"You can't be serious."
Oren could not believe what he was hearing. Was Herman some sort of prophet? Or a clairvoyant? Even as the man stood before him, in the hallway outside the locker room, with a contract in his hand, Oren simply could not accept what the tall man was offering him.
"I am quite serious, Mr. Astor." The man, who had introduced himself as Emil a couple minutes prior, said.
His voice was smooth, not like butter, but like a high-quality whiskey. He bore a smile; the type you'd see on the people your parents told you to avoid. Yet, there was a kind air about him. He seemed almost fatherly in his tone, and looked at Oren with a determined gaze. Oren couldn't decide whether those factors made the man more or less creepy.
Noticing Oren's hesitation, Emil took a step back and folded the paper putting it in his jacket pocket.
"Look Mr. Astor, I saw you diving in there. You're a natural. My company and I have been eying you as a prospect for a long while."
"What company?" Oren said, suspicion coating his tongue.
Emil reached into his jacket pocket again and pulled out a sliver of metal. At the press of a small divot in the smooth surface, it split apart and a blue holographic screen flickered to life in between the pieces. The image was of Emil's face, his title "Asset Manager", and a distinct company logo swirling around in the background.
"Arlo Corporation?" Oren practically yelled the words as utter shock ran through his veins.
"They are the second largest NADL sponsor next to JourneyMan Tech! They made Sage Sampson's D.R.C.E." He continued.
"Yes, Mr. Astor I'm well aware of my company's exploits. As a matter of fact, we are quite interested in adding you to our long list of them. We know you'd rather be sponsored by JourneyMan Tech considering your clear…bias, but we assure you that this deal is the best deal you'll get."
Oren seemed confused for a moment, as Emil pointed toward Oren's outfit. The Alex Azul-inspired ensemble was a clear indication of his admiration for the Spectrum Diver. Though, as true as it was that he'd loved to be sponsored by the same company as his idol, he'd be foolish to reject the current deal on that notion alone.
"Okay. I believe you. Tell me more." Oren straightened his back, puffing out his chest a little. He'd realized how his posture worsened as the realization of the current situation settled in his mind.
"How about we walk and talk? You take the bus from Marks and Adams Street, right?"
Oren was about to question how Emil knew such a thing, but considering that the bus was the only way to get around the town without a car, he let the words die on his tongue.
The two made their way outside of the building and into the open air. By that time, the park had closed and the sun was nearly finished setting. As the pair walked through the empty amusement park, Oren said farewell to the other workers as they cleaned and prepared to leave themselves. He quite liked the atmosphere there. The small group of workers and steady stream of regular customers made it so that he got into a quick groove being a part of the team. However, he constantly felt like he should be doing more. He felt his greatest when he was Showdiving. Performing for an audience gave him a rush like nothing else. He believed that, the more eyes on him, the better he did his job. And it showed in his scores during the mock expeditions week after week.
Nearing the end of the Amusement Park's parking lot, Emil took out the contract once again. Though it seemed like a normal piece of paper at first, it was actually a nano-fiber designed to act as a bridge between physical and digital data. It had all the properties of paper, being fairly malleable, but not nearly as fragile. And, if one looked close enough, they could see fine lines of circuitry and minuscule moving objects within. As for the words on the page, they constantly scrolled, rolling back to the top when the text reached the bottom. At the bottom edge of the page, an unmoving square with the label "signature" glowed. This was a digital signature based on biological scanning through the finger. Once pressed, that person's government-issued signature would be temporarily imprinted on the page and the contract would be sent digitally to a server.
Emil handed the contract over to Oren who read it over. While Oren wasn't a lawyer by any means, he understood the basics of good deals, and was determined to not be screwed over. After remarking the document for a while, he couldn't see anything alarming. It seemed that Arlo Corporation was genuinely looking to fully fund Oren's Diving career, as long as he remained in support of them for 3 years, and maintained a steady rank increase and good point average.
"All I have to do is…not be demoted?"
"Yes, though you do have to increase rank to Second Class within one season."
"And after that I just have to maintain the rank or increase further right?"
"That's what the contract says."
"And what about—"
Oren continued asking questions about the terms, Emil getting increasingly less patient as the young man kept his face dug deep into the contract. As they approached the bus stop, Emil couldn't take it anymore.
"Listen, young man—" His voice was harsher than usual, prompting Oren's head to burst up from the page.
Emil softened his voice quite a bit, noticing the abrupt reaction.
"You can keep the contract. Look it over when you get home, discuss it with your family. You have until this Thursday to come to a decision."
"Thursday? That's less than a week from now!"
"The Pro-Diver Training camp begins a week from today. We need the acceptance by then so that we can arrange transport to the Grand Canyon Training Facility. I do apologize for the short notice however."
"That is a long way from home."
"I trust that you can acclimate quickly. Oh, and you'll be training with the other new recruits and sweepstakes winners, as well as the Unqualified."
Oren shuddered a little at hearing about the Unqualified. There was nothing wrong with them as people. After all, only the top 84 people in the Qualifying Class get to move up to Second Class. There are five classes;
Qualifying Class
Second Class
First Class
Chroma Class
Spectrum Class
The Qualifying Class is made up of the hundreds of people who think that they can make it as a professional diver. In order to get into the Qualifying class, one has to complete a preliminary health and fitness evaluation consisting of physical and mental tests to see if the applicant is fit to dive. Only the top 84 divers by point average move on to the Second Class. Those who don't make it to Second Class are called the Unqualified.
For the Unqualified, it must be frustrating season after season to be stuck without moving up. But the thought of training with the same people that had failed to continue in their careers was daunting. Those people would be ruthless in their training. It's not like the training camp would be casual either. The GCTF Pro Diver Training Camp is known to be the most strenuous, competitive program in all of North America.
By the time the two had finished talking, they reached the bus station, where a couple other people were waiting as well. Oren tucked the contract into one of the pockets of his letterman jacket, taking a big sigh as he did. Emil put his hand on the young man's shoulder, trying in vain to be comforting.
"If you're willing to do this, sign the contract by Thursday and we'll email you your transportation details immediately."
Oren nodded his head, as the bus pulled up to the stop. He shook Emil's hand before boarding the bus, a dumbfounded smile adorning his face.
Once the bus had gone, Emil pulled out his phone and dialed the only number saved in it.
"Yes, Emil? Has the boy signed the contract?"
"Not yet, but I'm sure that he will. He needs the money, and wants the fame. I can see it in his eyes."
"Good. I was worried that the lack of prior notice might sour our chances."
"About that, Sir, you are aware the young Mr. Lovecraft will also be attending the Training Camp?"
"Will he now? I bet his snake of a mother paid to get him in. It's no matter"
"But if he finds out who Oren is, he will—"
"If Oren cannot handle Carter Lovecraft, he does not deserve to be sponsored by Arlo Corporation at all. Thank you for your duties today Emil. I'll be sure to remember this when calculating your bonus for this year"
Emil's employer hung up before he could advise further. The weary man let out a sigh before starting to walk to where he had parked his car. He was worried for Oren. Though he believed in the boy's ability, he knew just how difficult the Pro Diver Training Camp would be. From what he'd heard, this year's competition was going to be stiff.