"Too late," Tzadi murmured. "Please come to my office, Der."
"No!"
"You must be dismissed, Der."
"Dismissed," Derrence said. "I must be dismissed." He quieted. "That's all that's going to happen, isn't it? I mean, I'm going to be fired?"
"Then you'll come to my office, Der?"
Derrence took a deep breath. "Yes."
The line clicked and went dead. Derrence put the phone down, carefully. He rubbed at his eyes, then wiped them with a handkerchief. "I'm going to be dismissed." It was a promise, a hope, now that the horror of something else, something insane and impossible, something infinitely worse filled his brain and chest and stomach. "I'm going to be dismissed."
He went to the door. He didn't stop to listen; just opened it. He stepped outside.
Mercy was at her desk, sitting quietly. She looked at him.