Date: June 8, 2053
Client: Natalia Suzanna Karlovskaya; (common: Charlie)
Occupation: construction support; player
Client responds to terminal bell promptly, shuts off machine, removes gloves, walks toward meeting area, produces cigarette, stops to light. Client sits on stack of cement sacks, smokes.
Behavior consistent with history: client will appear at meeting approximately 1.4 minutes late; no penalty; Team Player Rating (TPR) remains low: 36.3.
Client stands, crushes cigarette, proceeds toward “locker room” environment, arrives at perimeter17:51, maintains distance, takes no seat. Coach-level manager, Bradford Arnes Pittman, details business trajectory on holographic charts. Client Karlovskaya cheers where appropriate; enthusiasm: ~10%. No verbal interaction with other players.
Coach Pittman begins promotional segment: “One more point of business before you go. I’d like to personally congratulate our own Andy Bergman.”
Six players punch player Bergman lightly on non-tender body parts, exhibiting healthy TPR.
“Andy is the proud new owner of a Ford F-550 S.” Coach Pittman initiates projection of truck, camera-angle low, emphasis on grille and right, front wheel.
Six players call out wordlessly; enthusiasm: 75%, contagious levels achieved. Five more players voice support for Bergman.
“The F-550 S reflects state of the art engineering with its ‘full-tilt’ suspension that amplifies Ford’s legendary sure-footing on rugged terrain so that even as Andy roars up some of our steep mountainsides around here, towing a load up to two tons over rough terrain, his little boy will sleep like a baby in the air-conditioned comfort of the king-cab. Andy has opted for full-report 3D screens and the Ford group’s patent geo-glee-nav, so while he cruises to….” Etc.
Client Karlovskaya smiles throughout the presentation; enthusiasm: ~10%
The coach keeps going well past six, riding the adrenaline of Andy’s new truck, but he finally calls it good, congratulating everyone on their enthusiasm, promising some bonus TPR’s. Charlie stuffs the team cap in her pocket, shaking a little air into her greasy hair, and heads for the gate but is called back by the coach: a surprise because he rarely talks to her. She puts the cap back on. “Yep,” she answers.
“I heard some good news about you,” says coach, his voice still suave, trained, it occurs to her, even after years of cigarette smoking. He pops the cap off her head in what could be a playful way, handing it to her. “Forget the uniform. We’re off the clock.”
She stands awkwardly, unsure what to do with her hands. “What’s up?” she tries.