At 5:40 p.m., carrying inspection logs under one arm and coffee cold enough to have lost its identity, he stepped out of the service elevator. The artificial Christmas tree near accounting stood crooked, decorated with tiny circuit boards that flashed whenever someone walked too close. His coworkers' faces changed as he approached his desk. Some looked surprised; some looked sorry. One young engineer, Tyler Brooks, opened his mouth and closed it again when he noticed the two guards standing beyond the cubicles.
Preston Blackwell III waited beside Nolan's monitor, silver hair swept backward, expensive watch catching the glow from the holiday lights. Graham Winslow from Human Resources stood at his elbow with a thin envelope and an expression that suggested he had spent the afternoon convincing himself not to object. Nolan recognized the arrangement instantly, not because it had ever happened to him, but because no one uses two security officers and an audience merely to discuss a scheduling error.
"Mercer," Preston called across the office. "Don't bother taking off your coat."
Nolan tightened his grip on the folder. He would later remember the song that had been playing, the small silver ornament swinging beside his desk, the warm cardboard of his daughter's card under his fingers. But most clearly he would remember the way nearly everyone turned away at the same moment, as though their eyes had been ordered to protect their jobs instead of recognizing what they were seeing.
Preston began with the tone of a host making an announcement at a banquet. He said that WestBridge maintained high professional standards and that certain people had chosen to place their personal opinions above the interests of everyone else. His gaze swept across the cubicles, lingering on employees who had worked overtime to complete the consortium project. Then he looked directly at Nolan and announced that his employment had been terminated effective immediately for refusing directives, abandoning assigned responsibilities, and threatening a critical delivery.
The word "abandoning" almost made Nolan laugh. He had been inside the testing bay since before sunrise, and the inspection folder in his hand contained the results of work he was still trying to complete. He looked toward Marla's workstation, but she was attending a late technical meeting on another floor. Graham stepped forward before Nolan could gather his thoughts and offered the envelope with both hands, like a clerk serving an important document he hoped not to read himself.
Nolan opened it. The letter summarized supposed violations he did not recognize, referred vaguely to prior warnings, and asserted that the company had suffered material disruption as a result of his conduct. There were no dates for the warnings, no names of witnesses, and no reference to the failed acceptance measurements. He read the first page carefully enough to be certain he was not misreading it, then looked at Graham. "Could we discuss this privately?" he asked.
"There is nothing private about letting down an entire company," Preston replied before Graham could speak. "People who cost us money ought to answer in front of the people who have to pay for it."
A woman from accounting lowered her eyes. Someone near the copier stopped feeding paper into the machine. Nolan could hear the metal of the Christmas ornaments tapping against one another as the ventilation came on. He thought of the coworkers who had quietly thanked him over the years for staying late to solve a fault, and he wondered how many were afraid that defending him would put their own names on the next envelope.
"I did not abandon a test," he said. "I requested that it be completed according to the acceptance requirements."