As Max reached the front doors to Polar-Tech, the guards shifted aggressively—but let him pass without incident. The cameras on the outside of the building would have already scanned Max and informed them that he was a paying customer. Meaning: he had business at Polar-Tech and didn’t need to be shot or severely beat just for approaching the building. When Max reached the doors, none said so much as a word.

Just like the exterior, the lobby of Polar-Tech was shockingly pristine compared to the shadowed, grubby world sitting on the other side of its bulletproof glass doors. An array of bright, sparkling lights shone down from the ceiling, and the marble floor was so polished that Max could almost see his own reflection. A long counter stretched its way across the middle of the big lobby, flanked to either side by elevators shooting up into the higher floors. More armed guards roamed the lobby, their chests thickened with ballistic vests.

Max approached the counter, where several uniformed employees worked.

“Welcome to Polar-Tech,” said the receptionist, a brown-haired woman in a crisp gray suit. She smiled, but no genuine mirth touched the corners of her dark eyes. It was simply a part of her programming. “What can I do for you today?”

The question was merely a formality. When Max's face had been scanned outside of the building, the reason for his visit had been deduced. She knew why he was here, had already seen the details of his account, but Max did his part to play along. It was the polite thing to do. “Here to discuss service,” he said.

With another fake smile filled with too-perfect teeth, the woman motioned to a wide opening set into the right wall of the lobby. Max nodded and headed over.

The opening led to a large room filled with rows of stainless steel desks. There were ten desks per row, five rows in total. Behind each desk sat a Polar-Tech operator, wearing the same sharp gray suits as the receptionist.

As soon as Max stepped into the room, he could tell something was amiss. For one, there were far more people in the room than normal. They stood in front of the desks, their body language stiff, defensive, angry. More than a few had risen their voices, yelling or pleading. One woman sobbed openly. These sounds floated like unwelcome guests throughout the room, which otherwise would have been silent aside from the faint buzz of the ventilation system overhead.

“Over here, sir,” called one of the operators, who motioned Max over. As he did so, a man on the opposite side of the room began to shout. He only managed a few obscenities before the guards were there, tasing him into stillness. As they dragged him away, the rubber of the man’s soles squealed along the polished floor. A disc-shaped robot scurried out of a hole in the wall and followed behind, it’s wipers cleaning any residue left behind.

Max's unease spread like a chill.

"What's going on?" he asked, now standing before the operator's desk.

“Oh, that! Problems with the changes to our policy, no doubt.” The man was wholly undisturbed by the outburst. The impassive set to his face hadn’t so much as twitched during the interruption. “Now then Mr. Sterling, what can I do for you today?”

Changes to our policy? The words caught. If people were reacting this way, it couldn’t be good. Maybe it didn’t affect him, but knowing how corporations acted... Max sensed otherwise. “I'm not sure, maybe you can tell me,” he said. "I received a notification earlier."

“Excellent! I’d be happy to help.” The operator’s fingers tapped on the holoscreen sitting above the desk, pulling up the account information. “Let's take a look.”

For a few more seconds, the man's fingers few across the screen, his face still impassive, unreadable.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Sterling, I’m sorry to inform you that the rates on your plan have increased. Please see the new amount due.” The man pointed at the screen, where a number had come up on Max’s side.

Max stared at the screen, incredulous. Almost a 15% increase… Now he knew why the man had been outraged. It was criminal. “That's ridiculous! You can't be serious..."

“Well, yes. The contract you signed reserves us the right to change its terms whenever necessary. As our technology improves, so do the costs. But rest assured, at Polar-Tech Industries, every coin will be well-spent towards your loved one’s continued suspension in cryosleep.”

Yeah, right, thought Max.

He wanted to argue, but he was sure the man was right about the contract. Corporations like Polar-Tech always covered themselves with legal mumbo-jumbo... No corporation survived without knowing the law inside and out, and the only corporations that thrived were those who changed the laws they could not twist. They employed legions of lawyers and lobbyists to ensure it.

Max did a quick calculation in his head—there was no way he could pay that much extra right now. He was barely making payments as is... If he paid the full amount due, he wouldn’t have enough for his Pod rental, or the Juice he needed to keep making money. It was impossible. He didn’t have enough Alethia Coins in his account to cover it. "I can't pay that. It's impossible," he said.

"Ah well, that is your decision, of course. However, we'll have to discontinue service. You understand."

"Not really."

The operator smiled politely, as if he were speaking to a child. "Polar-Tech's proprietary technology is the best on the market. Unfortunately, that premium comes with expense. We are not a non-profit, Mr. Sterling, as I'm sure you're aware, and our operating costs are high. Power, maintenance, equipment—"

"I get it." Max waved his hand. Being taken advantage of was enough. He didn't need to sit through being patronized as well. Besides, he knew this game, he knew where this conversation was going. Might as well not waste any more time getting there. "Alright then. What are my options?"

“I'm glad you asked! If you can’t make your full payment today, not to worry. You can choose to defer. However, that will incur an additional fee, and the full payment will be due again this time next month.” The operator smiled, as if relaying good news. “Of course, continued missed payments will result in a lapse of service.”

Lapse of service.

Clever way of saying euthanized. "Lapse of service" meant that his mother would be taken out of cryosleep, which was, due to her illness, in essence a death sentence. Max couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. In her current condition, his mother would only last a few more weeks without medical care. It was, in fact, the whole reason she had been put in cryosleep in the first place—so Max could eventually save up enough money to pay for the treatment she needed.

Max wracked his brain, but he already knew he was out of choices. He would have to make a partial payment, and somehow come up with the rest of the money by next month. When he resigned himself to his fate, he told the operator as much.

“Excellent! A partial payment it is. If you’ll please, pass your tablet under the scanner. You will receive a receipt, as well as the full amount due next month.”

Max shoved his tablet under the scanner. It was followed by a short beep, meaning the funds had been transferred.

Again, the operator’s fingers blurred across the screen. “Anything else I can assist you with, Mr. Sterling?” he asked.

Max didn't bother responding. Inside, he was fuming. Better to not say anything, or the wrong words might come out... and the now erased skid marks across the linoleum was a good example of what would happen if he lost control. He turned around and headed towards the door.

"Have a nice day!" the operator called after him.

On his way out of Polar-Tech, Max considered walking back to the Pod Hive to save money on a cab fare, but quickly thought better of it. He shook his head, trying to clear the exhaustion and strain from his mind. Now wasn’t the time to start making stupid decisions. The clock was ticking. Max needed to find a way to earn more money... fast.