hwango

Roland kept his head down as he crept along the row of cubicles. He wasn't that late this time. Not really. And maybe Mr. Crane wouldn't notice. Roland risked a peek over the top of the wall at the door to Mr. Crane's office. The door was shut and the blinds were drawn. Roland relaxed a little and started to breathe a somewhat exaggerated sigh of relief as he slipped into his cubicle. Then he flinched in horror and nearly crashed into the wall as he realized that Mr. Crane was sitting in his chair.

"Roland, you're late. Again."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane. I hit a lot of traffic on the –"

"Stop," Mr. Crane interrupted, holding up a hand. "I'm tired of the same old excuses."

"But sir, I really –"

"No," Mr. Crane said. "Your pattern of lateness has become inexcusable and ridiculous, and your excuses are always the same. At least do me the courtesy of coming up with some startlingly original reason why you can't seem to make it into work on time."

"But really, sir, traffic this morning was terrible. Truly."

"Then amuse me with some fabulous lie, Roland. Because right now, I'm far from amused."

"Uh…well. Okay. Actually, sir, I lead an amazing double life."

"Indeed."

"Oh, yes. This is all just a cover. A veneer of normality behind which lies the real and terrible truth. I spend my days here, but by night I battle against…against things that you can't begin to comprehend. Vast, unimaginable forces with an agenda so foul, so repellant, that for them to gain the upper hand in our struggle even momentarily might mean the end of everything that you know to be true."

Roland dropped his bag on the floor so that his hands were free to gesture wildly with both hands.

"You have no idea – the nightmares to which I must constantly bear witness. The unspeakable madness that surrounds me at nearly every moment. To relax our guard against these things would be to invite suffering on a scale beyond comprehension. My struggle against the unfathomable…"

Roland trailed off as he happened to catch a glimpse of Mr. Crane's expression.

"Anyway, it means I'm up late a lot, you know. Sometimes I oversleep," he finished lamely. He avoided Mr. Crane's gaze all through the long silence that followed.

"I'd like you here on time tomorrow, Roland."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Crane left the cubicle without another word. Roland collapsed into his chair, suddenly exhausted. Oversleep – hah! He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. There would be no rest for him or any of his kind while the secret war continued. He shook his head and smiled a bit at the absurdity of his lie. The very idea, he thought, that he would be fighting for the other side.