How she became manager remains a mystery. But there are only two possibilities. One is that Senior Management mistook her tirades for drive and a com… - Max Barry

6 says, “Tina’s doing an arts degree.”
“Oh?” I say, as if the eyebrow ring, blond hair with a streak of black and oppressive eye makeup hadn’t tipped me off.
“Oh, let me guess,” Tina says. “He’s a marketer.”
“Hi,” I say.
…“I hope they pay you well for strangling the youth of this country with cultural conformity.”

There are two ways of looking at Senior Management. One is that it’s a tightly integrated team tirelessly pulling together in the service of whatever’s best for the company. The other is that it’s a dog pack of power-hungry egomaniacs who occasionally assist Zephyr as a side effect of their individual campaigns for wealth and status. Nobody believes the tightly knit team theory anymore. Once, a long time ago, it may have been true, but the instant a dog-pack person made it into Senior Management, it was all over. It’s like a fox getting into the chicken house; pretty soon there are only foxes and feathers. If Senior Management ever was ever made up of selfless individuals who put teamwork ahead of self-interest—and this is a big if—they were long ago torn to pieces.

“Tough day?” General Li said.
John sighed. “Just a couple of Liaisons making trouble. Things were much simpler when I didn’t have to listen to other people, Li. Democracy is a pain in the ass.”
Li sat. “In the military, we have always had a healthy disrespect for democracy.”
“I can see why,” John said. “All right. Now let’s talk about tanks.”