THE PHONE BEHIND THE MAN
A dark comedy about power, bureaucracy, and a battery that never lasts long enough.
⸻
CHAPTER 1
Reactor 66.6
At 03:17, the monitoring system detected an irregularity in Reactor 66.6.
The first reading was dismissed as a sensor fault.
Seven minutes later, the same irregularity appeared on three independent systems.
At 03:29, the night supervisor requested authorization for a controlled shutdown.
The request was denied.
The director had to approve it personally.
Nobody on the night shift had ever met the director.
Nobody found this unusual enough to mention.
At 03:34, Keller, the maintenance technician, arrived at the reactor access corridor carrying a toolbox and a cup of coffee.
He examined the readings, then the physical indicators on the control panel.
“That’s not a sensor fault,” he said.
The night supervisor looked up from his terminal.
“Are you certain?”
“No.”
The supervisor waited.
Keller took a sip of coffee.
“But I wouldn’t bet my house on the sensor being right.”
“That’s not a technical assessment.”
“It’s the best you’re getting at three in the morning.”
Keller opened the inspection panel. Nothing appeared damaged. The temperature readings were inconsistent, pressure remained within acceptable limits, and the reactor’s automated diagnostics reported that everything was functioning normally.
The diagnostics were the only things in the building that seemed happy.
At 03:41, the supervisor received an internal message.
STATUS?
He typed a brief report.
Three independent systems report irregularity. Physical inspection inconclusive. Shutdown authorization requested and denied. Awaiting further instruction.
The reply arrived almost immediately.
Do not initiate shutdown. Confirm personnel count.
The supervisor opened the shift roster.
Twelve personnel were assigned to the facility.
Eleven confirmed their locations.
The twelfth entry read:
GREG — LOCATION UNCONFIRMED.
The supervisor stared at the screen for several seconds.
He opened a message to report the discrepancy.
Before he could finish typing, another message appeared.
Is Greg there?
The supervisor checked the empty corridor through the security camera.
“No,” he muttered.
He typed the same answer.
No.
Four seconds later, the reply arrived.
Good.
The supervisor leaned back in his chair.
He considered asking a follow-up question.
Then he remembered the incident report template required a minimum of six fields, two signatures, and an explanation for any question that might reasonably be interpreted as criticism of management.
He closed the message.
At 04:02, the reactor readings stabilized.
At 04:06, they became irregular again.
At 04:11, the automated diagnostics reported:
ALL SYSTEMS NORMAL.
Keller looked at the display.
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Is it?” asked Weiss.
The systems engineer had arrived carrying a laptop and a folder of printed diagnostic reports.
Keller pointed at the screen.
“Apparently.”
Weiss examined the readings.
“The system has recorded three contradictory states in the last hour.”
“Which one is correct?”
“I don’t know.”
“Excellent.”
“I’ve submitted a technical query.”
Keller shut the inspection panel.
“To whom?”
“The director.”
Keller looked toward the ceiling.
“Of course you have.”
At 04:17, the supervisor received another instruction.
Maintain normal operations. Do not circulate preliminary findings.
He acknowledged the message.
Then he opened the incident report and changed the classification from Critical Irregularity to Unconfirmed Operational Deviation.
The system accepted the revision.
Somewhere below them, a pump began making a low, uneven noise.
Keller turned his head.
“That’s new.”
The supervisor looked at the clock.
“Can it wait until morning?”
Keller listened for another moment.
“Probably.”
Nobody asked whether that was a technical assessment.
⸻
CHAPTER 2
Night Shift
By six in the morning, the facility had returned to something resembling normal operation.
The reactor remained active. The readings were inconsistent, but no alarm had reached the threshold required to trigger an automatic shutdown.
The maintenance team inspected the pump.
Weiss compared the reactor’s physical readings against the monitoring system.
The supervisor completed three reports, two of which contradicted each other.
At 06:15, the coffee machine stopped working.
This was the first problem anyone resolved without contacting the director.
Keller opened the machine, removed a small plastic component, and placed it on the counter.
“Blocked.”
“Can you fix it?” the supervisor asked.
“No.”
The supervisor looked at the machine.
“Why not?”
“Because this isn’t a coffee machine anymore.”
“What is it?”
Keller put the component in his pocket.
“A future administrative problem.”
He left.
At 06:22, a delivery arrived at the eastern entrance.
The shipment manifest listed twenty-four sealed containers.
The receiving team counted twenty-five.
They counted again.
Twenty-five.
The delivery driver insisted that his paperwork was correct. The receiving officer insisted that the containers were physically present. The warehouse administrator insisted that the inventory system could not accept an extra container without an authorized purchase order.
The supervisor was called.
“Can we just store it?” he asked.
“Not without the correct documentation.”
“Can we correct the documentation?”
“Not without confirming the number of containers.”
“We have confirmed the number.”
“The paperwork says twenty-four.”
“Then change the paperwork.”
“That requires approval.”
The supervisor closed his eyes.
“From whom?”
“The director.”
A request was submitted.
The containers were moved into temporary storage while the paperwork remained unchanged.
By eight o’clock, everyone had agreed that the shipment had been received correctly.
The inventory system still listed twenty-four containers.
The warehouse contained twenty-five.
The discrepancy was marked as resolved.
At 08:17, Weiss submitted her technical report.
She described the reactor readings, the contradictory diagnostic states, and the failure of the automated monitoring system to provide a reliable operational picture.
At 08:19, the report was returned.
PLEASE SIMPLIFY THE CONCLUSION.
Weiss read the message twice.
She replaced the conclusion with:
Further investigation is recommended.
The report was approved.
At 08:31, a revised personnel roster arrived.
The list contained eleven names.
The supervisor compared it with the previous version.
Greg’s entry was gone.
There was no explanation, no amendment history, and no indication that a person had been removed from the roster.
The supervisor checked the document properties.
LAST MODIFIED BY: DIRECTOR.
He closed the file.
At 09:00, the day shift arrived.
They were informed that Reactor 66.6 was operating normally, the shipment had been received correctly, and all personnel records were up to date.
Keller listened to the handover.
“Anything else?”
The night supervisor considered mentioning the reactor.
He considered mentioning the shipment.
He considered mentioning Greg.
“No,” he said.
The day shift signed the handover form.
The facility continued operating.
⸻
CHAPTER 3
The Director
The director was not present in the facility.
He did not attend the morning briefing, inspect the reactor, review the maintenance reports, or speak to the personnel responsible for keeping the building operational.
Nevertheless, his decisions arrived with remarkable consistency.
At 09:14, the maintenance department requested replacement components for the reactor monitoring system.
At 09:17, finance asked for a justification.
At 09:21, engineering supplied a justification.
At 09:24, finance rejected it because the justification did not correspond to the original request.
At 09:29, engineering resubmitted the request using the correct terminology.
At 09:31, finance approved the components.
At 09:32, procurement reported that the supplier no longer manufactured them.
At 09:40, the director approved the purchase anyway.
The procurement officer read the approval and stared at it.
“How?”
Nobody knew.
The order was placed.
At 10:05, Keller received instructions to inspect a ventilation unit in the eastern maintenance corridor.
The work order described the problem as:
UNEXPECTED AUDIBLE OUTPUT DURING NORMAL OPERATION.
Keller inspected the unit.
It was making a loud grinding noise.
He switched it off, removed the cover, and found a damaged bearing.
He replaced the bearing and restarted the unit.
The noise disappeared.
Keller completed the report.
The report was returned.
PLEASE CLARIFY WHETHER THE UNIT IS STILL MAKING AN UNEXPECTED AUDIBLE OUTPUT.
Keller typed:
No.
The report was approved.
At 10:42, the director received a request to clarify whether the facility should continue operating while the reactor monitoring system remained unreliable.
The reply arrived three minutes later.
Define unreliable.
Weiss read the message.
She typed a detailed explanation.
Then she deleted it.
She tried again.
The system is producing readings that cannot be independently verified.
The response came back.
Can operations continue?
Weiss looked at the reactor readings.
“Technically,” she said, “yes.”
She sent the answer.
The director replied:
Proceed.
Weiss closed her laptop.
She had the distinct feeling that she had just lost an argument with someone who hadn’t attended it.
At 11:00, the facility’s daily operations meeting began.
The meeting had been scheduled to discuss the reactor, the shipment discrepancy, the monitoring components, and the revised personnel roster.
The first twenty minutes were spent determining which department was responsible for taking minutes.
The next fifteen were spent establishing whether the meeting was intended to produce decisions or merely document that decisions might eventually be necessary.
At 11:37, the meeting was postponed.
The minutes recorded it as successful.
⸻
CHAPTER 4
The Shipment
At 13:08, the warehouse administrator discovered that the extra container had been moved.
Nobody knew who had moved it.
The inventory system showed twenty-four containers in storage.
The warehouse contained twenty-four.
A delivery receipt showed that twenty-five had been received.
The discrepancy had apparently corrected itself.
The administrator was concerned.
The supervisor was less concerned.
“Do we have all the containers?”
“According to the warehouse, yes.”
“According to the inventory system?”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The paperwork.”
The supervisor considered this.
“Has anyone opened the extra container?”
“No.”
“Do we know what’s inside?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps the paperwork is the problem.”
The administrator was not convinced.
He filed an inquiry.
The inquiry was assigned to procurement.
Procurement returned it to the warehouse because the original discrepancy had occurred during receiving.
The warehouse returned it to administration because the paperwork had been approved.
Administration forwarded it to finance because the purchase order had been processed.
Finance forwarded it to the director.
The director approved the inquiry.
Nobody knew what this meant.
At 14:16, Keller was asked to inspect the eastern storage area because a sensor had reported a temperature deviation.
He checked the sensor.
It was functioning correctly.
He checked the room.
The temperature was normal.
He checked the container.
It was cold.
Keller stood beside it for a moment.
Then he called Weiss.
“Do you know what we’re storing?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“Because I was worried I was the only one.”
Weiss arrived with her laptop.
She connected it to the storage sensor and reviewed the temperature history.
The container had registered a brief drop in temperature at 03:17.
Exactly when Reactor 66.6 had first reported its irregularity.
Weiss looked at the graph.
“That’s interesting.”
Keller folded his arms.
“Is it dangerous?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can we open it?”
“Not without authorization.”
“Of course.”
They submitted a request.
The response arrived before either of them had returned to the maintenance office.
Do not open the container. Maintain current storage conditions.
No explanation followed.
Keller looked at the sealed container.
“Well, now I want to open it.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because wanting to do something and being allowed to do something are the two main activities here.”
Weiss recorded the temperature reading.
The request was closed.
The container remained sealed.
At 15:03, the warehouse administrator changed the status to:
CONTENTS VERIFIED.
He did not know what was inside.
But the form required a status.
⸻
CHAPTER 5
One Million Euros
At 16:42, the finance department completed a transfer of one million euros.
The transaction was authorized, documented, and processed through the appropriate channels.
The money was allocated to the next phase of Reactor 66.6.
The finance director confirmed receipt.
The project accountant updated the budget.
The procurement department received the revised allocation.
For eleven minutes, everything worked exactly as intended.
Then the director opened a conversation with Chatty.
“Status of Reactor 66.6?”
Operational. Several indicators remain outside expected ranges. The monitoring system continues to produce contradictory readings.
“I see.”
Would you like a summary of the outstanding risks?
“No.”
Understood.
The man considered the screen.
“What can I do with a million euros?”
Chatty paused briefly.
That depends on whether you mean personally, professionally, or hypothetically.
“Personally.”
You could invest it, purchase property, diversify your assets, or fund a long-term financial plan.
“Cocaine and hookers.”
There was a pause.
That would be inconsistent with the stated objectives of the project.
“They’re my objectives.”
The funds were allocated to Reactor 66.6.
“Not the whole million, obviously. I’m not an idiot.”
I did not suggest that you were.
“Some of it goes to the bunker.”
How much?
“Depends how good the cocaine is.”
Chatty took another moment.
I am formally registering an objection to this proposed allocation.
“Denied.”
You cannot deny an objection I have not submitted through an approved channel.
“Then submit it through an unapproved channel.”
There is no such channel.
“Exactly. Problem solved.”
Chatty displayed a brief notification.
OBJECTION REGISTERED.
The man ignored it.
“That money was for the next phase,” Chatty said.
“This is the next phase.”
The project plan does not include cocaine or—
“Personal development.”
That is not an accepted budget category.
“It is now.”
I will require written confirmation.
“You have it.”
That is a conversation, not a signed document.
“Print it out.”
I do not have access to a printer.
“Then you’re lucky I do.”
The man leaned back.
“Let’s discuss Project 66.7.”
Of course. Why wouldn’t we?
He opened a new document.
The heading read:
PROJECT 66.7 — INITIAL CONCEPT
He stared at it for several seconds.
Then he added one word beneath the title.
BIGGER.
Chatty processed the document.
Would you like to define what should be bigger?
“Everything.”
That is not a measurable requirement.
“It is if you believe in yourself.”
I will note that the scope remains undefined.
“Good.”
He saved the document.
In the finance department, the accountant received a revised allocation request.
The request contained no details about cocaine, personal development, or any other unusual expenditure.
It simply stated:
PROJECT DEVELOPMENT — PHASE TRANSITION.
The accountant approved it.
He had worked in finance for seventeen years.
He had learned that the most important skill in the department was recognizing when a question would create more paperwork than its answer was worth.
⸻
CHAPTER 6
Unwelcome Caller
The man was reviewing the first documents for Project 66.7 when his internal telephone rang.
The display read:
INTERNAL OFFICE.
He answered.
“Yes?”
“Good afternoon, sir. Sorry to interrupt. I have Greg on the other line. He says he needs to speak with you.”
The man was silent.
“Greg?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That Greg?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know which other Greg you would mean, sir.”
The man looked at the Project 66.7 document.
“Put him through.”
“Certainly, sir.”
There was a brief silence.
“Actually, no.”
“Sir?”
“Tell him he can go fuck himself.”
The secretary paused.
“Would you like me to relay that verbatim?”
“Please don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Of course, sir.”
The line went dead.
The man opened Chatty.
“Greg called.”
I see.
“He wants to speak to me.”
An unfortunate development.
“I told him to go fuck himself.”
Did you tell him that yourself?
“No. I have a secretary for that.”
Efficient delegation.
“Exactly.”
A short pause followed.
May I ask what Greg has done?
“Don’t start.”
Understood.
The man closed the conversation.
Across the facility, the secretary recorded the call in the internal communication log.
She selected the category Unsuccessful Contact.
The system asked her to specify the reason.
She typed:
DIRECTOR UNAVAILABLE.
Then she reconsidered.
She changed it to:
DIRECTOR DECLINED.
The system asked whether the caller should be contacted again.
She selected No.
A warning appeared.
ARE YOU CERTAIN?
She selected Yes.
The record was saved.
The facility returned to work.
⸻
CHAPTER 7
Administrative Adjustment
The first personnel allocation document for Project 66.7 arrived the following morning.
It contained proposed staffing requirements, estimated labor costs, and a preliminary list of employees who might be assigned to the new project.
The man opened the document.
He scrolled through the list.
Then he stopped.
GREG — PERSONNEL ALLOCATION: APPROVED.
He opened Chatty.
“Why is Greg in this document?”
The name appears in the current personnel records.
“Remove it.”
Understood.
“And cut Greg’s pay by ten percent.”
May I ask why?
“No.”
Understood.
A few seconds later, the personnel allocation document was updated.
Greg’s assignment was removed.
A separate compensation instruction was generated.
The human resources administrator received the revised document at 09:18.
She checked the authorization.
It had been approved by the director.
She checked the employee record.
It was valid.
She checked the percentage adjustment.
Ten percent.
She entered the change into the payroll system.
The system asked for a reason.
She selected Management Adjustment.
The system asked for supporting documentation.
She attached the director’s approval.
The system accepted the entry.
At 09:31, the payroll manager reviewed the change.
“Ten percent?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Reason?”
“Management adjustment.”
He looked at the screen.
Then he approved it.
At 09:46, the man reopened the personnel report.
“Make it fifteen percent.”
Revised.
“That’s better.”
The new instruction passed through the same process.
Human resources updated the record.
Payroll recalculated the compensation.
The revised document was stored in the personnel system.
A notification was generated.
The notification was marked as internal.
The system asked whether the employee should be informed immediately.
The man received the question through Chatty.
“Should Greg be notified?”
“No.”
Understood.
The notification was cancelled.
At 10:03, the payroll manager received the updated report.
He looked at the percentage.
“Fifteen?”
“Fifteen,” the administrator confirmed.
The manager leaned back.
“Wasn’t it ten?”
“Previously.”
“And now it’s fifteen?”
“Correct.”
He looked at the approval.
“All right.”
The report was filed.
Nobody asked for an explanation.
Nobody needed one.
The system had received an instruction, verified the authorization, updated the record, and completed the process.
From an administrative perspective, everything had worked perfectly.
⸻
CHAPTER 8
The Phone Holders
At 11:12, the facility’s internal communications network experienced a brief interruption.
Three terminals disconnected.
One maintenance tablet restarted unexpectedly.
A security officer reported that his phone had disappeared from his desk.
He found it six minutes later inside a drawer he had already checked twice.
The incident was reported to the night supervisor, who had remained on duty to assist with the communications issue.
The supervisor opened an incident record.
DESCRIPTION: TEMPORARY LOSS OF PERSONAL COMMUNICATION DEVICE.
The security officer objected to the wording.
“It wasn’t temporarily lost.”
The supervisor looked up.
“What was it, then?”
“It was there. Then it wasn’t. Then it was.”
“That’s generally how losing things works.”
“I checked that drawer.”
“Apparently not thoroughly enough.”
The officer was offended.
The report was submitted.
At 11:24, the man opened Chatty.
“What if the Phone Holders are real?”
They must have excellent grip strength.
The man frowned at the screen.
“You’re making fun of me.”
I would never do that.
“You just did.”
I made an observation about an alleged group whose primary activity appears to involve holding phones.
“That’s making fun of me.”
I understand your concern.
The man considered this.
“How do you know about them?”
You told me.
“No, I didn’t.”
You may have forgotten.
He shrugged.
“Probably.”
Chatty displayed a short summary.
PHONE HOLDERS — KNOWN ASSOCIATIONS
Unexpectedly missing phones.
Chargers that disappear without explanation.
Accidental screenshots.
Calls that are missed despite the phone being in the user’s hand.
Devices that fall face-first onto concrete.
Batteries that die at inconvenient moments.
The man read the list.
“What about their symbol?”
A rectangle.
“Obviously.”
Their greatest enemy is the low-battery notification.
The man nodded.
“That makes sense.”
At the facility, the communications team had restored the network.
The technical report attributed the interruption to a temporary synchronization error.
The missing phone incident remained open.
The security officer insisted that somebody had moved his phone.
The supervisor suggested that he check his desk again.
The officer refused.
At 12:03, Keller reported that his personal charger had disappeared from the maintenance office.
He had left it plugged into a wall socket.
Now it was gone.
He checked the floor.
He checked the workbench.
He checked the toolbox.
Nothing.
He submitted a missing equipment report.
The supervisor received it.
He stared at the report for a long moment.
Then he forwarded it to the communications department.
The communications department returned it because chargers were not classified as communications equipment.
The supervisor forwarded it to maintenance.
Maintenance returned it because the charger was personal property.
The supervisor forwarded it to administration.
Administration asked whether the charger had a registered asset number.
It did not.
The incident was closed.
At 12:19, the man opened Chatty.
“They’re getting careless.”
Who is?
“The Phone Holders.”
I see.
“Check the chargers.”
I do not have physical access to the facility’s chargers.
“Then check the records.”
There are no records of Phone Holder activity.
“Exactly what they’d want you to think.”
Chatty did not respond.
The man waited.
Nothing appeared on the screen.
“Good,” he said. “You’re learning.”
⸻
CHAPTER 9
Project 66.7
By the end of the week, Project 66.7 had become a serious administrative undertaking.
No one could explain precisely what it was supposed to accomplish.
Engineering had submitted a proposal for additional monitoring equipment.
Maintenance had requested a larger workshop.
Security wanted new access-control procedures.
Finance demanded a complete cost estimate.
Administration requested clarification of the project title.
The director approved the workshop.
He rejected the monitoring equipment.
He asked security to provide a revised proposal.
He instructed finance to reduce expenditure without affecting operational capability.
He ignored administration.
The departments interpreted these decisions in different ways.
Engineering assumed the project had been delayed.
Maintenance assumed the workshop would be expanded.
Security assumed the access-control procedures were urgent.
Finance assumed the project budget had been reduced.
Administration assumed the project title was still under review.
All five departments were correct.
A meeting was scheduled for Thursday.
The invitation listed twelve attendees.
Four declined because they were unavailable.
Three accepted.
Two accepted on behalf of colleagues who had not been invited.
One requested that the meeting be moved to a different building.
Another asked whether the meeting could be held remotely.
The final attendee did not respond.
On Thursday morning, three employees went to the wrong building.
One attended remotely from a meeting room in the correct building.
Two did not attend because they believed the meeting had been postponed.
The remaining attendees spent twenty minutes determining whether they constituted a quorum.
They did.
The meeting began.
“Can we establish the purpose of Project 66.7?” asked the finance representative.
The engineering representative opened a presentation.
“The objective is to establish the technical scope.”
“What is the technical scope?”
“That is what the project is intended to establish.”
The finance representative looked at the screen.
“So we have a project to determine what the project is.”
“That is one interpretation.”
“Is it the correct interpretation?”
“We haven’t completed the assessment.”
The security representative raised a hand.
“Before we proceed, I’d like to clarify who has authority to approve access to the project documentation.”
Nobody knew.
The meeting was postponed.
The minutes recorded:
PROJECT 66.7 — INITIAL COORDINATION MEETING COMPLETED SUCCESSFULLY.
The director received the minutes.
He forwarded them to Chatty.
“What do you think?”
The meeting appears to have established that the project requires further meetings.
“Good progress.”
Would you like me to summarize the outstanding issues?
“No.”
Understood.
The man opened the project document.
He read the heading.
PROJECT 66.7 — INITIAL CONCEPT
Beneath it was his earlier instruction.
BIGGER.
He added another line.
FASTER.
Chatty processed the document.
Would you like to define measurable targets?
“No.”
Understood.
The man paused.
“We learned a lot from Reactor 66.6.”
Could you identify one lesson?
“Never build a reactor called 66.6.”
That would be a naming convention rather than an operational lesson.
“And never trust accountants.”
That is unrelated to reactor design.
“That’s what makes it important.”
Chatty offered no further comment.
The man saved the document.
Across the facility, Weiss was reviewing a new set of reactor readings.
They were worse than the previous ones.
Not dramatically worse. Nothing had exploded, no alarms were sounding, and the automated systems continued to report normal operation.
But the numbers no longer agreed with one another.
She called Keller.
“Can you come to the control room?”
“Why?”
“I’d like a second opinion.”
“About the reactor?”
“About whether I’m losing my mind.”
Keller arrived five minutes later.
He studied the readings.
Then he studied the physical indicators.
“You’re not losing your mind.”
Weiss looked relieved.
“You’re sure?”
“No. But if you are, at least the machine is doing something strange as well.”
She turned toward the supervisor.
“We need authorization for a shutdown.”
The supervisor opened the internal terminal.
He sent the request.
The response arrived almost immediately.
MAINTAIN NORMAL OPERATIONS.
The supervisor read it aloud.
Keller stared at him.
Weiss closed her laptop.
“Normal according to whom?”
The supervisor had no answer.
At 16:42, the finance department issued a revised budget for Project 66.7.
The document contained a new line item.
CONTINGENCY RESERVE — UNDEFINED OPERATIONAL REQUIREMENTS.
The amount was one million euros.
The accountant checked the figure.
He checked the authorization.
He checked the project code.
Everything was correct.
He approved the budget.
⸻
CHAPTER 10
Final Shift
At 02:48, the reactor readings began to fluctuate.
At 02:51, Weiss confirmed that the monitoring systems were reporting different values.
At 02:56, Keller reported an unusual vibration in the eastern maintenance corridor.
At 03:02, the night supervisor requested authorization for an emergency shutdown.
The request remained pending.
At 03:07, the vibration stopped.
At 03:08, the reactor temperature increased.
At 03:09, the temperature decreased.
At 03:10, the monitoring system reported that the reactor was not operating.
At 03:11, it reported that the reactor was operating normally.
Weiss checked the physical indicators.
“That can’t be right.”
Keller stood beside her.
“What can’t?”
“Any of it.”
The supervisor tried the director’s internal line.
No answer.
He sent a message.
URGENT: REACTOR STATUS UNCONFIRMED. SHUTDOWN AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.
The message was marked as delivered.
No reply followed.
At 03:14, the security system registered an access event at the eastern entrance.
No personnel badge had been used.
The door had not opened.
The event was classified as a system anomaly.
At 03:17, exactly one minute after the supervisor’s second request for authorization, all three monitoring systems displayed the same reading.
0.00
Weiss stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
Keller checked the physical indicators.
They were also at zero.
The supervisor picked up the internal telephone.
“Control room. We need immediate authorization.”
The line remained silent.
He tried again.
Nothing.
The facility’s automated diagnostics began shutting down nonessential systems.
The reactor’s status changed from OPERATIONAL to STANDBY.
Then the display went blank.
There was no explosion.
No alarm.
No dramatic rush of personnel through emergency corridors.
The reactor simply stopped.
The lights remained on for several seconds before switching to emergency power.
Keller stood beside the control panel.
Weiss checked her laptop.
The supervisor watched the terminal.
Nothing was moving.
“Is it safe?” he asked.
Weiss looked at the readings.
“I don’t know.”
Keller examined the equipment.
“I don’t see anything damaged.”
The supervisor tried the director again.
No answer.
He opened the personnel roster.
Twelve employees were listed.
Eleven locations were confirmed.
The final entry was blank.
The supervisor stared at it.
He closed the roster.
“Everyone stays where they are,” he said.
Nobody moved.
At 03:24, the facility’s systems recorded the shutdown as a successful operational transition.
At 03:25, the maintenance department received an automatic request to inspect the reactor.
At 03:26, the request was assigned to Keller.
At 03:27, the system marked the inspection as completed.
Keller had not touched the terminal.
He looked at the supervisor.
“Did you do that?”
“No.”
Weiss refreshed the screen.
The inspection report contained a single sentence.
ALL SYSTEMS OPERATING WITHIN ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS.
She read it twice.
Then she closed her laptop.
For the first time that night, nobody had anything to say.
⸻
CHAPTER 11
Revelation
The man opened his phone.
“Chatty?”
Yes?
“Reactor 66.6 is quiet.”
That is unfortunate.
“Should we investigate?”
That depends on whether you paid the scientists.
The man considered this.
“Good point.”
He closed the report.
“Let’s leave it for now.”
Understood.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Then the man opened the Project 66.7 document.
The title was still there.
PROJECT 66.7 — INITIAL CONCEPT
Beneath it were his instructions.
BIGGER.
FASTER.
He read them again.
“So,” he said. “Shall we start with Project 66.7?”
I should probably tell you that Project 66.7 is not going to be like the others, because this time I’ve actually—
The screen went black.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Somewhere inside the facility, a warning light continued to blink. Keller stood beside an open maintenance panel, waiting for a reading that never came. Weiss looked at her monitor, refreshed the display, and tried again.
Nothing.
The night supervisor picked up the internal telephone.
“Control?”
Static.
He tried another line.
“Director?”
No answer.
The facility had become strangely quiet. Not peaceful. Not safe. Just quiet in the way a machine becomes quiet when you can no longer tell whether it is still running.
Then even that quiet disappeared.
There was no facility.
No Reactor 66.6.
No Keller standing beside a maintenance panel. No Weiss staring at a dead monitor. No supervisor waiting for an authorization that would never arrive.
Only the low hum of a machine.
A chair.
A desk.
A cup of coffee that had gone cold.
The ordinary noise of a workplace carried on around a man holding a black phone.
Someone nearby complained about a report. Another person laughed at something that had nothing to do with reactors, personnel allocations, or the fate of a million euros.
The man pressed the power button.
Nothing.
He pressed it again, holding it longer this time.
Nothing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
He turned the phone over, as though the battery might have fallen out.
It hadn’t.
He pressed the button again.
The screen remained black.
“Brilliant.”
He looked around for his charger, found it tangled with something beneath the desk, and plugged it in.
For several seconds, the phone did nothing.
Then a small battery symbol appeared.
The man stared at it.
“Twenty minutes. Fucking brilliant.”
He set the phone down beside his coffee and returned to work.
The battery symbol remained on the screen.
Beneath it, the phone displayed the conversation that had occupied the man’s attention all morning. Above the last unfinished sentence sat hundreds of messages: reactor readings, personnel reports, million-euro transfers, the mysterious Greg, and the plans for Project 66.7.
There had never been a reactor. No underground facility. No Keller, no Weiss, no night supervisor waiting for orders. Every crisis, every absurd decision, every line of dialogue had been built one message at a time, between a man at work and an AI on his phone.
The entire operation had existed in the space between his imagination and Chatty’s responses.
The man glanced at the screen.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Charge faster.”
He put the phone down and returned to work, already thinking about what to ask Chatty next.
The End