Anthropomoron
INTERIOR. BARLO GRUMMOND’S OFFICE – NIGHT
A wide, reinforced window dominates the back wall.
Beyond it lies the warehouse. Or what’s left of it. A jagged breach tears through the far wall. Frost rims the edges. Half the warehouse is sealed behind emergency bulkheads, and the other half is a graveyard of scattered containers and drifting particulate.
Barlo Grummond stands in the foreground. His proboscis coils and uncoils with restrained violence. Three eyelids blink in irritated sequence.
Tam stands across from him, trying very hard to make himself smaller.
BARLO:
(quiet and restrained)
Tam. Explain to me… how my warehouse became this.
TAM:
(blurting out)
It was the human.
BARLO closes all three eyelids at once.
BARLO:
Of course it was.
He turns slightly, gesturing toward the breach without looking at it.
BARLO:
Three months of Helium-3 product. Gone. Pulled into the void because of some stupid hairy loser.
TAM:
(defensive, immediate)
I told you we shouldn’t hire them. They’re reckless. They’re loud. They leak constantly. And the rituals—
BARLO:
(interrupting)
Yes, Tam. Humans are catastrophic idiots.
He turns back, eyes narrowing.
BARLO:
Unfortunately, catastrophic idiots now write federation labor law.
He begins pacing slowly around his office.
BARLO:
(Ranting)
If we fall below twelve percent human staffing, we'll be fined into extinction. All because a species that invented deep-fried butter now dictates interstellar compliance metrics.
BARLO:
Walk me through exactly what happened. Slowly.
Tam exhales.
TAM:
It was Gary’s seventh legally protected religious activity of the day.
BARLO:
…Seventh.
TAM:
Yes. A barrel of regolith fell from Conveyor Three. It ruptured on impact, spreading dust across the warehouse floor, and creating a breathing hazard.
BARLO:
And you initiated evacuation?
TAM:
Immediately. We followed procedure, and everything was under control... for a moment.
BARLO:
Of course.
They both glance down toward the warehouse.
TAM:
Gary... exited the bathroom.
BARLO:
(weary)
Why are you telling me this?
TAM:
The rims of his nostrils and the hairs of his mustache were coated in white powder.
BARLO:
Is that normal for human religious rituals?
TAM:
According to Gary, yes. He was shouting about the spirit of the lord. I attempted to stop him. Warned him about the contamination. Directed him to evacuate.
BARLO:
And did he comply?
TAM:
No. He mounted a forklift and activated his audio device.
BARLO:
Music.
TAM:
Yes. Loud, aggressive human noises.
BARLO winces.
TAM:
He began shouting along with it.
BARLO:
Of course he did.
TAM:
I approached again. Raised my voice. Signaled danger.
Tam swallows.
TAM:
He waved me off... and declared—
Tam hesitates.
BARLO:
Say it.
TAM:
(shouting)
“MAMA AIN’T RAISE NO BITCH!”
Silence.
BARLO’s proboscis goes still.
BARLO:
…What does that mean?
TAM:
I don’t know, but it appeared to increase his confidence.
Tam gestures toward the ruined warehouse.
TAM:
He accelerated to full speed.
BARLO closes his eyes.
TAM:
I evacuated. Secured the door. Observed through the reinforced viewport.
BARLO:
Please hurry up with this, Tam.
TAM:
He drove directly into the regolith spill and lost traction. His forklift slid uncontrollably and impacted the wall.
Barlo and Tam both look at the breach.
TAM:
The wall punctured immediately, causing rapid depressurization.
BARLO’s fingers tighten.
BARLO:
And Gary?
TAM:
He was… in front of the breach. The pressure differential—
BARLO:
(wearing thin)
Please Tam, you're killing me. Just tell me what happened.
TAM:
He was pulled through the opening.
He… became particulate.
BARLO blinks once.
BARLO:
These humans…are going to be my downfall.
TAM:
(nods)
I have begun drafting a recommendation to reduce human hiring.
BARLO lets out a empty laugh.
BARLO:
Send it to the board. I’m sure they’ll review it between accepting donations.
Tam shifts.
TAM:
There is one additional matter.
BARLO:
No.
TAM:
Yes.
BARLO:
No.
TAM:
Yes.
BARLO:
FUCK! JUST SAY IT, TAM!
Tam checks his datapad.
TAM:
The incident has been logged as occurring during a protected religious activity.
BARLO:
Explain.
TAM:
Because Gary had just completed a ritual… his actions may be interpreted as an extension of that practice.
BARLO:
No.
TAM:
Yes.
BARLO:
No, Tam.
TAM:
The union has filed a grievance.
BARLO:
(dead inside)
Of course they have.
TAM:
They’re requesting hazard pay adjustments, revised safety accommodations—
and the installation of designated “Ritual Operation Zones.”
Barlo turns to the window and exhales slowly.
BARLO:
I'm fucking ruined...
CUT TO BLACK.