Stand By — Please

“Hendricks?” She shook his shoulder. He didn’t respond, but his lips moved. She leaned closer.

But as she walked floor by floor, checking offices and cubicles, she realized she was. Seventy-three employees, plus three janitors. All of them in the same trance: eyes moving, lips whispering sequences of numbers. Some sat upright at their desks, fingers frozen over keyboards. Others lay on the floor like discarded dolls. The air grew warmer. The hum deepened. Please Stand By

Lena ran until her legs gave out. Then she sat on a cold curb under a dead streetlight, mop across her lap, and listened to the quiet. “Hendricks

The woman tilted her head. “You have a choice. You can join us. It’s peaceful. No more loneliness, no more confusion. Or—” She gestured to the stairwell. “You can walk out the emergency exit on the roof. The fire ladder still works. Manual override. I can’t follow you there. None of us can. Not yet.” But as she walked floor by floor, checking