The Last Pyramid Scheme

Maya stared at the coaxial cable dangling from her wall like a dead snake, its frayed end testament to three hours of technical support hell. The zombie-like customer service rep had kept her on hold, reading from a script with the enthusiasm of someone whose soul had been harvested years ago.

"Bullshit," she muttered, finally tossing the cable onto her growing pile of corporate abandonment.

Her calico cat, Pyramid, named for her uncanny ability to stack impossible objects in precarious towers, wound around Maya's ankles with demanding purrs. Pyramid had been her only constant since the layoffs began, since the office pyramid scheme collapsed in on itself, swallowing junior developers whole while executives parachuted to safety with golden severances.

The corporate bull — Vice President Donovan — had cornered her yesterday in what he thought was a seductive move against the office coffee machine. His cologne arrived before he did, a musk of desperation and midlife crisis.

"You're not like the others, Maya," he'd breathed, his hand finding her shoulder with practiced intimacy. "You're a survivor."

She'd stared at his wedding ring, then at the framed photos of his children on his desk. "That's because I haven't been offered a parachute yet, sir."

Now, in her apartment with its disconnected cable and Pyramid's judgmental yellow eyes, Maya felt the peculiar exhaustion of the morally compromised. She'd received the email at midnight: Maintain access to all files. Prepare for transition.

The whistleblower package was ready on her encrypted drive. Three years of evidence — falsified safety reports, deleted complaints, the whole rotting structure. Being the zombie who kept the secrets, or the one who finally tore down the pyramid.

Pyramid leaped onto her keyboard, walking across the keys with deliberate grace.

*Y-E-S*, she typed.

Somewhere, Donovan was probably practicing his concerned face for tomorrow's meeting. Somewhere, customer service reps were still reading scripts to people whose cables wouldn't connect. But Maya, for the first time in three years, felt something like waking up.