Work Text:
You know, my mother was an atheist. She used to say that there was good news and bad news about hell. The good news is, hell is just the product of a morbid human imagination. The bad news is, whatever humans can imagine, they can usually create. (Harmony Cobel, Good News About Hell)
*****
They rode the elevator up in complete silence. Harmony's heart was pounding enough for all three of them. Kier gives, Kier takes away, but surely it was her time to be rewarded. (Then why was she so scared? She was getting what she wanted. What she earned.)
They stood before Drummond and Natalie and the crackling speaker connected directly to the hearts of the Board. Harmony explained, sharing the speech she'd been practicing. She knew what the severed floor needed. She knew everything about Mark, who was so close to completing Cold Harbor. She had held the soft head of Mark's new niece in her hands. Milchick had betrayed her, had made her look stupid and weak. The overtime contingency that stalled all progress was his idea, his mistake.
Harmony had expected that Helena would join the others on the opposite side of the table, but she stayed close. The bodyguard lurked in the corner by the door. Helena's fingers ghosted along the small of Harmony's back, and she chose to see it as an Eagan showing faith in her. Helena was propping her up. Helena agreed with her. Helena's fingertips were cold; she slipped them under Harmony's shirt to touch her skin. Harmony managed, barely, not to shiver.
Finally she ran out of words. Drummond nodded. Natalie smiled. There was a susurration, a whisper, a faraway scream through the speaker. Natalie nodded, beamed at Harmony.
"There's been a great miscarriage of justice," Natalie said, finger at her earpiece as she listened. "The Board agrees."
Relief flooded through Harmony, although she did her best not to show it. The Board didn't need her groveling. They needed results.
"I know exactly what to do with you," Helena said, pressing a sharp fingernail into Harmony's skin, and the ghost of her touch lingered on Harmony's body as she took the elevator down.
*
Harmony's chip had been disabled in the system when she was promoted to management. She hadn't thought about her innie in a long time. Her innie was a means to an end, an experiment that came to a satisfactory conclusion. Harmony C. was pleasant, dedicated, and well-liked by her coworkers, or so Harmony Cobel assumed, based on the data she'd gathered. Her success, inside and out, brought her here to run the severed floor, where Macrodata Refinement made their quota regularly and Optics and Design built truths and all of the departments completed their particular obligations under her watchful gaze. She was certain.
She was certain of it all until Helena Eagan came to the severed floor. Harmony had no doubts at all, and then Helly was undisciplined, wild-eyed, self-destructive, uncooperative. Helly was a bomb in the middle of Harmony's life.
Where was Kier in this spoiled stub of a human being? This hateful rebel? This false and feral creature?
How could she trust her legacy to Helly R.? Harmony understood that the innies weren't quite real, that they needed her exacting care and firm discipline, but she saw Mark S. and Mark Scout often, and of course there were commonalities. Mark S. was not beaten down by Mark Scout's grief, but both of them were patient, and lonely. Something of the heart remained, even if it was inaccessible when the chip was active.
If Helly R. existed in Helena somewhere, how could she ever trust Helena?
But how could she walk away when Lumon was so close to their grandest achievement since severance? She had to go back.
*
The night before she returned to Lumon, riding the high of her successful negotiation, Harmony reassembled her shrine in the dingy motel room she had been staying in since her entire existence went off the rails. She'd gathered it all back up after her temper had faded, although some of her treasures were damaged now. She placed her thumb in the dent on the head of Malice, regretfully, carefully arranged the framed photo amidst the rest of her things, and made sure to add her mother's bracelet, so she could continue to intercede on Harmony's behalf with Kier. Her shrine didn't look like much, stacked together on the round, pressed wood table under the motel window, but it was hers. She lit three tealights. She meditated on the Core Principles until the candles burned out.
She thought about Helena then, in the light of the moon through the dirty curtains. She imagined Helena in pieces. Helena was beautiful in a way that Helly was not -- she was confident and thoughtful, sparkling, effusive. She had a way of looking at someone as if just the two of them were sharing a secret.
She took Helena's eyes to bed with her, dreaming of the hot press of her mouth. Harmony would get it right this time, and when she did, Helly R. would die, and Harmony would never have to think about that creature again.
Harmony would have her reward, if she was faithful. She arrived at Lumon bright and early the next morning, ready to get back on course.
*
When Harmony stepped off the elevator, she was confused. Yesterday she'd gone before the Board (before Eileen and her headset and the crackling, keening speaker) and Eileen congratulated her on her promotion to management. Harmony was sure that they'd talked about disabling her chip, but here she was again, starting her day.
But this didn't look like her usual floor. Something was off. The paintings were changed, perhaps, or the plants. She had only a moment to consider before a young woman appeared through the doorway. The woman had long dark hair and an empty smile.
"Please come with me, Harmony C.," she said pleasantly, and Harmony followed her to an office. The woman gestured for Harmony to go through the door, but did not follow her inside.
Harmony looked around. The office reminded her of her boss's office, which seemed appropriate, if this would be her new space. There was a red-headed woman sitting behind the desk, however.
"Harmony," the woman said. "Welcome back to Lumon."
"Welcome... back?"
"Oh, of course you don't realize!" The woman was wearing dark red lipstick that contrasted with her incredibly white teeth. "I understand that you spoke with the Board and asked to come back to the severed floor. They were happy to grant your request."
Harmony did not remember this. Of course, she wouldn't, not if her outie made the request.
"Your old position is no longer open, however," the woman continued. "So you'll be working for me."
She rose and came around from the other side of the desk, offering a hand. "Hello. I'm Ms. Eagan," she said. Astonished, Harmony held out her hand in return, but Ms. Eagan pulled her forward, off-balance, into a hug. Ms. Eagan ran a hand down Harmony's spine, stopping just above her ass.
Harmony C. had returned to the severed division to work directly for an Eagan! No wonder her outie had jumped at the opportunity. This was better than being a manager. This was like joining the inner circle.
Ms. Eagan released her, but not without squeezing her shoulder first.
"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the floor. There was no other chair in this room, besides the one that Ms. Eagan had been using. Harmony watched as Ms. Eagan returned to her seat, confused. She looked back toward the door, but her guide had shut it as she left.
"Please, sit," Ms. Eagan said again, her face aglow in the reflected light from her terminal. Carefully, Harmony eased herself onto her knees, trying to keep her back straight.
"Lovely," Ms. Eagan said.
It didn't take long before Harmony's knees began aching, and then throbbing. Her calves and thighs burned. Ms. Eagan was typing, keyboard clattering, and she ignored the small sounds of discomfort that Harmony couldn't repress.
Harmony shut her eyes and repeated the compunction statement over and over in her head. Of course, she had been disciplined before, but never in her boss's office. She wasn't sure what she'd done to earn this oddly personal attention on her first day back. Perhaps this was a test. Perhaps the other woman would return soon and show Harmony to her new workstation and ergonomic rolling chair.
She didn't know how long she lasted, but eventually her body gave in and she slid off her knees and onto the floor, twisting sideways to relieve the pressure. She was weeping, quietly, into the office-quality carpeting. Her legs wouldn't support her, and her arms were shaky.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Harmony," Ms. Eagan said. She rose from her desk and walked around Harmony to the door. She opened it and then shut it behind her.
Her skin prickled horribly as the circulation returned. Eventually Harmony was able to pull herself to her feet. She went to the door, and opened it, but no one was there.
This definitely wasn't her old floor. She walked around for a while on aching legs, but she never found anyone else -- empty cubicles, a deserted break room, miles and miles of winding halls. She'd had a keycard when she'd left, before, but no one had given her a new one, so she couldn't get in the elevator.
Harmony shut her eyes and breathed deeply.
*
Harmony C. opened her eyes. She was standing in front of the elevator. She tried to remember her way to Ms. Eagan's office. When she arrived, Ms. Eagan smiled at her.
"You can sit at your desk," she said. There was a little desk now just outside Ms. Eagan's office. Harmony sat in the matching office chair, gratefully. But there was no terminal on the desk, and when she opened the drawers, they were all empty.
Well, Ms. Eagan would give her instructions. She waited.
She waited and waited and waited.
*
Harmony opened her eyes, and then she went to Ms. Eagan's office. She sat at her empty desk.
*
Harmony opened her eyes, and then she went to Ms. Eagan's office. She sat at her empty desk. Ms. Eagan got up from her desk and came to the door of her office. She smiled at Harmony, and then she shut the door.
*
Harmony opened her eyes, and then she went to Ms. Eagan's office.
*
This was a test of her loyalty and devotion.
Of course she could wait. Of course. She would be here when Ms. Eagan needed her. She wanted nothing more than to serve Kier.
Some days, Ms. Eagan touched her in passing -- she grabbed Harmony's wrist, or placed a hand flat on the small of Harmony's back, or brushed a dry kiss to her cheek. Those were the best days.
*
Harmony opened her eyes, and then she went to Ms. Eagan's office.
"Come sit," Ms. Eagan said, and she gestured for Harmony to join her behind her desk. Then she pointed at the kneehole, the empty space that she pushed her chair into when she left the office each day. Awkwardly, Harmony scrambled into it.
Ms. Eagan sat in her chair and scooted it forward, but she left space for Harmony. She reached down and tangled a hand in Harmony's hair, pulling her forward so that Harmony's chin rested on Ms. Eagan's knee.
Harmony inhaled. She could smell Ms. Eagan's perfume. Some women dabbed it behind their knees. She wasn't sure how she knew this. Perhaps her outie did it too. The smell was thick in her throat, the wet salt scent of an ocean she'd never seen. Ms. Eagan was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knee. Her skin was very soft against Harmony's neck.
A woman whom Ms. Eagan greeted as Natalie came into the room. She handled the Board's speaker with proper reverence. Harmony listened in silence as the Board spoke. She watched as odd shadows crept into the room, darkness roiling in and making the fluorescents weak, the filing cabinets unfamiliar -- the hallmark of the Board's close attention. Ms. Eagan responded, her hands still harsh in Harmony's hair. It hurt beautifully.
*
After that, Harmony attended all of Ms. Eagan's meetings, crouched in the kneehole. Ms. Eagan brought her a pillow to rest on, with a perfectly white pillowcase that had the Lumon logo embroidered in one corner. Still, Harmony's pantyhose were starting to run. She'd realized that she must be full-time inside now, because she was wearing the same clothes each day she woke (she assumed these were each different days; Ms. Eagan's outfits changed). She washed her underthings in the sink after Ms. Eagan left for the day, but there was little to do with the delicate hosiery, so eventually she started going without. Ms. Eagan seemed to approve, pressing her own silky ankle against Harmony's bare calves. Eventually she gave Harmony other clothes to wear, simple pieces in deep blues and greens, like Ms. Eagan's own wardrobe. Ms. Eagan was shaping her in her image.
Harmony listened as Natalie plugged in the speaker again, adjusting it carefully on the desk. There was static for a moment, and then the edge of a voice that Harmony didn't understand.
"The Board would like to confirm that the issue of Ms. Cobel has been resolved, Ms. Eagan," Natalie said.
"Yes," Ms. Eagan said. "Mr. Milchick is managing well. We expect file completion within a matter of days. They didn't need Helly R. at all, it seems."
"We will check in again soon," Natalie said.
"Of course," Ms. Eagan said.
*
Harmony opened her eyes, and then blinked. She was sitting at her desk outside Ms. Eagan's office. Something felt wrong; her mouth tasted metallic. The overhead lights shuddered, and then all turned red.
"Please remain calm," a voice said through the public address system. "Please remain calm and wait for further instructions."
Harmony rose from her desk and went to Ms. Eagan's door, but Ms. Eagan wasn't here. Ms. Eagan was always here when Harmony first started her day. Her absence was worrying. She tried to regulate her breathing as instructed. There were instructions in the emergency procedures binder for evacuation, but she hadn't been instructed to evacuate yet.
"Please remain calm," the voice repeated in the same calm tone. Harmony thought it was probably a recording. She thought about the emergency guidelines. She should gather her things, but that she didn't have any except for whatever was in her locker, above. She should prepare for physical activity, such as descending stairs, so she made sure her shoes were secure on her feet. That was the best she could do -- she had no alternative to her sensible heels. She should line up with the rest of her department, but there was no one to line up with. She sat back down at her desk.
The lights cycled, plunging her into darkness for a long moment, and then the standard white lights, and then blood red again. The public address system warning cut off mid-word with a sharp screech of interference.
Was that interference, or was it a person screaming? The hairs rose on the back of Harmony's neck. She went into Ms. Eagan's office. The terminal was dormant. Nothing looked unusual about the room, except that it was lit in lurid red.
She rushed forward and pulled her pillow from underneath the desk. She left the office and shut the door behind her carefully. Holding her pillow to her stomach, she walked carefully through the halls until she reached the elevator. She had no keycard to activate it.
But then there was a familiar dinging sound, and a strange man stumbled out of the elevator, breathing hard and looking around. Harmony took a step back in surprise. She hadn't seen anyone else on this floor besides Ms. Eagan and Natalie in a very long time, but of course there were other employees. They were just serving on different floors or in different departments.
"Ms. Cobel?" the man said, squinting at her. He was tall and broad, with glasses that threatened to slip down his face. He was wearing a suit and he had a keycard around his neck, but she couldn't tell what color it was due to the hazard lighting.
"What the fuck? What the flying fuck?" the man said. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you here to help with the emergency?" Harmony asked. She was surprised that the security staff would be so unprofessional, but perhaps the emergency was worse than she realized.
"I am the emergency," he responded, and Harmony took a step back. "Do you -- do you really not recognize me?"
"I work for Ms. Eagan," Harmony responded. She wished Ms. Eagan were here. "Is she all right?"
The man laughed. "Probably not. Having a real bad day. We thought they fired you."
"I don't remember being fired," Harmony answered. The name he'd used was familiar -- she was sure she'd heard it before. But how would he know that name, if it was hers? Last names were for management and executives. And when had she heard it?
He reached out toward her, and she wanted to take another step back, still unsure about what was going on, but all he did was touch the edge of her pillow.
"It's soft," he said. She clutched it tighter.
"Yes," she said helplessly.
"Okay, okay," he said, under his breath as if to himself. "I think -- I think I'd better tell Mark you're here. Okay? You just stay here until I come back."
"I don't have a keycard," she said. "Is there really an emergency?"
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Just stay put."
Before she could argue, he stepped back into the elevator and left her there.
*
No one came for a long time. Harmony curled up in one of the armchairs in the elevator lobby and used her pillow to rest her head. Eventually someone was shaking her awake.
"Harmony?" the person was saying. His voice was gentle, but it was still startling to see another person again. At some point the lights had gone out again; now there was only track lighting, glowing at feet level. This wasn't the same man as before -- he was thinner, Black, and wearing a management keycard.
"I'm sorry!" she said. She hadn't meant to fall asleep -- she was just waiting for the other man or his collaborator Mark to come back. Or for Ms. Eagan to come back and tell her everything was okay now.
This man smiled. "It's all right. But I need you to come with me."
"Is Ms. Eagan all right?" Harmony asked. The man's grip was firm on her forearm and he tugged her to her feet.
"I have no doubt," he said. He led her confidently through the hallways, despite the dimness. Suddenly, they were standing outside the door to the stairwell.
"Please proceed," he said, gesturing at the door.
"You're making me leave?"
Harmony looked at the door. Her outie was out there, in a manner of speaking. Her other life that she couldn't remember. She knew she hadn't been outside in a while. What was out there for her now? Some of her department had speculated on occasion, back when she had worked maintaining the Perpetuity wing, but she never had. It had felt disloyal.
"I'll keep this for you," he said, snatching the pillow from her hands. "Now, go on."
"Will you put it back?" she asked. "Under Ms. Eagan's desk? She'll be upset if I lose it."
The man blinked twice, and then nodded. "Don't worry, Harmony."
She put her hand on the door.
*
Harmony Cobel stumbled through the door onto the back stairwell at the office. The stairs were thick with darkness, pooling in every corner. The stairs were desolate and deserted, and she could see nighttime through the windows.
The last thing she remembered was stepping onto the elevator to return to the severed floor that morning. If it had been that morning. But if it had been this morning, whose clothes were these? Harmony didn't recognize this skirt. She could feel the wear in her shoes. She began running up the stairs with little regard for her safety, grabbing at the hand-rail to stop from falling as needed. She could hear sirens wailing as they came closer.
No one at Lumon ever called the police. They took care of their own. She missed a step and twisted her ankle, crying out in surprise and sudden pain. She got back up and kept moving, as her lungs burned and tears slid down her face.
She shouldn't have trusted Helena. Lumon was rotting from the inside, if Helena was at the helm. She'd given everything to them -- everything! -- and all they'd done was taken her time, her devotion, her joy. Her time! She'd given Lumon 50 years of her life, and they hungered for more. Kier was gone from this place -- Kier would be horrified by this place, Harmony thought, moving as fast as she could with her ankle aching, hearing her own hoarse breaths like animal sounds from outside her. Something whispered to her from the shadows, but she didn't stop to listen. She eventually burst onto the main floor, where red and white and blue flashing lights shone through the glass facade. She hesitated -- but she had to have her things, she couldn't leave without her car keys -- so she rushed for the locker room and spun the dial on her locker, muscle memory guiding her. There was her phone, her keys, her watch. Now she had to get out of here without attracting police interest.
There was an accessible bathroom on the ground floor with a keypad lock, and the code she knew still worked. Harmony paced around the stall, ignoring her ankle and thinking. She tried to turn her phone on, but it wouldn't respond, battery dead. Her watch told her it was sometime before midnight, but what day?
After a few hours, the overhead lighting juddered back to life, and the environmental control system came on, pumping cold air into the bathroom. She dared to crack the door, and it seemed that the police were gone. The office was lit for midday, but no one appeared to be present. She watched for a while, listened, but finally she left the bathroom and crossed the empty lobby, opening the door.
The air outside was thick and humid, even though the sun hadn't risen yet. Harmony had last stepped into this building in the midst of winter. She screamed at the nearly empty parking lot, clutching her fists, and walked to her car. It took three times to get the car to start, but eventually it did.
She could be in Salt's Neck tomorrow. Salt's Neck, and then she'd find a lawyer. The car screeched angrily out of the parking lot and onto the highway, heading into the rising sun.
The rage came with her, perched in the passenger seat like the ugliest gargoyle (Woe, Woe, Woe), renewed when she stopped for gas and a phone charger and discovered today's date. She got back in the car and screamed a while at her mother and Lumon and Helena Eagan.
She merged onto the highway again, accelerating, and a bitter satisfaction rose in her as well (Malice, she thought, in the voice of an old teacher). She put a hand to her neck, imagining someone else's, feeling her racing pulse.
She'd been right all along. They were afraid of her. But now Harmony was free, and they'd regret letting her escape.
Especially Helena, whose name was stitched into the tag on Harmony's blouse. She'd regret it most of all.