, and in stepped Mitchell. **** Ryan stood up, deciding to be the first to speak. âI trust you got the email I sent,â said Ryan. âI turned my computer off right after I forwarded it to you.â âYes, I got it.â Mitchell came and stood in front of Ryan. âBut I think you forgot to send the whole thing.â Ryan thought quickly. I need to be careful. âI forwarded it exactly as I received it,â he said. He realized that if Mitchell was on top of this, everything could fall apart. âYou expect me to believe that somebody Topside sent you an email. Twice. Within the same hour. And didnât bother to include any message?â Ryan felt a glimmer of hope. Somehow, he must not of got the body of the message! âI know, thatâs pretty weird. Perhaps the Topsider hasnât completely hacked through the system. Maybe the messages are getting lost on the way or blocked out somehow.â Mitchell just stared at him, then at Maggie. âAnd Iâm sure you have nothing to with this, Missy!â he sneered. Maggie glared at him. âI have no more to do with the problem than you do, sir. But I bet Iâll have a lot more to do with the solution than you. Iâll find the hacker before you or anyone else.â âWell, that is your job,â retorted Mitchell. Ryan knew Mitchell was out to get them, and he knew Mitchell suspected them of foul play. He also knew Mitchell couldnât prove anything. All the facts were wide open, and Ryan and Maggie were too valuable to The Boss. âIâll be watching you two,â Mitchell snapped as he turned and left. Ryan and Maggie looked at each other as the elevator door closed. They each took a deep breath. Maggie got up from her chair and handed Ryan a package. âHereâs the training and the passwords. Youâll get a B on your quiz. Weâll keep in touch.â Ryan took the package and headed for the elevator. He turned around just before he got there. âSheâll get us out of here, Maggie. I know it.â *** |