by Dhtreichler
“His admin has to continually remind him to go home and change his clothes.” Mindi shares although she delights in knowing she shouldn’t. “Not sure he ever leaves voluntarily.”
“Kind of like me?” I wink at her.
Mindy is flustered, “Not at all. You’re much more hygienic than he is.”
“You know A’zam and I haven’t…” I purposely don’t finish the sentence because I know she knows what I’m trying to say.
“Really?” Mindi feigns surprise.
“My sense of smell is cranked up there. If he were really as bad as you imagine… well... you know what I mean.”
Mindy is totally embarrassed, probably having thoughts of Landon Bannerjee, my Director of Marketing Communications. But Landon wears a cheap cologne that disguises body odors. So, I’m not sure Mindi would really know what I’m saying.
“Too much information.” Mindi finally redirects me. “So you’re going to see A’zam in his office?”
“Yes.”
“When? So, I can advise his admin and maybe he will actually be there.”
I quickly calculate the immediate tasks I need to do. “Thirty-eight minutes, give or take three minutes.”
Mindi shakes her head at me. Before I transitioned I was infamously late. Now my reputation is that I’m right on schedule. Anyone who makes me wait is not going to like my demeanor when they finally arrive. She looks at the clock, “So nine-eighteen?”
I nod.
“And if he can’t, should I just accept his next free time slot?”
“His time is infinitely more valuable and important than mine, so yes. If we have to move things we will do so.”
Mindi nods, seeks the time slot on A’zam’s calendar and waits to see what kind of response she gets. It’s barely a heartbeat before she announces, “He will be here in two minutes.”
All our planning was for nothing since A’zam was already on his way to see me, regardless of my calendar or whether I was even going to be here.
“A’zam.” I acknowledge as the now immortal Chairman of AppleCore Company enters Mindi’s office which leads to mine. He is running his left hand through his dark wavy hair, an unconscious habit that in the past has indicated he’s not settled on a course of action about something.
A’zam simply observes I am still my immortal self to know he won this round. I did not go back. I am ready to assume the role of CEO of the AppleCore Products Company and he no longer has to worry about the company performance. That’s now my responsibility.
A’zam drops himself in one of the chairs that looks out on the Japanese gardens in the core of this building. A’zam loves those gardens because they are so beautiful and peaceful. I understand his affection for that space, but no longer feel the tranquility I used to experience as I gazed out into the greenery. “We have a lot to do and not much time,” he announces.
No comments on the decision I’d made. It’s almost as if he couldn’t conceive of any other outcome. I had to make this decision. It was the only logical outcome.
“Don’t expect too much.” I advise him. “Transitions always have an impact on productivity.”
“They don’t have to. “A’zam pushes back. “If you explain what’s at stake, our team has always stepped up.”
“Don’t confuse your speed with their speed,” I caution him.
A’zam glances at me but it doesn’t slow what his mind is thinking. He is way beyond the discussion we are having at the moment. I kick my processing speed up. We are now interacting at four times normal processing speed. “You’re too easy on them. If you set expectations low they will never learn what they are actually capable of achieving.”
“Without transitioning they will never be able to keep up even with this conversation let alone working through problems at the speed you and I do.”
“Come on Sage. You aren’t known for being patient. Now is not the time for you to suddenly change into one of those we just left behind.”
“A’zam. Listen to yourself. It’s just you and me here. We haven’t left them behind because we are solely dependent upon them for everything. I know you can go racing off ahead. But don’t. There will be a time and place for you to do that. Now is not that time. Not until we have a cadre of AppleCore leaders able to keep up with us, who can solve problems at our speed, who can react to information much faster than any of the usual process and production people delivering our products to the great unwashed masses who wait for the next message from on high.”
“You’re mocking me.” A’zam is clearly unhappy with me.
“Not you. Just the situation we’re in.” I point out.
“Which is?”
“You and I are running faster than anyone around us. We’re up all night because we no longer need sleep. When everyone else gets in they are already four days behind us. By the end of the week they’re 20 days behind us, and that’s if we slow down to their speed during the day, which I know you don’t. No possible way to catch up. That’s why we agreed we need to bring the section heads up first as immortals and eventually the whole software teams. Everyone needs to get to this clock speed. Until the whole team is up, everyone else is waiting on them. And patience is not your strongest characteristic.”
“I’m hurt. I’m very patient except when it comes to anything important. Then you’re behind when you start because someone else is already working it.”
A’zam gives me the look. He’s checking me out. Of my perfect body he apparently approves. Why wouldn’t he? I’ve not been this slim since I was in college. And that was before I learned about beer and wine, to say nothing of certain drugs. Food? I could never eat in college. If I gained even an ounce I was sure some guy I would want to notice me would just take a glance and think to himself, he can do much better. Looking around, I knew he could so why would I even look at me?
There was a time when if someone gave me that look I’d have a distinct reaction. My memory tries to inform what I should be doing. Getting wet in expectation that he is about to plunge his big harry thing into my warm and welcoming place? That kind of seems right, but it’s all out of whack. I get it. A’zam wants to screw me. But am I supposed to get wet just because he might want to do something even if I’m not really interested or ready at the moment? How does this all work? I used to know when I could pick up on cues better than I can now. I’m sure I’m going to piss A’zam off before I get it right, but he’s going to have to accept the fact that we aren’t what we used to be and how we react is a bit off right now.
I get back to the work dialog. “The first of the new AppleCore immortals arrive on Friday.”
“About time. What has Bart Woodall been doing with our recruits?” A’zam is less than sympathetic or happy about the situation. I should have been prepared for this response, but I’m not.
“Getting it right,” I inform A’zam. “He wants to make sure they don’t go through all the extra effort you and I did because of all the differences between what we were and what we become when we transition.”
“Speaking of the difference, have you had an orgasm as an immortal yet?”
I’m not quite prepared to answer this question, but he’s backed me into a corner I was hoping to stay out of. No such luck. “What the original designers thought an orgasm should be, yes.”
“Doesn’t sound like you were much impressed.” A’zam notes disappointed.
“It’s not ready for prime time. They signed up an old male engineer to design a female orgasm. Now tell me how that makes any sense to you.”
“Perfect sense if you’re engineering it from only one perspective.” A’zam lets me know he understands but isn’t happy I haven’t solved it already.
“I’ve made an initial update to the software, but since neither you nor I have had a chance to try it out, I have no idea if it’s better, a lot better or even worse than the prototype which was totally unacceptable.”
“You’re not giving me much encouragement to find out the an
swer to the question if an immortal’s orgasm is fucking amazing or not.”
“The answer is it’s not.” I assure him.
A’zam isn’t happy about this news. Considers it and then summarizes before moving on. “Well then fix it. And I mean immediately. I’m not interested in you working this for a year or even a month.”
“Understood.” I assure him.
“Now, what about Dr. Woodall. What have you done about getting him to transition his teams so he can transition our teams quicker? He said he could do two a day. If his surgical teams transition they should be able to do eight.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but I thought I am responsible for operations now.”
A’zam looks at me with a strange grin, one I’d not seen before. All my memories fail me in informing me as to how I should react at this moment. The only thing I can think of to do is to wait quietly for him to explain further.
“You are.” A’zam acknowledges. “But you should have anticipated this bottleneck. If we are going to put Symbol Ventures out of business, we have to have a pipeline of new features and products. We only get that if we have people or immortals, as the case may be, capable of out maneuvering them. The longer it takes for us to get those people into place, the greater chance Symbol has of catching us. Not across the board, mind you, but in select technologies. They’re spending a lot of money trying to catch us. The only thing that can keep us in front is our enhanced teams.”
“I understand…” I start to explain, but A’zam cuts me off.
“I don’t give a shit about what you understand.” A’zam approaches and stands with his face not more than a centimeter from mine, looking directly into my eyes. “I only give a shit about what you’re doing about it.”
“You don’t give a shit period.” I pronounce. “Haven’t since you transitioned.” I remind him.
A’zam bursts out laughing. “Damn it. You’re right about one thing. I need to change my similes. No more shit. But as an immortal, what do I care about?” A’zam wonders aloud. “I’d suggest you tell the teams we have to prevail. No more excuses about human failings. We have cured all those. We will deliver what we agree to. We will push the boundaries of what’s possible. We will work together in new and innovative ways to ensure that what we agree to deliver exceeds the expectations of our customers so we never again lose a customer to Symbol Technologies.”
I have not seen a grin like the one A’zam displays. What does it mean? Again, I can’t read him like I used to. He’s no longer feeling things either. So, whatever he displays, it has nothing to do with feelings. It’s all about data. Am I proposing a viable solution he agrees with? Am I credible in what I’m suggesting? Is it likely the results of what I’m proposing will achieve objectives and sales plans for the enterprise? A’zam is betting it will. I’m just a vehicle to his performance. And as an unknown in so many ways, A’zam has no choice but to gamble that I can do what I intend to do. And still that’s not enough. A’zam could fail because I fail. He will have no way of knowing until it is too late. And then what does he do?
A’zam continues after a long silence. It seems like a long silence to me but in fact was probably not more than a second. “You know there will soon be lots of immortals. Each one will believe they could do your job. So if you don’t perform? Well, let’s just say I won’t have to look very far to find someone who will easily replace you, who will deliver what I ask.”
“Why is this conversation even necessary?” I respond, but A’zam doesn’t answer.
THE FIRST EXPLORATION
After A’zam leaves, I continue cruising along at the elevated speed. I only need to slow down when someone comes in or wants to have a conversation. But that isn’t a problem today. Everyone seems to be working their areas. They’re probably afraid to come talk with me expecting they will have difficulty keeping up. Oriana, my software lead and protégé told me the conversation A’zam and I’d had in front of her and several others on my software team, where we forgot to slow down, was all over the company.
Most of the day is taken up reviewing recommendations on new technology we may wish to incorporate in future releases. I’m pushing new product releases so fast now that we have to keep looking for new approaches to solve different problems for our customers. I’ve been lost in thought most of the day when I suddenly realize it is evening. I think about the roses I encounter on my walk back to my apartment. I had looked up information about a few of the different types but decided I want to do the same for all of the other types now, so I can enjoy all of the roses rather than just a few. I would need to do that while it’s still light out so now would be a good time to make the trip home.
The walk doesn’t take long. I assign the task of identifying and looking up the information I want to a background program, so I can have all the information available to me in the morning. In the meantime, I ruminate about the technologies I’d been investigating all day. At first, I don’t recognize the rumpled Jackson Potter, Mayor of Cupertino who is walking slower than I am just ahead of me. He also seems to be lost in thought. As I approach I check to make sure I’m right. When I’m sure I start the conversation, “Mister Mayor. Fantastic evening, just as I’ve come to expect.”
The mayor looks around, recognizes me and the ready smile for constituents appears. “I ordered it up, just for you.”
“I was hoping to run into you again,” I begin, but wait for his response before continuing.
“To tell the truth, I’ve been walking this way more than I used to as well.”
I hear the suggestion of a motivation in his response but decide to confirm rather than just assume and find out I’m wrong. “You don’t look like you need more exercise.”
“I’ve discovered I meet the nicest people when I’m out walking,” the smile doesn’t fade, but it’s hard to know whether it’s genuine or simply well practiced.
“And I learn so much about roses,” I respond, taking in those closest to us. “Like the Sorcerer.”
The mayor seems confused.
“That’s the kind of rose right here. Red. It’s a miniature. Has a distinctive smell, like an old rose garden. What’s fascinating about it to me is that it was derived from two very different parents. One is the floribunda ‘Gingersnap’, a full sized coppery-orange bloom, while the pollen comes from a mini yellow-red bloom known as Saville’s Rainbow End.”
“Oh. Right.” The mayor glances at the rose I’m looking at. “This comes from roses that aren’t red? How is that possible?”
“Recessive genes.” I respond without thinking about it. “You don’t always look just like your parents. It’s always a blend of traits.”
The mayor nods. “High school biology.”
His comment must remind him of something as he gives me the same once over I’d experienced from A’zam just that morning. I see the appreciation in his eyes. He must suddenly feel guilty because he quickly looks back at the rose. “Do you know as much about all of the other roses?” he looks around to see there is a sea of rose beds surrounding us. “I’ve walked this area every day for years. But until I met you I’d not paid any attention to the landscaping.”
“I’m learning,” don’t want to tell him what I’m really doing at that very moment.
“I thought you were referring to yourself when you mentioned sorcerer,” the mayor admits. “You have certainly enchanted me.”
Now I understand his smile is not his political smile, but a genuine reflection of a feeling he is experiencing. I need to remember his actions, reactions and how he phrases his responses. But he isn’t at all interested in what I’m learning from him at the moment. “Would you like to come in? Visit for a bit? I’m sure I voted for you in the last election, but frankly I don’t remember the first thing about you other than you own a machine shop not so far from here and AppleCore is your biggest customer.”
“And I’m the mayor when I’m not selling and making parts for your company and others,” he adds
another fact I do know but had not recited.
“Of course.” I wait to see if he takes me up on my offer.
The mayor glances up at the sky, apparently judging how late it has become. He then looks at me again. “And I know very little about you.”
“Other than I work at AppleCore.” I add.
“And you just got promoted to one of the top jobs.”
I nod although for some reason I have not been thinking about my new role as much as I have been the issues of immortality. “Not as big a deal as it may sound. Just means more hours and less time for play.”
“From what was on the news, it sounds like you have a whole lot more time now that you don’t need to sleep.” So, he has put two and two together.
“Then you know I was dying and if I hadn’t transitioned we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation.” My logic tells me he may not have heard that part of the discussion. It seems most of the journalists ignored it in their reporting.
The mayor nods, but I can’t tell if he really understood that or not. “You’re an immortal. What does that mean?”
He didn’t get the messages I hoped would be conveyed. Just the headlines. “That if you don’t transition to be like me, I’ll still be here long after you aren’t.” I decide to be a bit provocative since trying to be factual, the important information just got lost somewhere.
“Do you have herbal tea? I don’t drink coffee,” the mayor sheepishly asks.
“As a matter of fact…” I nod, smiling again since I’d successfully maneuvered a situation where feelings normally would dictate the outcome.
“You’re over there,” the mayor nods to my condo, “as I remember.”
He accompanies me to the door where the biometric scan recognizes me and lets us both in. He glances around as I kick off my shoes and head for the kitchen. “Chamomile or mint?” I ask as he looks about at my few possessions.
“Not a collector,” he notes. “You have the same footprint I do. Oh, yeah. Mint please.”
I put a cup of water into the microwave and start it up as I hunt for the tea bags. “No, I don’t need more things stimulating memories.”