"With all due respect, Mister Clayton, sir, you can't actually be serious?" Grayson looked torn between horror and disgust.
"Listen, Devin. I know you're rather against anything like this, but you have to understand, times are changing and we've got to keep up with them. My casino has to remain at the top, and to do so we have to therefore keep on top of all developments," Clayton folded his hands on the broad, dark oak desk that separated him from his employee. Behind him, from the ninety-ninth floor of the Rosso e Nero, Las Vegas sprawled out across the flat desert, flashing and variously coloured lights stretching out through the darkness.
It was taking all of Grayson's self control not to just stare past his boss at the sparkling lights and pretend that the conversation they were currently having was not real.
"Sir, I just…" Grayson started again, shaking his head, "I can understand why you want this. But surely it doesn't have to be a rule? I've been working with you for the past ten years, surely that must count for something?"
"Of course it does," Clayton nodded, "Your loyalty to me, my casino and our patrons knows no bounds. But this is going to be a legal requirement for all my employees, and despite your views and our past together, you cannot be exempt."
As Grayson shook his head again and leant back chair, Clayton put his hands on the desk between them and pushed himself upright. He then turned his back on Grayson as he made his way across the room to the floor to ceiling windows, where he stopped and gazed out across the city that he and his casino dominated.
"Listen Devin," Clayton spoke up again, "If it makes any difference, I will offer to pay for the procedures that you need to undergo to be made up-to-date."
Grayson had just been about to pick up a glass of scotch from the desk, but it was a good thing he'd not yet had a chance to take a sip, as it would no doubt have been sprayed across the room, "Sir? Keep make me 'up-to-date'?" he was completely incredulous, "This isn't about money, it's about exactly that comment. I feel I don't need to go and shove bits of metal in my brain, eyes or ears for me to be able to keep my job. I can't possibly be outdated, when I'm simply fully human."
"I'm sorry Devin, I would have thought you'd have understood that as the city progresses, we must follow her into the future," Clayton sighed, turning around to face Grayson, "I had hoped to make you see sense."
"I'm sorry sir, but I can't possibly just go to one of the clinics and get these bionic enhancements you've listed, just because it's becoming a rule that all employees must have them," Grayson shook his head.
"Then there seems to be no other option than for me to let you go," Clayton sighed again.
Grayson quite literally had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something he knew he'd regret, so he just nodded stiffly. Short of him caving in and undergoing the augmentations his boss was proposing, he knew there was nothing more he could do. Especially as there was no chance he'd ever set foot in one of those stark, white buildings where he would be forced to trade in little pieces of his humanity for something that might possibly make his life a little easier, but would also force him to become reliant on a range of painkillers and drugs until the day he died.
"I really will be sad to see you go," Clayton looked genuinely sombre at the thought, "And for that reason, before I strike you from the Rosso e Nero family completely, I'll give you a chance I wouldn't offer others. For the next four months, you will be suspended, but with complete pay. If, during those four months you do undergo the treatment, then you are more than welcome to return to your post. If, by the time those months are up, you have not, then you will be lost to us permanently. This may not be ideal, but trust me Devin, this is a show of goodwill that no other employee in this entire hotel will have the chance to experience."
Again, Grayson responded with a stiff nod. It was generous of his employer, but Grayson knew that in four months time, he would still be entirely human. Not even the threat of losing his permanent job could make him turn his back on his humanity. Still, the four months of pay would hopefully tide him over until he found another hotel to take him on. If they too hadn't decided to bring in this ridiculous new clause where all employees were to have at least one work related augmentation.
Grayson fully understood the applications of enhancements and augmentations, especially in the medical field where both doctors and patients alike were able to benefit from the new technologies. If someone had lost their sight, why not return it to them? If they had lost a limb, why not offer them a replacement? He could see nothing wrong with that. But when it simply came down to pushing human evolution forward, just because they could, where people were sacrificing their hearts and limbs just to add that little something extra to their daily lives, Grayson just couldn't see the point. He was a humanist. Enhancement to those who suffered was acceptable. Those who were being enhanced for, say, their job, that wasn't, not to him.
So, knowing that the conversation was over, with nothing more either of them could say or do, Grayson straightened up. As he did so he picked up the glass of scotch and knocked it back quickly before setting the now empty glass back down.
Before Grayson turned for the door, his eyes locked with his boss's briefly.
"We are very sad to see you go," Clayton told him sincerely, "But do hope to have you back soon."
This time Grayson didn't hold his tongue, "Not likely," he grunted, "Not so long as you want your staff to be made of more metal than flesh."
Clayton just clicked his tongue lightly and turned his attention back to the city spread out beneath him, leaving Grayson to walk to the elevator at the back of the room in silence.
It wasn't quite walk of shame, Grayson neither having resigned nor been fired, but it still seemed to take forever. Each step he took, his booted feet sinking into the overly plush shag pile carpet, seemed to get harder. He was walking away from his job, his livelihood, pushed away because his boss wanted him to trade in his humanity. In this day and age, where people were becoming augmented as if it were going out of fashion, surely there were people who'd understand those who strove to keep hold of what made them human?
But of course not. Grayson should have seen it coming. As a world-leading casino, it had to keep up to date. And up-to-date meant cybernetically enhanced employees, be them bar staff, croupiers or surveillance officers like himself. It had been only a matter of time before he'd have had to decide between augmentations or his job.
On reaching the lift, he jabbed the call button rather harder than necessary, sending a shooting pain along his finger and up his arm. He'd been prepared to wait awkwardly for the lift to slid up to him, but luckily as soon as his arm had dropped back to his side, the doors slid open, allowing him to enter the small cylindrical space.
Turning around to face the door and the numbered console, he was somewhat relieved to see that Clayton still had his back to him. With the range of emotions that he knew were playing across his face, Grayson didn't want them to part on any worse terms.
So he hit the lift button for the bottom floor, careful to moderate his strength this time, allowing the doors to ease themselves shut, sealing him in the metal and glass tube as it began its rapid decent down the hundred storey building.