Request

Hale’s message had no subject, as if context itself had become optional.

It arrived mid-morning, slipped between routine notifications. No priority marker drew attention to it. Anton read it once, then again.

Could you stop by when you have a moment? — Hale

Anton waited longer than necessary before responding. When he did, he kept it brief.

I’m free after eleven.

The reply came almost immediately.

That works.

The meeting room was already occupied when he arrived. Hale sat at the far end of the table, a tablet resting beside him. The blinds were half-closed, muting the light without darkening the room.

“Thank you for coming,” Hale said. “This won’t take long.”

Anton sat.

Hale didn’t open with context. He spoke as if continuing an earlier conversation.

“We’ve noticed your summaries have been effective,” he said. “They help close loops before discussions spread.”

Anton listened.

“There’s a review coming up,” Hale continued. “A sensitive one.”

“What kind?” Anton asked.

“One where interpretation matters.”

Hale slid a document across the table. It was short. Three pages. The language was familiar.

“We’d like you to take the first pass,” Hale said. “Just to frame it.”

Anton scanned the opening paragraph. The facts were present. The sequencing was deliberate. Certain details appeared later than he expected. Others were absent.

“What’s the audience?” he asked.

“Internal,” Hale said. “Senior.”

“And the outcome?”

Hale smiled faintly. “Stability.”

Anton read the document again.

“This would carry my name,” he said.

“Yes,” Hale replied. “That’s part of why we’re asking.”

Anton felt the weight of that settle.

“If I decline?” he asked.

Hale didn’t answer immediately. He adjusted the tablet, as if checking something unrelated.

“We’d find another way,” he said. “But this aligns with how you’ve been operating.”

The phrasing was careful. It described continuity, not pressure.

Anton placed the document back on the table.

“I’ll need time,” he said.

“Of course,” Hale replied. “There’s no rush.”

He stood, signaling the meeting’s end.

As Anton left the room, he noticed how ordinary the hallway looked. People passed with folders and laptops. A conversation drifted from a nearby office. Nothing suggested significance.

At his desk, Anton opened the document again. He read it more slowly this time, tracing the structure rather than the content. He could see exactly where his voice would fit.

He closed it without making changes.

The request sat with him through the afternoon. Meetings blurred. Messages arrived and were answered. The workday continued, intact.

Near evening, Mira stopped by.

“You met with Hale,” she said.

“Yes.”

She waited.

“They asked you to do something,” she said.

Anton didn’t deny it.

She nodded once. “That’s how it happens.”

After she left, Anton remained at his desk, the document still unopened on his screen.

He understood that the responsibility would be his alone.

And whatever he chose next would not be adjustable.