Story #142 - Level Rufus

Level Rufus

He was only one bubble away from leveling up.

Checking his daytimer, Rufus admitted to himself that it was closer to one and a half bubbles, but that was merely a drop in the bucket. He'd been working on level 68 for over a year, and would be glad when it finally passed into his history.

It had taken him the better part of five years to get used to the new way of doing things. Capitalism had been nearly crushed in the early part of the decade, but then came roaring back after the mass rioting under Western Communist leaders. After having “saved” the people of the free West, any initiative the new government pushed for was easily accepted, and the Leveling Laws were quickly adopted.

Rufus tucked the pocket watch he'd been given on his thirtieth birthday into his suit pocket. He'd never say the term out loud, and he wasn't supposed to have any mementos from when time and status were calculated purely on physical age. He was old enough to remember birthday parties and the fear of growing old; now, men and women worried only about their levels and how they could most quickly advance.

Age was a “relatively meaningless number in terms of productivity,” according to the the government line, and the only real measure of humankind's ability to function in the world lay in the work they could deliver on a consistent basis. Rufus had three managers at work ten levels higher than he was, and all at least half his age. No one would dare question them; the number plates on their chests made them all but untouchable, but fortunately the government hadn't yet seen fit to invade his thoughts.

One last check in the mirror and he was ready to go. With any luck, the meeting today would push him over the last bubble and a half, and he could be that much closer to breaking out of the sixties. Aside from a bigger office and more time off each year, the seventies let him structure his workday however he wanted, and at seventy-five, he had the choice to work from home three days a week.

That was saying nothing of the levels benefit in society at large. First in line at grocery marts, best seat in the house at plays or movies; his level would do more for him than simply garner respect from his colleagues.

His transit ride to work was smooth as always; the city rail system wouldn't employ anyone lower than fifty, and that meant they were both competent and reliable. It was only Alfie, slumped by the front door of his office, that gave him pause.

For as long as the government had been in power, Alfie had sat by the door each morning, hat on his lap and hair matted across his pocked forehead. He could speak well enough when he chose to, but most times resigned himself to receiving whatever money was thrown his way. It was the badge on his right breast – filthy and tattered instead of shining like the one Rufus wore – that told the real tale. A large, red number one glowed across it, and was forever straining toward the top of the digital device. Levels lower than one were impossible, but Alfie's complete lack of drive and movement meant that his level detector was trying to place him in the right category, which would be to have no level at all.

Rufus didn't throw him any money. Ultimately, Alfie was the state's responsibility.

***

The meeting had gone just as he hoped. Eastern buyers, impressed by his presentation and data, had agreed to a massive order, one far higher than even his best estimates had suggested. Both of his direct supervisors had been all smiles when the meeting was over, and now he'd been summoned to the office they shared. The “Eights”, as they were known around the office, were a pair of twins that had been climbing the corporate ladder together for years. In physical terms, they were less than half Rufus's age, but showed a maturity that most in the company couldn't match. Their leadership, boldness and quick thinking had helped advance the company's brand in the marketplace, and they'd been promoted accordingly.

He'd had very little interaction with either of the Eights – Eric and Katherine – but chance meetings in the hallway had been cordial, and thanks to the strength of his performance in his daily work, they'd come to know his name.

“Come in, Rufus,” Eric said, and Katherine continued.

“Shut the door.”

Both were slender and red-haired, but lacked the temper he had always heard about in people with that coloring.

“Please,” they said in unison, “sit down.”

He did, silently, and they watched him from across their large and communal oak desk. They were the only ones in the office with a real wood product, and it was well-guarded and highly polished. They were the Eights. They deserved it.

“We are pleased,” Katherine said, “with your performance in the meeting.”

Rufus nodded, but held his tongue. A sixty-eight could speak to an – he looked more closely at their badges – eighty-nine, but it was better to let them say what they needed to first.

“Yes,” Eric picked up, “we had not foreseen such substantial gains.”

There was a small pause, and their faces darkened just a shade. “The meeting was such a success that its experience quotient is quite high,” Katherine said.

“Enough to push both of us over the ninety mark,” Eric finished.

Rufus was stunned. This had been his meeting, from the very beginning. He had pushed for it, fought for it, and delivered tenfold on all of his promises. “And for me?” He asked quietly.

Eric shifted slightly in his seat. “In order to push us over the threshold, we will have to be seen to be overcoming the incompetency of an employee. A high-ranking employee.”

“You will be de-leveled, Rufus,” Katherine went on. “To fifty-five. With our new positions, we should be able to expedite your return to your present level. Perhaps in...” she glanced at Eric, “four years?” Eric nodded.

There was a wrenching at his breast as the level badge activated, dropping him thirteen stages in a matter of seconds. The Eights must have given him permission to leave, as he found himself out in the hallway, wandering toward his office.

What had been his office.

Out the window he could see sunshine, and the thin form of Alfie waving as workers came back from lunch. More than a few threw money his way, and Rufus could make out a grin on the man's face.

He made a quick turn and headed for the elevator. Perhaps there was another way.

- D