Bureaucratic Snafu

"To the attention of Casey Wilinsky: following your designation as 'moderate breeding stock', 3A, Inc.'s Human Resources Department has reviewed your genetic reports and selected your Optimally Compatible Available Mate. You have been matched with Mira Sanders. Sanders is a UMB with proven fertility. Report to HRRS 34872 in Section B, Block Seven. Congratulations on your marriage."

"Casey, I swear to god, if this is some sort of joke," I said, crinkling the paper up and thrusting it towards Casey. He put his hands up defensively.

"Mira, I don't even understand what is going on," Casey said. He could never hold it in when he lied. If this had been a joke, the corner of his mouth would have turned up. He would have started laughing. That didn't happen. His eyes were wide, his lips a tight line.

"Who did you think Mira Sanders was?" I asked. Casey sort of threw his hands up.

"They didn't tell me your name when you got married. I didn't know you were Mrs. Sanders. I just thought my wife had the same first name as you," Casey said. We stared at each other for a long moment. I sort of laughed, bitterly, and shook my head.

"What the fuck is going on? What kind of mistake is this?" I asked.

"Are we, like really married?" my brother asked.

"I mean, we can't be, right?" I said, knowing there was no answer. Casey looked around the room, and his eyes moved around, like he was searching for an escape hatch from this nightmare. His eyes softened, and I followed them. He was looking at my RVA.

"Contact HR and tell them they made a mistake. They will assign us different partners tomorrow," Casey suggested. I didn't really look forward to contacting HR. But, of course, there wasn't anything else I could do. Casey was right. This was the way to fix the problem. I moved quickly over to my screen and typed in the passcode to my HR account. I clicked on "troubleshooting" and lodged my complaint. I wrote:

"To Whom It May Concern: My name is Mira Sanders (Employee No. 83-43567-K). I was assigned a new husband today. But, through some sort of error my younger brother, Casey Wilinsky (Employee No. 83-43928-K), was selected as my husband. Obviously, we are not compatible mates. We, jointly, formally request reassignment to new mates."

"How does that sound," I asked Casey as he read over my shoulder. He nodded.

"Sounds right to me," he said and I clicked 'send.' I was informed that my request was being processed and that I could expect a response in 50-75 minutes. We sat for a moment, staring at the screen. After awhile, I laughed a little.

"What?" Casey asked. I put my palms up.

"They will get this settled. And we lucked into a night to hang out while they process it," I said, smiling. It was actually, in theory, really nice to see Casey. My little brother! I hadn't spent a night under the same roof with him since I got married. The first time.

"I'll make you dinner," Casey said helpfully.

"You cook?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"After mom...you know..." I frowned a little and nodded.

"I would love to eat whatever you make," I said. Casey smiled that little smile that I had always loved and he rushed off to my FPS. I followed him over and watched as he excitedly pulled out pots, pans, and utensils.

"Are you sure you aren't just making this up as you go along?" I asked, as Casey started to dig through the refrigerator.

"I know this pasta dish, if you have linguine noodles, you are going to love it!" Casey said, and it was clear he was trying to impress me. Which was sweet and cute. I reached into the cupboard and grabbed a box of noodles.

"I am sure I will," I said. And Casey began to cook. While he cooked, we talked. We reminisced about growing up. About mom. We talked about Dad and how he was doing. He was nearly at Forced Retirement Age and we both silently worried about him. To avoid that subject, I talked to Casey about his graduation from school, about his friends, about his new job. He asked me about my life, and I lied a lot.

The food was excellent. I don't know what it was. It might have been something of Casey's own invention. But it had diced tomatoes and olive oil and cheese and it was incredible. And we sat at the table and sipped my cheap, Company wine and basked in the warmth of something real and powerful. Family. My worries seemed incredibly far away. It was the most pleasant meal I could recall for a long time. I'd never had an evening like this with Martin, that was for damn sure.

As we sat at the table, digesting and sipping our wine. There was a sudden buzz from my RVA. The tell-tale sign of a message of HR. I looked at the clock and realized it had taken over two hours to get a response. Usually, that extra delay would have killed me. But now, I rose languidly from the table and walked over to my screen.

"Well, hubby," I said as I clicked to open the message, "It has been real. But I think I need someone a little less consanguineous." I read the message.

"To the Attention of Mina Wilinsky: 3A, Inc.'s Human Resources Department apologizes for the delay in response. However, that delay was caused by your error in using your previous name, Sanders. Records have already been changed to reflect your current name, Wilinsky. You will be fined one-half credit for the error, pursuant to Personnel Manual Chapter 4, Paragraph 7, Lines 71. Your request for reassignment to a new mate has been denied. Congratulations on your marriage."

I read the message twice to myself the words not really registering. I read it a third time, aloud. Casey jumped up from the table, nearly knocking a bowl of pasta onto the floor. He ran across the room towards the screen.

"What did you say?" he asked, "denied?" He pushed next to me in front of the screen, reading it slowly and shaking his head, "this doesn't make any sense! How can it be denied? What possible reason could they have..."

"God damn motherfucking..." I said, slapping my palm against my forehead so hard that my head began to ache, "I was so fucking sure that HR wouldn't fuck this up, that I forgot to include a fucking request for an explanation. Again. Motherfucker..." I yelled. I brought both of my fists up over my head and then shook them. I didn't know what else to do.

"What is happening, Mira?" Casey asked.

"Our request was was denied, Casey!" I shot back, and felt bad as I saw the look of hurt in his eyes. He wasn't trying to annoy me. He was just shocked. I was shocked too, "HR fucked it up again, I don't know how. We are still married."

"No...No, that isn't...we can't be," Casey said.

"Well, you read the message, Casey," I said, trying my best not to be caustic and failing.

"What do we do?" Casey asked. I didn't reply. I read the message again, somehow trying to will it to change to say the correct thing. I read it three more times. Every time, the same words stood out. Denied. Congratulations on your marriage. "They can't really expect us to stay married, can they?" Casey asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"I mean, obviously, they do. HR doesn't play jokes. They don't understand what a joke is," I said ruefully, "At least, not on purpose."

"Should we go down to the HR building tomorrow, and speak to someone in person. Maybe if they see us..."

"It will be the same thing, it will be the same people making the decision. Some company contractor..." I said and something clicked in my mind, "Oh fuck, the Neutral Third Party Arbitration!" I said. Tentative relief washing over me.

"What?"

"My Independent Contractor Agreement," I said, I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before. It had just been too strange, it had overwhelmed my thought processes.

"What about it?"

"I have the right, under the contract, one time, to get an arbitrator to review a decision. I have been saving it and, Christ, thank god I did!" I said, rushing over to my latest copy of the Personnel Manual, stored in the WSU. I started flipping through it frantically.

"So what is this?" Casey said, not understanding enough to feel the sense of hope that I now had.

"We file a request for arbitration, and someone outside of HR, outside of the Company even, will review their decision. And give us a final, binding award. The Company has to abide by it. It is in my Independent Contractor Agreement. We don't have to ask for an explanation, the review will be written."

"Thank god!" Casey said, "What do we do?"

"Why do you think I am reading?" I asked, flipping through the pages in the manual and hoping that the arbitration portion had not been changed since I received my last update three weeks ago.

"Well?" Casey said, after a long well. I closed the book.

"Okay," I said, and I walked over to the screen, "I do it through the HR Portal. I am not allowed to give the arbitrator anything that I didn't already give HR. So we just send them a copy of the complaint I sent earlier. HR will send them anything they relied on to make there decision. And the Arbitrator will review it all and then decide." As I spoke, I was pushing all of the necessary buttons. Finally, I clicked the 'send' button again, and submitted the dispute to the arbitrator. I was informed that my request was being processed and that I could expect an arbitration award in 50-75 minutes.

"That fast?" Casey asked, and I felt the same way. It seemed...inadequate. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Once someone outside the company sees this, it isn't going to take 50 minutes. They will mail us back in 10 minutes and tell us to split up," I said, hoping that what I was saying was true.

"Yeah," Casey said, but he sounded as unsure as I felt. We didn't return to the FPS. We didn't turn the screen over to entertainment. We didn't even speak. We sat in silence, looking RVA. Waiting.

The time ticked by at an excruciating pace. I swear to god, the clock seemed to be moving backwards. In the absolute silence, I could hear my heart thrumming in my chest, sense the blood racing through my veins. Cold sweat ran down my forehead, and my back. I looked over at Casey, only once, and saw him staring at the screen intensely. His hands were curled into fists, his knuckles white. He felt just like I did.

I knew, I mean I just knew, that when someone outside of the Company looked at what was happening, they would recognize that this was absolutely absurd. And they would fix it. And yet, HR had fucked this up twice. I couldn't be comfortable until I was sure.

Finally, after what felt like days, the familiar buzz of the RVA. I jumped. Then I looked over at Casey, and found that he had already turned to me. My mouth was totally dry, my eyeballs felt itchy. Casey wasn't even breathing. We both turned back to the screen.

"It has only been half an hour. You were right. A quick decision," Casey said, his voice seemed to boom in the quiet of the room. Half and hour? How was that even possible?

"Good," I said, and I clicked on the message. It said:

"To the Attention of Mrs. Mina Wilinsky: I have reviewed your request for reassignment to new mates as well as 3A, Inc.'s Human Resources Department's explanation for the denial. Upon review, I have decided to UPHOLD the denial of your request. The basis you cited for requests reassignment was that you and your spouse, Casey Wilinksy are, in fact, siblings. I have reviewed your personnel records, as well as the personnel records of your spouse. Those records indicate that your maiden name was "Wolinksy" while your husband's name, and your current name, is "Wilinksy." While these names are superficially similar, they are not identical. This clearly indicates that you are not, in fact, siblings. Further, in the event that you wished to claim that this was a spelling error or typo, I refer you to 3A, Inc.'s Personnel Manual Chapter 8, Paragraph 1, Line 3. In the event that errors are contained on your personnel file, you have 12 hours from the time you have actual notice of those errors to report them to HR. You received a message at 0545 this morning listing your maiden name as Wolinsky. Your husband received a 414 Notification yesterday at 0600 that listed his last name as Wilinksy. At those respective times, you each had actual notice of any alleged error. As of 1745 this evening, neither you nor your husband has filed an error report. Therefore, you have each waived the right to claim error.

"In light of the fact that you and your husband are not siblings, I have determined that your arbitration claim was spurious. There was simply no basis to set aside your marriage. In light of that fact, I had decided to award 3A, Inc. their fees and expenses incurred in defending their actions. These amounts will be automatically deducted from your future pay. 3A, Inc. will be granted two ("2") months to provide an accounting of their costs. Upon receipt, you will have two ("2") weeks to challenge any amount listed on the invoice.

"In addition, I note that your formal request to request reassignment to a new mate was made "jointly" with your husband. As a result, pursuant to Personnel Manual Chapter 28, Paragraph 12, Lines 3-4, this arbitration will be credited to each of your Independent Contractor Agreements. You have now each exhausted your arbitration opportunities.

"Thank you for selecting Davis & Rowe, PLLC for your arbitration services needs. Congratulations on your marriage."

"Mira...Mira...Mira..." Slowly, the sound of blood rushing in my ears slowly began to subside. And I could hear Casey. My brother-husband. Calling my name.

"Yeah..." I said, my voice sounding hollow and far away.

"Are you reading this the same way I do?" Casey asked, his voice sounding frantic, almost scared. I turned and looked at him, saw his eyes wide and his face flushed.

"We are married," I said, the finality dripping from my voice.

"Well, what do we do next? Who do we go to? Like...do we sue the company?" he asked and I laughed bitterly.

"We can't, its in our Independent Contractor Agreements. No suits. We had arbitration. We go it. No appeals." I said.

"So we..."

"Are fucking married Casey!" I said, the anger welling up in me suddenly, as I turned towards him. He recoiled slightly.

"But..."

"No," I said, "No buts. We had our chance. We took it. We lost. We can't go to anyone else in the Company. We can't go to anyone outside of the Company. It is over Casey. We are married. We are married. We are married. Do you need to me to fucking say it a thousand times until I fucking cry?" But it was too late for that, I was crying I don't even know what, exactly, I was crying about. It was so much more than just being married to my brother. I mean, as if that wasn't enough. But, beyond that, the next day, I had to go pay for the privilege of keeping my job. And still hadn't even filled out my Q-H form. I didn't even know where to get one. And I didn't want to get one. I didn't want to fill out a Q-H form. And I didn't want to go to work tomorrow. And I didn't want to be married to my brother. But I had a contract. And I couldn't afford not to work. Or get a new home. I was actually in debt to the Company. And so the only thing that I could do, that I was contractually allowed to do, was cry. I curled up on the floor under my screen and I just cried.

For at least a minute, the room was entirely silent, except for the sound of my whimpering bouncing off the bare walls. Nothing moved. Finally, I felt something brush my elbow and I flinched. I don't know what I expected. I had the image of the Company's Private Security Service ("PSS") arriving and evicting me for some reason, even though I hadn't done anything wrong.

But as I looked up, I saw instead my brother standing over me. His eyes were soft and he looked a little bit faraway, like he still couldn't quite believe what was happening. But as I leaned up off of the floor, one of Casey's hands slipped through my armpit. It wrapped around me. His other arm slipped underneath of my knees. His arms tensed and I felt him slowly lift me. He was stronger than he looked and he managed to rock back, pulling me off of the floor. He took a few heavy steps backwards and then gently set me down on my RSQ. He slipped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and holding me.

I kept crying, I hadn't stopped. But I leaned into my brother, let him hold me and comfort me while all of the frustrations poured from me. No just this stupid marriage, although that was by far the biggest problem. But ever stupid little indignity I had suffered at the hands of the Company from the day I had signed my contract when I was just 8 years old. I leaned against Casey's shoulder, buried my head in his shirt, and just allowed my mind to be swallowed up with grief.

I don't know how long I cried. I cried until I didn't have any tears left in my body, until my throat was raw and my eyes were red. And then I leaned silently against my brother, felt him hold me silently. I knew that in a way I was lucky. A real new husband wouldn't have loved me right now. But Casey did. He was my little brother, and he comforted me with his affection. Even if he didn't say a word. Finally, I pulled my head away from his chest and sighed.

"I am sorry about that," I said and he just sort of smiled and shrugged, "I don't know what we are going to do about all of this. There isn't anything to do. We can't..." I started, but Casey shook his head.

"We can't do anything about it tonight anyway," he said, "We should just not worry about it now. And we can figure out our next step in the morning," he said. And I smiled at him, sitting up.

"You grew up," I said softly, realizing the wisdom in his suggestion.

"Besides, we have the rest of a bottle of wine," Casey said, gesturing to the counter, "And I think we need it." I laughed and rose up off of the bed and walked over. I didn't bother with the glasses. I brought the wine bottle back to the bed and took a swig from it. I handed it to Casey, and he took a drink as well.

We sat in a sort of exhausted silence as we silently passed the bottle back and forth. I took deeper and deeper drinks, probably having twice as much as Casey did. But slowly, the pain began to dull. Especially as we got deep into our third bottle (months of savings all used up. The Company always won).

Eventually, I looked over at the clock, and saw that it was quite late. After midnight. I sighed dejectedly, " I guess I should find that Form Q-H for the morning," I said, slipping off the bed and heading to the RVA. As I clicked on the screen, I was sort of surprised to see that another urgent message had popped up. It must have come in while I was crying hysterically. We hadn't heard anything. I clicked on it, too tired to feel anything about it. Then I read it again. And again.

"Mrs. Mina Wilinsky," I began and I felt a pang of discomfort, "As per your Independent Contractor Agreement, you are required, in addition to your Regular Moderate Vocational Duty, to provide the Company with no fewer than four ("4") viable offspring. Your personnel record indicates that you have thus far produced only two ("2") viable offspring. The Human Resources Department calculates that you have at least 19 child-bearing years remaining. In that time, we calculate that you should produce at least four additional viable offspring. You will, of course, be entitled to bonuses for any child produced beyond the contractually required four ("4").

"However, while you have sufficient time to have at least four ("4") more children, you are not permitted to wait any additional time to attempt procreation. Pursuant to Article VI, Clause 6 of you Independent Contractor Agreement, as a member of breeding couple, you are required to engage in sexual intercourse with your new spouse within six ("six") hours of marriage. Further, state law requires a marriage to be consummated to be legally binding. Therefore, you must engage in sexual intercourse with your spouse by 0130 or face immediate PSR and eviction. Congratulations on your marriage."