by Hank Green
You always want to go into an interview with one or two questions for the people who are interviewing you. It’s a signal that you want to make sure they’re worth your time and talent, and it puts the power a little bit in your hands. Not too much, just enough for them to know that you’re not desperate.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what percentage chance would you guess your business has of not being around five or ten years from now?” I asked near the end of our allotted time.
They both laughed. “Zero,” the business guy said.
I waited for a reply from Dr. Sealy. “Not zero,” he said. “All probabilities are nonzero. But very, very small. This could be a lifelong job if you want it to be.”
“That’s very good to hear,” I said, smelling the hint of truth in my lie.
* * *
—
Interview over, I needed to have a conversation with Dr. Lundgren. If I was going to leave, I needed to know what we were going to do about my research. I messaged her to ask if she could come by my lab station when she was free to talk about something important. I wanted to have the conversation on my territory, not hers. A few hours later, I heard a knock on my counter. That’s how we kept from sneaking up on each other. She looked good.
“Everything OK, Miranda?”
I figured it would be easy to say it all at once, so I just straightened up, looked her in the eyes, and said, “I had a job interview today with Altus. They’re going to call you for a reference . . . probably. I want to talk about what you might say to them.”
“I’m going to tell them the truth.”
My eyes fell, a pit opened up in my stomach, and I slouched into it.
“I’ll tell them that you are a genius scientist and communicator. That you work extremely hard and are passionate and are always solving problems fast and well. I might leave out some facts, like, for example, that you hate them.”
I had never imagined that this conversation would go so well. She looked concerned, but also deeply supportive.
I let out a sigh as my back muscles unclenched, “Thank you, Dr. Lundgren. Oh god, thank you.”
“What are you doing, Miranda?”
“I have to go to Puerto Rico. I can’t not go.”
“Did I imagine talking with you in my office and both of us agreeing that these people are trash people?”
“No.”
“Do you still think they’re trash people?”
“I think that, if I’m not there, they’ll be even more trash.” I was getting defensive.
She was quiet for a second and then pulled up a stool and sat. “I can’t tell you what to do, and I’ll support it, but I need you to tell me why.”
“Whatever they’re doing, they’re going to do it with or without me. Maybe I can have them do it in a less garbage way. And if I can’t, or I find out something really bad, maybe I can tell people about it.”
She was quiet for a really long time.
“Miranda, that is a huge thing you are asking of yourself. I am not young anymore, but I remember being your age, and I am not going to tell you to put a lid on that ambition, but it’s going to be hard to pull against their culture as it pulls on you. It will be very hard not to fall into their version of the story. But what worries me more than that is what happens if they find you out.
“There is a lot of money on the line here, a lot. I don’t know what these people are really like. They could blackball you, you probably wouldn’t ever work in pharma again. Or they could dig up dirt on you, lie about you, maybe even worse things than that.”
I thought back to my job interview. They did not seem like henchmen who would ruin a person for sharing industrial secrets, but I also had never met a henchperson, so what did I know?
“Miranda?”
I must have been zoned out for a second.
“I don’t care.” I did care.
She smiled with a hint of mischief. “Good.”
“Am I getting the job?” I could barely believe that it was a possibility. They had lots of candidates, and they’d find out that I was April’s friend and disqualify me. But Dr. Lundgren was talking about it like it was going to happen.
“I think you are, and I think you’re going to leave. And I’ll keep your lab station open until you come back.”
“What if I don’t come back?”
“Something is telling me you will. But this is going to be hard. Probably much harder than you think.”
It seemed like she suddenly wasn’t just supporting a decision she didn’t necessarily agree with, she was actually encouraging me. That was making all of this feel much more real.
“I don’t know that I’ve even really made up my mind yet.”
“Oh, you have. You just don’t quite know what a made-up mind looks like.”
I didn’t understand what she meant, but I left it alone and said, “I won’t be allowed to tell you what I’m working on. But would it be OK if I did that anyway?”
“That would be a serious crime, and honestly, yes, I want you to do that.”
“What? Even if they aren’t doing anything iffy?”
“Miranda,” she said, leaning toward me, “these people are dangerous and they’re moving too fast. I’m terrified that they’re doing human tests without proper clinical trials. I think they’ve figured out something powerful and dangerous. If I could find someone I want to put that level of faith in, it would be someone like you, not someone like Peter Petrawicki. You have the perfect background. They need people who have worked on neuro-control interfaces and there aren’t that many of you in the world. I think we’re the only ones who can do this.”
“That could end our careers, though. You were the one just telling me how dangerous this is. We could go to prison.”
“I’m ready for the risks. I just wanted to make sure you knew what they were.”
I had known Dr. Constance Lundgren for almost six years now, and this was not behavior I had come to expect from her.
“Is everything OK with you?”
“You think I’m acting strange. Maybe I am. Maybe I’ve been playing it too safe. Remarkable things don’t get done by people waiting for the status quo to crawl along.”
“But we’re not doing a remarkable thing, we’re trying to slow them down from doing something remarkable too fast.”
Her eyes got big, and she literally reached out and grabbed my arm.
“That!” she said too loudly for the conversation, leaning close to my face. “That right there, that is it. You found it in your own mind. That voice that tells you that the only way to do something amazing is if it’s big and flashy and all yours. Turn it off.” She was honestly scaring me a little. Her voice got quiet again, but the urgency remained. “That obsession with impact is an infection and it’s getting worse. Altus wants to make it worse. You’re going to Puerto Rico so that you can protect us from ourselves. Do you know what I think the most amazing thing the human race has ever done is? It isn’t the weapons we’ve built, and it certainly isn’t the weapons we’ve used, it’s the weapons we haven’t used. Idiots like Peter Petrawicki talk all the time about self-control, about how they carry the burden of changing the world on their shoulders. But they do that with an ambition turned in on themselves. They want to be the voice and the face and the mind behind the change. In truth, they have no self-control at all. They are slaves to their ambitions and to their need to feel admired. The truest strength is shouldering the burden of care.”
“Is that a quote?” It sounded like a quote.
“Do you get what I mean?”
“I think I do.”
“What I want to say is that, often, restraint is far more remarkable than action. So don’t let it not amaze you because, Miranda, you amaze me. Start wrapping up your work. You’re going to get that job.”
* *
*
—
While I was waiting to see if that was true, I was lucky to have a new side project. A package had arrived from Maya.
Miranda, the day I texted you about that dress (which I bought, btw) I found something weird. Here is one of them. I don’t even know what to call it exactly, maybe it’s just some plastic costume thing, but I have reason to believe that it’s important. I kept three others here. If there’s anything you can tell me, text me as soon as you know absolutely anything about them, even if it’s just that they’re weird. Anyway, I hope things are going well in California!
Maya
Out of the padded plastic envelope fell a gorgeous hunk of something with a low density and high thermal conductivity. That was strange enough, but there was something different about it that most people would just say was “weird” but that I didn’t have too much trouble putting my finger on: This stuff was hard.
With a few quick tests, I had a range I could place it in. It was less hard than a diamond (which was good, because otherwise I would have had to drop everything and start a lab just to study it) but significantly harder than steel. It was more like high-performance ceramics, except it was definitely not ceramic. After only a half hour of poking and prodding I had plenty of information to text Maya, but I kept poking. Another half hour after that, I realized I was putting texting her off.
I never really got to figure out what that night between me and April meant. It was a onetime thing, but I didn’t know if it was going to stay that way. It was . . . uuggghhh . . . This is all very personal, and I feel weird about talking about it in a story that is about, like, saving human civilization, but it was my first time with a woman. It was a really big deal for me because of that, and also because it was April May. I had never completely gotten over her celebrity. I got the feeling that our night together was not a big deal for April. But I felt like Maya and I should talk it through, maybe? The way she didn’t ever seem open to that made me feel like it was because she had written off any possible real friendship with me.
Anyway, I thought through all our history and then I just swallowed it and texted Maya.
That stuff is weird, too weird. Nothing has been that weird since Carl.
I’m going to keep investigating.
But only because it’s interesting, not because I think I’m going to find out anything that will be helpful to you.
She wrote back a few minutes later.
Thanks. I’m going to try to track down where it came from.
I stared at the text, trying to glean meaning from it. The more time I took, the more it seemed like the kind of text I would write to my worst enemy. After an eternity of staring, I mustered up the courage to text her back.
OK, I’m trying to get a job at Peter Petrawicki’s lab, so if I disappear, it’s probably because I’m in Puerto Rico.
My phone rang immediately—it was Maya. My heart started pounding. This was scarier than interviewing with Altus.
“Hello?” I asked tentatively.
“Explain yourself.”
I did my best to do that. I think I was complete, though I wouldn’t say I was articulate.
“And you think this is the kind of thing that Miranda Beckwith would do?” she demanded. “Or is it the kind of thing April May would do?”
Goddamn, no one had put their finger on that part of it yet.
“I think it’s the kind of thing I’d do?”
“It’s not.”
“But it’s science?” Everything I said was coming out as a question.
“This is about April and that’s fine, but I need you to say that to me.”
“It’s about the science and about April. It’s about figuring out what this fucker is doing and taking him down if I can. And it’s about figuring out who I am and what the world is without her.”
She was quiet for a while and then said, “I think we’re all figuring out who we are without her.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
She replied immediately. “For what?”
Oh god, uh . . . which thing to say first?
“That we couldn’t protect her . . . and also that I slept with her.”
“You hooked up with April?”
My brain was yelling, FUCKING IDIOT! But I replied quietly, “Oh, I thought you knew.”
She laughed. “Jesus. Is that why you’ve been so weird around me? I thought you just didn’t like me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She continued, “Miranda, if I wasn’t friends with anyone April hooked up with in college, I wouldn’t have had many options. The fact that April hooked up with you in no way makes me think less of you. We weren’t together, she’s hot and charming. Do you still have feelings for her?”
“No!” I rushed to tell her. “I mean, I miss her. I don’t know, Maya. I’m just so confused.” My mind was working more slowly than my mouth. “You understand yourself, I don’t even know if I’m gay. Or a lesbian. Or bi? Am I bi? I’m twenty-five years old, how do I not know this about myself!”
When she spoke, which wasn’t immediately, her voice had become so gentle that it almost felt like a different person. “If I were with you, I would hug you so hard right now. I’m sorry. We’re all going at our own speed.”
I was crying now, and through my tears I asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Miranda Beckwith, you take that back. I’m being nice to you because I like you and you’re a good person and we’re friends and we’re both grieving April.” Now it sounded like she was crying too.
“How did we get here?” I asked. “I was just trying to tell you about Altus.”
“Right, well, that is also important. Listen, Peter was always appealing to a lot of people. The thing that he tapped into didn’t go away, it just lost its name. People are still killing each other over this. He’s a bad guy, but he built up his connections and he’s made it into value for himself. But I don’t see what you can do about it.”
“I’m going to go if I can. I have to. But maybe I won’t be able to. I might not get the job.”
“You’ll get the job.” Everyone seemed convinced of this except me. “But look. You’re not April. Don’t take stupid risks like April.”
That made me feel like she cared about me, which made me feel really good. And the fact that it made me feel good made me feel silly for caring so much.
“I am not April. I will not take stupid risks like April.” I was getting better at lying.
@UserUncertain
I cannot tell you anything about Fish except that, at peak, I spent 60 hours a week working on solving it and, even so, I am frustrated I didn’t work harder. This will change the world.
369 replies 4.8K retweets 14.4K likes
MAYA
Helping Miranda was the most normal and wonderful and real thing I had done in months. There is nothing like being needed by someone. Relationship drama? Friends sleeping with exes? That was stuff I had experience with. It felt important but also normal. I think we’re all ultimately searching for normal but important.
Miranda also helped distract me from the new reality I was in. This reality was one where a game called Fish somehow knew where I was and had sent vaguely threatening men to acquire rocks I had bought at a place called Cowtown.
Let’s go back to that day. I was too frightened to go back to my Airbnb, so I just drove around, thinking and worrying. And that’s when I remembered something I had done very intentionally but had completely forgotten about.
I pulled the truck off on a long stretch of road so I could see a good distance both ways, and then I took the business card out of the paper bag that held the rocks.
Kurt Butler
EarthforgeMinerals.com
(856) 294-6319
I’d told Clara to convince Kurt “Probab
ly Has Some Red Hats” Butler that the rocks were valuable and tell him that she would buy as many as he could get his hands on. And if I was right, Kurt Butler would soon be trying to get more of his special rocks to sell. I didn’t want to be anywhere but in a vehicle I could use to drive away from strange men anyway, so I went back to Cowtown.
I waited outside of the entrance, hoping that Kurt had driven his cable repair van so I could spot him. The flea market closed at four, so I was clear until then. I used that time to research Kurt Butler, which was fairly easy even just with a phone. He had a very public Facebook. It was like he had actively turned off every possible privacy setting.
Some posts were about geology and paleontology, and then a bunch of them were about grave internal and external threats to America. So, yeah.
I didn’t really care about his politics, though. I honestly didn’t think Kurt “Very Concerned About the Future of Western Civilization” Butler was some vital part of this story. I just thought he had found some rocks, and I needed to know where they came from, and he sure wasn’t going to come out and tell me.
While I waited, I opened up my podcast app and searched for “Fish Game.” It wasn’t long before I was listening to Fishing with Joe and Tim, which was basically a news service for people who played the game.
I quickly found that it wasn’t like other RGs because you didn’t have to pay for it. It started with a WhatsApp message sent seemingly at random. It requested proof that people had completed a series of increasingly bizarre tasks. The first task was always the same: You had to take a picture of yourself holding a live fish. Then maybe you’d have to record yourself telling a friend you love them or sawing a dictionary in half.
The deeper you got, the weirder the tasks got, and the quieter the people completing them became online. Aside from it being free, it wasn’t like other reality games in two ways: