BooksBarbecue
Back Nothing to See
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Dedication
  4. Dedication2
  5. 1994
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 2006
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 2018
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. Acknowledgements

Peggy looked at Greta and Greta looked at Peggy. It seemed like it was going to be near to impossible for them to keep the job at the moderation contractors – and, if they were fired, the company would keep all the work they’d done. It was highly unethical, the messages said, and they needed an explanation as soon as possible. The explanation was for a paper trail. Really, the situation was gold to the contracting company, because they could scapegoat Peggy and Greta, get rid of them and keep everything they’d made. There were several messages from government officials and at least one from a law enforcement agency. Really, it didn’t matter – nothing mattered. It was all a game, but also it mattered more than anything in the world. Everything was fake, but it was all they had. If there was no food, they would starve. They’d lived on the streets in this world, been beaten within an inch of their lives. There was no peace in knowing it was manufactured.

The app had been the start of it. Their one act of rebellion in twenty-four years had set off a reaction that had seen her divide again and might mean that both of them would lose everything. There was no way to win the game. Whether it was a punishment or a reward, it made no difference. All they had was what was in front of them.

Still reading the phone, they both went to the office. There was only one desktop computer, but there was a laptop that they used to watch TV on.

‘Can we both log on at once?’ Greta said. She plugged the laptop into the multiplug and sat on the armchair opposite the desk.

‘Not sure,’ Peggy said. ‘Probably not. But the messages are coming from everywhere.’ They’d turned off the notifications. Peggy on the desktop, Greta on the laptop.

They’d never worked together – not on the same job at the same time. They looked at each other again and saw for the first time that morning that they were both dressed almost the same. A pair of tight jeans with a floral dress over the top.

‘Invoices?’ Peggy asked, but Greta was already there, in the files. She was sitting on the armchair with her legs crossed.

Peggy went to the messages.

They both realised at the same time. The invoices were there, shouting, itemised very clearly. There was no real way of denying the mess of accusations and questions stampeding into their inboxes.