ShelfLife

by Barrie Seppings

  The two founders stood at the window, high above the city streets, looking down onto the unfinished roof of the office tower under construction next door. It had been growing at the rate of three floors per week and was now only about a hundred feet shy of the incubator floor.

  ‘I didn’t think profits were Ping’s major motivation for Rotronica?’ said Shanti.

  ‘Technically, no. But she still has to hit her numbers if she wants to stay part of this incubator program,’ said Trent.

  ‘There’s no way they’re letting Rotronica go anywhere, Trent. The commercial applications for their neural control network alone are huge. Even Charles is sniffing around trying to grab a slice.’

  ‘Charles is making sure there’s an economic engine underpinning her business model. You couldn’t scale this thing if you were relying on the backing of the big not-for-profits. The lobbying alone would suck up all your time,’ Trent adjusted his cuffs. ‘Look, this soft drink thing is not ideal, but it’s an opportunity. Ping’s smart enough to turn it to her advantage over the long run. If it makes you feel better, the fees from this stunt will cover the vaccines and retrovirals she needs for the field trial she has planned. Not to mention the fuel for the drones.’

  ‘Aren’t they supposed to be solar?’

  ‘The prototypes are rechargeable li-ion. But when she scales up for production some of the fleet will have to use fossils for the heavy lifting. Okay, here they come.’ Trent pointed out the window where dozens of construction workers in bright yellow hard hats laboured on the exposed topmost floor of the unfinished building opposite.

  ‘I can’t watch this,’ Shanti mumbled, but made no effort to move away from the window.

  A small knot of well-dressed people in red hard hats crouched behind a stack of empty pallets on a corner of the roof, out of sight of the workers in yellow hats. One of the red hats yelled into a megaphone, while another trained a video camera on the construction workers.

  A fleet of half a dozen drones swept in from the south, almost level with Trent and Shanti’s eyeline. The drones halted in unison and began their short descent to the workers, small red boxes dangling beneath their spider-like frames. The workers cowered, taking half steps backwards as the drones came closer. A man in a red hat started yelling into a megaphone. The men in yellow hats began waving tentatively at the drones.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ Shanti started in.

  ‘Yes, yes, we see the unironic power imbalance of the signifier and the sign. The symbol of white western imperial power controlling brown-skinned people through fear and desire, something hegemony, something something, liberal arts dissertation. Did I get that right?’

  ‘You’re such a shit sometimes, Trent, you know?’ Shanti narrowed her eyes. ‘But I’m not the first person to tell you that, am I?’

  ‘No, my dear, you are not. But for what it’s worth, I happen to agree with you.’

  ‘That you’re a shit?’

  ‘Funny,’ Trent grimaced. ‘No, I agree that this drone stunt is appalling. Whoever suggested that a western corporation should drop carbonated sugar water onto poor, immigrant labourers thirty storeys in the air via unmanned helicopter drones and call it a friendship delivery is completely retarded.’

  ‘You don’t use the word retarded when you’re giving press interviews, do you Trent?’

  ‘Nope. I’m careful to be politically incorrect only when amongst friends.’ Trent smiled and turned back to the window. The drones deposited the boxes onto the unfinished floor of the skyscraper and ascended again, hovering level with Trent and Shanti once more. The men in red hats gestured for the construction workers to open the boxes and remove the cans of drink. More megaphone shouting. The construction workers turned towards the drones, held their cans aloft and waved cautiously.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Gavin joined them by the window.

  ‘We’re watching Ping’s fleet of drones,’ said Trent. ‘She hired them to an ad agency who are using them to drop free sodas on the immigrant labourers who’ve been building that new office tower across the road.’

  ‘That’s the most retarded thing I’ve seen since I got here,’ said Gavin, pulling out his phone to take photos.

  ‘Dude, we talked about this. You cannot say retarded,’ Trent warned, winking at Shanti. ‘Where have you been, man? I haven’t seen you the last couple of days.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because you were in Bangkok?’ said Gavin.

  ‘Jakarta. And yes, I did bag us a whole bunch of press while I was there. So when you see the traffic spike from Indonesia, you’ll know who to thank,’ Trent took a small bow. ‘I spent some time with your latest batch of newbies before I left. How are they settling in?’

  ‘Pretty good. Except for the part where you borrowed them to handle customer complaints and told them to give away massive discounts on our product,’ Gavin folded his arms.

  ‘What? I’m in trouble for finding a solution to our complaint backlog? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘At what price? At fifty per cent discount, we’ll actually be paying our customers to rent lives,’ said Gavin.

  ‘Relax, man. I stole the idea from Shanti’s pinhead Swedes who used the same technique at Opod. By the time most of theses complainers get around to choosing another life they like, arranging the time off and getting the money together, the discount has expired. The voucher is only good for sixty days,’ Trent put his hand up for a high five. Gavin exhaled, held his notebook up and let Trent slap it. Shanti rolled her eyes.

  ‘Well, I hope none of our complainers has their heart set on becoming an Olympic fencer,’ said Gavin. ‘Because I just signed one up, if you can believe that.’

  ‘So? Don’t we already have a whole bunch of sports stars?’ Shanti turned from the window and shrugged. ‘They all seem to want to get out of the school tours and receiving keys to cities they have no intention of visiting again. What’s so special about this guy?’

  ‘He’s from North Korea.’

  ‘Shut. Up,’ said Trent grabbing Gavin by the arm and shaking it. ‘That is freaking amazing! We absolutely have to have that life on our site. Please tell me you signed him up yourself?’

  ‘I oversaw one of the trainees do it, but he was fine.’

  ‘That life will never work,’ said Shanti. ‘The logistics alone would be a nightmare. And what if a North Korean official found out their hero was a fake for a week?’

  ‘The guy reckons the government Photoshops all ‘national hero’ publicity shots to make them look more like the Dear Leader. No-one really expects any of the heroes to look like their propaganda photos. Our fencing guy swaps roles with his handler all the time, just for laughs. Anyone Korean would probably pass.’

  ‘There’s no way we’ll get our renters into Pyongyang,’ said Shanti.

  ‘Way ahead of you. Found three different travel companies that specialise in arranging tours to the hermit kingdom,’ said Gavin.

  ‘See if any of these tour companies would be interested in putting a package together with our Kim Jong Rapier,’ said Trent, rubbing his hands together.

  ‘Way ahead of you, too. Already got my trainee onto it,’ said Gavin with a grin.

  ‘See, that’s what I’m talking about, Shanti. Finding an opportunity and working it until it comes round to your advantage,’ Trent placed his hands on his hips. ‘I need you to stop looking for problems and start finding solutions.’

  ‘That’s awesome management advice, Trent.’ Shanti turned back to the window. ‘You should get that typeset in all caps under a stock photo of an eagle. Frame it, hang it in the conference room.’

  ‘I just might. How are your latest newbies working out, Shanti? Got them through training?’ An edge had crept into Trent’s voice.

  ‘I sent four of them back, but I’m keeping the other eight. They can code okay, but they need a lot of direction. I wouldn’t hire them if I was paying actual cash for them.’ Shanti watched the workers on the unfinished tower drink cola and
wave at the drones. ‘Which reminds me, do you know how much that egghead economics professor wanted to get paid for the privilege of grinding our rentals approval process into the dirt?’

  ‘You met with him? How did it go?’ Trent turned from the window.

  ‘He asked me to marry him.’

  ‘Shut up,’ said Trent.

  ‘Guy’s so desperate to stay in Singapore, he’ll marry anyone with an employment pass,’ Shanti wrinkled her nose. ‘Why did you think it would be a good idea to ask him to work with us?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Trent. ‘It was Charles’ suggestion. He wants us to show the investors we take risk mitigation seriously.’

  ‘Well ask him if he wants us to take it this seriously.’ She handed him the note Jensen had scribbled in the café.

  ‘Holy shit. Is this his asking salary?’

  ‘He says that’s what he’s paid to consult for the investment co-op.’

  ‘I think that matching algo you were talking about will do us just fine for the moment,’ said Trent, crumpling the note into a ball and flinging it towards a wastepaper basket.

  ‘Check it out, the ad guys are taking the unopened cans and branded chiller boxes back from the construction workers,’ said Gavin, pointing out the window ‘They’re taking back the yellow hard hats as well. That’s pretty cold.’

  Low-key sobbing broke out from the sofa area near the middle of the office. The three founders turned as one to see Ping, face in hands, shoulders shaking.

  ‘I know what that’s like,’ Trent let out a long sigh. ‘You start out just wanting to help people, but it’s so hard to stay on track. You make so many compromises along the way, you can end up pretty lost.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about, Trent?’ said Gavin pocketing his phone. ‘When were you planning on saving the world?’

  ‘He’s romanticising his eighteen months of med school again,’ Shanti folded her arms.

  ‘Almost two full years. Transcripts to prove it,’ Trent shot back. ‘And Gav, don’t tag Ping or Rotronica if you post any pictures of this stunt, OK? That wouldn’t help anything right now.’

  ‘If you’re serious about getting back into the helping business,’ Shanti nodded towards the sniffling, ‘I think Ping could use some of that world-famous Carlisle cheerleading right about now.’

  Trent was already walking, arms held wide as he approached Ping. She looked up briefly before slumping into Trent’s embrace.

  ‘You haven’t been at the apartment much,’ Gavin stepped closer to Shanti. ‘Is everything all right in code-land?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Busy training all the staff the investors sent us. Lots of late nights, I guess,’ Shanti took out her phone and started to scroll through her messages. ‘There’s a gym in the bottom of the building. Showers are nice. Food court across the road. Sometimes it’s not worth going home just to turn around and come back to the office again.’

  ‘You know what they say, all work and no play…’

  ‘Makes for a resilient commerce platform with zero latency that’s practically impervious to identity theft and DDOS attacks,’ Shanti put her hands on her hips and raised her chin. ‘That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, OK. Just saying I haven’t seen you much, lately,’ Gavin thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘Wonder if you’re all right, that’s all.’

  ‘Don’t take it personally, Gavin,’ Shanti placed a hand on his upper arm and looked into his eyes. ‘I’m just focused, okay? My uncle is getting very suspicious. I can’t keep making up stories about why my German employers have transferred me to Singapore. He’s going to want to me back home and working or I’m going to have to send him some serious coin soon. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re still not on salaries, yet.’

  Gavin looked down at his arm and back to Shanti. She realised she had been rubbing his bicep and withdrew her hand like it had been bitten. She looked around for a diversion.

  ‘Look at our fearless leader,’ said Shanti, pointing to where Trent was holding Ping on a sofa, rocking her back and forth. ‘Just when you think he’s all Mr Hardcase-startup-billionaire-boys’-club, he does something nice for someone. The way Ping is starting to talk about him, he might be in danger of acquiring an actual girlfriend.’

  ‘He does seem to have a knack for making people feel good about themselves, doesn’t he?’ said Gavin, jabbing the carpet with the toe of his sneaker.

  ‘That’s one of the first things I noticed about him in London,’ said Shanti. ‘Funny thing is, I don’t think he even realises it sometimes.’

  Gavin let out a low sigh and rubbed his upper arm. ‘A lot of people don’t realise how they make other people feel.’

  Shanti went to say something, but Gavin had wandered off to his workstation, hands thrust deep in pockets.

  ‘Such a child sometimes,’ she muttered to herself.

  ‘My word, did you all see that?’ Charles boomed across the office, holding a drone aloft as he played pied piper to a trail of technicians and coders, wilted yet elated. ‘That shit, as the kids are fond of saying, is about to go viral. Where’s my girl?’

  Trent leapt to his feet and intercepted Charles with a high five, giving Ping a moment to compose herself. ‘Were you up on that unfinished roof in the heat, you crazy Englishman?’

  ‘Ha! Me? Up there? Come off it, matey,’ Charles threw the drone on to the coffee table. ‘No, I stayed at ground zero with the Veep of Marketing. Might have just booked another project without those agency muppets taking their cut. Hello, darling. Congratulations, eh?’

  Ping offered her hand but Charles grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her on her forehead.

  ‘Don’t forget Tran and his team,’ Trent interrupted. ‘Perfect formation flying, guys. Very impressive.’ He put his hands together and got a round of applause going across the floor. Charles waded into the limelight, high-fiving anyone within reach. Trent turned to see Ping mouth a ‘thank you’ as she melted away to the back of the crowd.

  Technicians started detaching cameras and reviewing footage as they slurped sodas and compared notes.

  ‘He looks bloody terrified, eh?’ Charles stood behind a video editor, laughing at the footage of a construction worker smiling and waving nervously at the camera. ‘Let’s not use that shot in the promo video.’

  Trent felt his phone vibrate and moved to a quiet corner of the office floor, pleased to get away from the crowd for a moment. He checked the screen, took a breath and swiped to answer.

  ‘Hey, you must be psychic,’ said Trent perching on the edge of an empty desk with a view of the harbour. ‘I was just thinking about you.’

  ‘Hello, son. Have I caught you at a bad time?’

  ‘Always have time for you, Dad.’

  ‘If only that were true, Trent. Been trying to reach you these last couple of weeks, had almost given up.’

  ‘I know, Dad, it’s just with the time difference and my travel schedule and all the demands of work, I don’t even have time for myself anymore,’ Trent ran a hand through his hair. ‘But that’s no excuse, what’s up?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to tell you this, Trent, but your mother is not happy that you disposed of your Vandten shares.’

  ‘Appreciate the concern, Dad, but this is old news. She had one of her assistants harass me about it weeks ago when I lodged the paperwork with my broker. Anyway, didn’t you tell me to go out in the world and build something for myself? You should be happy for me.’

  ‘Yes, well, I did say something like that, but never intended for you to trade out of the family company. There have been some serious ramifications, I’m afraid. Your mother believes you deliberately sold your parcel to the Onslens. She thinks you’re trying to destabilise the ownership structure.’

  ‘Who the hell are the Onslens?’

  ‘I can’t really give you any more details. If Susan’s counsel finds out I’ve been talking to you, they could implicate me as well. As far as anyone knows, this wa
s just a friendly father and son chat, checking in to see how you’re faring in Malaysia.’

  ‘Singapore, Dad. And I’m doing incredibly well, thanks for asking,’ said Trent, getting to his feet. ‘Our company is really taking off. Investors are very happy, they’ve moved us into the top floor of the incubator, we’ve got about fifty staff, a couple of senior consultants, almost a hundred thousand registered users. It’s really exciting, Dad. And I built it all myself.’

  James Carlisle sighed into the phone. ‘I am proud of you, Trent. I just wish you hadn’t used the company money to do it. It’s causing problems for all of us.’

  ‘Do you have any idea what it takes to scale up a business from nothing? How else was I supposed to build it?’

  ‘Why didn’t you ask us first? We could have arranged an investment loan. I would have given you some money myself.’

  ‘I did come to ask you guys for an investment.’ Trent started pacing by the window. ‘But you know what happened before the meeting even got started? I got fired, Dad. By that fucking slimeball, Jeffrey Small. Then I got thrown out of my apartment. And then he threatened me with criminal charges.’

  ‘Trent, look, I’m sorry but your mother –’

  ‘He threatened to throw me out of the family, Dad. Did Susan tell you that part? He figured he’d already pushed one Carlisle out of the picture, might as well dispose of another one, right?’

  There was no answer.

  Trent stopped pacing and listened. He could hear his father’s breathing, as if he was labouring against a weight that wouldn’t budge.

  ‘Dad? Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I was angry at Jeffrey. And at Mom. How she’s treating you.’

  ‘I have to go now, Trent.’

  ‘Dad, no, wait.’

  ‘Good luck with everything.’

  The line fell silent and Trent clutched the phone as if he were about to snap it. He turned to find a slender girl holding an open folder and wearing a headset.

  ‘So sorry, Mr Carlisle, but I have a message from Mr Archer-Ellis for you,’ she handed him a post-it.