[The City that Never Wakes] Wageslave

It would be difficult to summarize Ash's emotional state over the next two weeks. To call it positive would be inaccurate. Her workload continues to keep her up at all hours of the night, a stress exceeded only by the terrors she experiences when she shuts her eyes. The company therapist gives her pills that knock her out and ensure a dreamless sleep, but the last thing Ash needs is another chemical dependency. The company turns the Aggro system back on, and Ash is soon racking up points for every off-color comment. Laura isn't as generous as Mark with absolving her of her score, and soon she's losing free time despite her best efforts. There's no hiding that she isn't carrying her share of the load, and her teammates routinely give her more help than they give each other. Razor was arrested.


Yet, at the same time, the experience isn't entirely negative. Her comrades may think she's one of the slow ones, but she's a part of the team, and she never feels they resent the extra help they give her. Mark may not be her true love, but they fit well together, and the fact that they're sleeping together doesn't overrule her other interactions. And Razor managed to get out of prison with nothing worse than a funny story to show for it—she forgot that she didn't have to hide her face from SIN scanners anymore and got picked up by patrol that saw her duck the sensors.


The first month of her three-month confinement seems to arrive too soon. She's only just started, and already, it's time for the first review. 10% of the class is going to be cut here, and the rest will get some firmly worded suggestions on how best to improve their performance. Ash seems calmer than most, as she makes her way to the review. In a very real sense, she doesn't care about the outcome, and even if she passes, 50% of the survivors are only going to be eliminated at the end anyway.


Still, there's a certain tightness in her chest as she makes her way inside.


"Hello," greets her adviser, as she steps into the little booth. He's an elf, with uncommonly dark hair and a casual manner, the jacket of his uniform casually tossed over his chair. Ash is still rather unclear on how MHR at NeoNET handles data security, but apparently, this meeting is the sort of secret they actually want kept secret, and the privacy booth they're having it in reflects that. There's not much here -- just a table, and two chairs, and the smiling elf across from her.


"I'm Ray. How you feeling today, Ash?"
 
"I believe the conventional answer is 'overworked and underappreciated,'" Ash smiles back, with a small bow - a traditional Renraku courtesy and mark of formal deference that she has not yet found an adequate replacement for in NeoNET's less formalized etiquette.
 
He chuckles, though Ash isn't sure if he's politely laughing at her joke, or actually amused that she bowed. Either way, when she straightens up, he reaches out to clasp her hand in a strong handshake. "Well, in that case, I have terrible news. You get to look forward to two more months of this."
 
Ash lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her heart rate drops maybe half a dozen beats per minute, and her smile widens somewhat.


"That's okay with me. I had sort of resigned myself to it anyway." She takes his seated position as an invitation to assume a seat of her own, straightening out a fold in her jumpsuit as she does so.


When she looks up again, her voice and face are all business, as if the previous jovial moment had never existed. "I gather that this is going to be a good news, bad news talk," she says, her eyes meeting his with a stare that would have been piercing were it not for the total blandness of her poker face. "And since we've already had the good news, I assume it is time for the bad."
 
"We prefer 'commitment to self improvement' to 'bad,'" he says, folding his hands on the table. "Just by being here, you're quite exceptional, and nearly everyone who gets eliminated at this stage is going to be offered another job elsewhere in NeoNET. But, you have the potential to be the best, and that makes you special."


He radiates a certain cheer as he speaks, and a casual familiarity, aided by his lack of notes or other reference material. He seems to speak off the cuff, gesturing a fair amount as he talks. "On that note. How do you feel about Virginia?"
 
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Ash answers without hesitation, and without releasing her poker face. "Virginia is a remarkable woman, both as a person and in terms of what she brings to the team. I am confident that she will be an asset wherever she is deployed in the future. Beyond that, I decline to discuss her in her absence."
 
On the other side of the table, Ray laughs. "Alright, message received. Though for the record, there's no need to be so formal. Her evaluation is already complete and nothing you say here is going to change it. I was just trying to break the ice, as it were." He sits back in his chair, considering her for a moment. "Okay, how's this for a question you might be a bit more comfortable with -- how do you feel about the fact that both of your team leaders so far have been running a Team Management skillsoft?"
 
Ash shrugs, the only gesture or expression she has so far allowed herself since she sat down. "I feel that I have a conflict of interest which precludes me from commenting on our first team leader. In respect of Laura's use or not of skillsofts..." she trails off. "How much of my file have you read? Your level of familiarity with my function at my previous place of employment determines how precisely I can answer your question."
 
"Mmm." He considers Ash's words. "Maybe it would be helpful if I explained where I'm coming from. After careful examination of your file, it's been our impression that there's a few technologies in common use here that you have some personal objections to. Now there are cases where we tell you it's part of working here and you just need to suck it up, but ah... we try to avoid that. After all, nobody wants a job they feel restricts their freedom, and besides, you're a cultural hire. What's the point in that if we don't let you keep as much of your old culture as possible?" He offers it with a reasonable tone, sitting forward with his arms on the table.


"That said, there's definitely some room for productivity improvement here, so I'm trying to sound out the issue a bit. Find the path of least resistance," he pauses. "As it were."
 
Ash nods. "I understand completely. However, the entire subject of skillchipping and hot sim, which I assume is the other technology you are hinting at, touches upon a part of my background which my previous employer viewed as a matter of security concern. Since a part of the purpose of my presence on this program is to evaluate my suitability for a security clearance. I decline to discuss material which I do not believe should be generally disseminated until such time as you have proven to my satisfaction that you are entitled to this information."


"I regret," Ash makes an uncomfortable expression genuine enough to convey the sincerity of her apology, but stylized enough that it is clear that she is not actually in the least bit uncomfortable standing on this principle, "that I find myself forced to take such a formal tone with you. However, once disseminated information cannot be easily forced back into the metaphorical bottle, and as such I see no alternative to a certain level of circumspection."


"It therefore seems to me that we have two options here: We can continue this conversation at a very general, and, I am afraid, not very informative level. Or you can tell me what my job function was at my previous employer, and approximately how our department was organized there, thereby proving to me that you are already familiar with the relevant intelligence, and that you are willing to take full responsibility for the security of our present environment."
 
Ray considers that for a moment, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms as he considers her. Finally, he says: "Well, if I were in the security, I'd probably give you points for that. And credit where it's due, we have had people abruptly fail for saying too much during these interviews. But I'm not in security, and if we're being honest, I'm really just trying to ease you into the list of suggestions I've got to get through here."


He reaches up, scratching his nose briefly. "So, let's make a deal. I'll stop asking questions, and you can... be eased. Relax. All that."
 
Ash nods in understanding, and when she speaks again she allows a dry note to creep into her voice and relaxes her expression a bit. "If you were trying to ease me into the bad news, I think it's fair to assume they won't be very relaxing. But please go ahead." She spreads her arms in an open and inviting gesture.
 
"Well, I've got three things on my list here. Hot sim, skillwires, and cerebral boosters." He ticks them off on his fingers. "Hot sim is the big one, but it's also the one I know you hate, so I was hoping to just foist some literature off onto you so you could make your own decision and save me an awkward conversation. That leaves skillwires and cerebral boosters, which is why I was asking about your team leaders and Virginia. Trying to sound out the issue, you see?"
 
Ash nods. "I suggest we take the three in reverse order, then. On the cerebral boosters, I once made the mistake of calling Virginia's cerebral boost 'performance-enhancing' surgery. I was severely, and rightly, scolded for this: In Virginia's case, the cerebral boosts were not made to enhance her performance, so much as to repair what she herself considered, and considers, a severe, congenital handicap."


She folds her hands in front of her. "Without wishing to unduly belabor my own talents, I am confident that I do not have a cognitive handicap. At least not one that is amenable to corrective surgery. As such, the risk/benefit trade-off of open brain surgery to my frontal lobes is somewhat different." She spreads her arms wide, inviting Ray to take the floor.
 
Ray pauses, smiles at that. It's a different sort of smile than the genetic friendly look he's had before, and it soon upgrades to grin. He seems genuinely amused by her answer, and it's with some energy that he sits forward again. "I'm not so sure it is. Take Virgina as an example. Without her cerebral boosters, she couldn't be here, but her boosters aren't the reason she's going to be continuing with us for the next two months. She's going to be continuing because of her strong social skills and teamworking abilities, talents she most certainly had before. Her implants enable her to play in a field she couldn't play in otherwise, but it's her unique talents that make her stand out."


Ray gestures around the room, as though to encompass the entire building. "Now, don't get me wrong, Ash. You're very smart. But the company didn't hire you for your IQ. They hired you because, in a program allegedly full of security experts, you're the only one who told HR to fuck off when we asked you for sensitive information." He pauses. "Sorry about the profanity there. Skillsoft suggested blunt honesty and I got a bit carried away. Still, point stands."
 
Ash makes a vague don't-worry hand-gesture at Ray's excuse for his profanity. "Meaning no disrespect to this program, Sir, it is not my impression that it constitutes the sole, or even main, benefit Virginia has derived from receiving corrective surgery. Were I asked to make book on the matter, I would not even place it in the top five."
 
"I wouldn't argue any such thing either," Ray replies. "And in fact, I'd say that's supporting my point. Cognitive boosting isn't performance enhancing like cybermuscles or steroids are. We don't want you to do the same things you're doing now just with bigger numbers, and on a personal level, I assume that's not what you want either. Boosts would let you bring your unique perspective to areas which are currently off limits for you—let you make a bigger difference in the world."
 
Ash gives Ray a deadpan stare. "I don't believe that cognitive boosts, on my current baseline, will enable me to do anything I am qualitatively unable to do today. I have seen no compelling examples, nor literature, to suggest that it makes one whit of qualitative difference whether one is at the 85th percentile or the five nines fractile on the Bell curve."


"That being the case, it very much does sound like pure performance enhancement. And that would make that last bit, particularly in the context of the discussion of Virginia's continued presence on this program, a very thinly veiled threat."
 
Ray pauses. Then he interlaces his fingers on the table.


"I'm sensing some hostility here," he finally says.
 
Ash holds out her hands beside her body, palms forward. "The reason I put forth my interpretation so candidly is to give you an opportunity to correct it before it discolors my impression of the rest of your message. I did not mean to suggest hostility, but in such matters I find impolitic candor preferable to polite misunderstanding."
 
He considers that for a moment, resting two fingers on his chin as he considers her. "So, in HR," he starts out of the blue, "we have a system called Wuffie. Which is a little bit like anti-Aggro. We get points for diffusing tension, encouraging company spirit, etc etc. Positive reinforcement, you know? We may take it company wide in a few months, but for now, it's one of our KPI's, particularly for forward-facing positions. So, my score in this meeting is based on a few things, like how good you feel about this meeting after you leave, and how much your performance improves for the second two-thirds of the program."


He spreads his hands, and then gestures at her. "So, my incentive here is to improve your performance in a way that makes you happy. I'm sure there's someone in the company who would like it if I just told you you have to do everything on this list or you're fired, but that guy isn't my boss, so I don't really care. To win this game, there has to be an improvement in your work that isn't tied to a massive spike in stress."


He glances at her, checking her expression. "With me so far? Okay, good. Because here's where we get into the nitty-gritty. My incentives are not the company's incentives. I want you to do better, and it's pretty much linear. I'm not rewarded or punished based on if you make the 50% cutoff in the next round. So I could totally just tell you you're obligated to start using Psyche and watch the points stack up from how much smarter and more chill you are."


He shrugs, slightly. "Unfortunately, I'm not a sociopath. So I actually want to help you here. Not just your numbers. But you're going have to help me help you."
 
Although Ash manages something that is, technically, a smile, nobody whose social graces exceed those of your average abused Doberman would ever mistake it for the real thing.


"I greatly appreciate the information. And aside from the name, which I hope to God is a working title, I think Wuffie sounds much less, well, aggravating, than the Aggro system."


"However," her smile vanishes, "you did not actually correct the interpretation which started us down this train of thought."
 
"I have the power to make unofficial suggestions," he says, "and the power to make official suggestions. Failure to follow official suggestions may be interpreted as intentionally flunking yourself out of the program, leading to all the negative consequences therein. If you choose to interpret that as a threat, you're free to do so, but so far all I've done is made some unofficial conversation. I want to find a set of changes you can work with, not one that has to be imposed."


"Does that help?" he asks, after a pause.
 
"It does, yes." Ash pauses for a moment, and when she speaks again it is in a conciliatory tone. "However, since you have a better idea of what options are available, how about I set out my reservations and the limits I am willing to go to in order to accommodate our mutual interest in my continued presence on this program, and then you fill in the gaps, as it were? Just so we can see how far that gets us."
 
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