by D. B. Goodin
Rick answered the phone on the first ring.
“It’s about time you picked up your phone,” Rick said.
“I don't have hands-free phone access in my car,” Ellen said. “And I’m not engaging in unsafe practices for you.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Rick continued.
“I would like to pick up Ralphie this week instead of next because of a business travel conflict. I have a present for him.”
“Ralphie's birthday isn't until next month.”
“If we don't switch, I will miss it.”
“Okay, we can switch weeks this one time, but don't make it a habit,” Ellen said.
“Great! Thanks, Ellie,” Rick said and hung up.
Ellen noticed a light in the next room. Nigel and Ralphie were probably looking for some dinner. She felt bad getting home late each night this week.
Nigel was making something in the kitchen, and Ralphie was setting the table! She couldn't remember when they last ate together as a family.
“Hey, Mom!” Ralphie said as he put down a stack of dishes.
“What's this?” Ellen asked.
“We’re making dinner for you.”
“You take such good care of us, we thought we would do the same for you,” Nigel said.
Ellen stood in stunned silence.
“Have a seat, Mom.” Ralphie urged her in the direction of the dinner table.
“Smells great! What's for dinner?” Ellen asked.
“Tuna Surprise,” Nigel said cheerily.
About halfway through dinner, Ellen had to say what was on her mind.
“What's the special occasion?”
“Nothing special. We thought you could use a break, and with Ralphie going with Dad this weekend, we thought it would be cool if we had dinner as a family.”
It sounded innocent enough, but Ellen knew her son better than that! She was sure he was up to something, but couldn't figure out what yet.
After dinner, they all watched some television. Ellen couldn't think of a better evening she had had in a long time.
Nigel was ready when Ellen called the boys down for breakfast. Nigel had the application for the work permit ready.
“Do you have to work late again tonight?” Nigel asked.
“Yes, Honey, I need to.”
“I’ve decided to get a part-time job to help with things.”
Ellen said nothing. She just stared at Nigel.
“It would be a help. I could buy stuff for Ralphie and me.”
“Yeah!” Ralphie cheered.
“I don't think it‘s a good idea, Nige,” Ellen said.
“Why not?”
“Because your grades are already suffering with all of the gaming, and I don't want to add to your delinquency.”
“What if I promise to only game on weekends?” Nigel cringed as the words came out.
“That would certainly help your grades, but the answer is still no. I may reconsider if you bring those grades up.”
Nigel looked down and said nothing for the rest of breakfast.
Nigel received an orientation email that provided very specific instructions on obtaining assignments. Although most assignments were given remotely, orientation for the position must be done in person. Each region hosted a quarterly orientation session. Natasha informed Nigel via text that the next scheduled session was this weekend.
“I don't have a work permit yet.”
“Don't worry about the permit for now. You have thirty days to submit it,” Natasha replied.
Rick pulled up at Ellen's house at 5 p.m. sharp. Ralphie jumped into the car. They waved as Rick pulled away.
“I have a surprise for you, Buddy,” Rick said.
“Really? What is it?”
“I will give it to you this weekend.”
When they got to Rick's apartment, Ralphie noticed several packed boxes around the house.
“Are you moving, Dad?”
“Yes, I'm moving away for a new job. Are you ready for your surprise?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“I know your birthday is next month, so I got you something that you could use now.”
Ralphie frowned.
“I hope it's not socks.”
“No, Buddy! Moms get those for birthdays. Dads get their boys cooler things.”
Rick handed Ralphie a small rectangular box. Ralphie looked disappointed for a moment, and Rick thought it was Ralphie’s disappointment of not seeing a game-sized box. But soon, that disappointment swelled into a smile.
“Cool! A phone!”
“A smartphone.”
“Mom was going to get me one later.”
Ralphie just looked at the box.
“What's the matter, Buddy?”
“It's opened. Did you get a used phone?”
“No, Buddy, I opened it so I could set it up for you. I added some games and some apps you need. The phone is not the latest model; you would need to be as rich as Eldon Tage to afford the latest in smartphones, anyway.”
“Oh, okay.”
Since Ralphie was the youngest, he often got Nigel's used things. Rick wanted to get him something new for a change! Ralphie immediately started playing with the device. Two contacts were listed, his mother's and father's, but Nigel's was missing.
“I didn't have Nigel's number; if you give it to me, I will add it to the phone.”
Ralphie gave him the number without a second thought.
“Great,” Rick said as he entered the number and handed the phone back to Ralphie.
Rick got out his phone and checked an app called Central Control Center, or CCC for short. He tapped the red dot labeled “Ralphie” and a menu appeared with several options. He tapped the record option.
Ralphie suddenly exclaimed, “Kenny Cart mobile!” and smiled at Rick.
Rick smiled uneasily back, waited a few seconds, then tapped stop. He immediately listened to the recording so Ralphie couldn’t hear it. “Kenny Cart mobile!” said Ralphie’s recorded voice in Rick’s ear.
Nigel left early Saturday morning. His mother was off that day and liked to sleep in, so he left her a note.
Mom,
I'm going to be at a study group today. Please don't text, as we will need the day for intense study. Should be back before dinner.
Love,
Nigel
Nigel waited at a local coffee shop for the car that was to pick him up and take him to the orientation. Around 7:31 a.m., the car finally came. He had been waiting for over thirty minutes! The car was a black sedan with tinted windows. He could not see inside but had a feeling that he wasn't alone. The driver's side window opened revealing a rather burly-looking man in a black suit.
“Are you Nigel Watson?” the man asked.
“Yeah! What's your name?”
The man looked puzzled. “You can call me Rocky.”
Rocky got out of the car and opened the back passenger door. Natasha was sitting in the back seat. Nigel stared for a long moment, until Natasha patted the seat with her hand.
“Have a seat, Nigel.”
“I wasn't expecting you to pick me up,” Nigel said.
“You've shown much potential. I wanted to make sure you had some time to ask any questions,” Natasha said.
“Oh, that's cool,” was the only thing that Nigel could think to say.
“You must have questions, Nigel,” Natasha said as she rested her hand on Nigel's left knee. Nigel felt all the breath leave his lungs and pulled away reflexively.
“Sure, I have questions,” Nigel finally said. “Why did you choose me? I mean, you must have had more qualified candidates.”
“You did extremely well under pressure and scored in the 98th percentile of similar candidates. I wanted to tell you personally,” Natasha said.
“Oh, that’s nice!”
Nigel was disappointed by his lame answers, but his mind was working at half speed since she put her hand on his knee.
“You will have
a chance to meet other student members as well as helpful staff that will help you with your new role. If you do well with your assignments, we may offer you a permanent position at Collective Systems. Consider this an internship.”
“Can't wait!” Nigel said nervously.
A few minutes later, they pulled up to a very large estate. Nigel caught a glimpse of a stone sign which read “Tage Manor.”
“Is this Eldon Tage's house?” Nigel asked.
“Yes, Mr. Tage is Collective Systems’ largest shareholder. He likes to meet with all new recruits.”
Nigel was treated to a spectacular view of the Tage Manor grounds as the sedan drove past the gate. Many kids approximately his age were getting out of various cars—none as nice as the sedan he was currently riding in. Instead of pulling behind the dozen or so cars that were unloading, the car veered to a side road.
“Mr. Tage is going to meet us at a private entrance,” Natasha said.
Nigel was speechless. He was going to be meeting the richest and most influential person in the greater Milford area. Mr. Tage was a legend in Milford; he was descended from the original founders of the town. He was either a multimillionaire or billionaire, Nigel couldn't remember which.
The sedan stopped at a back entrance to the mansion, no less grandiose than the front.
Nigel stepped out of the sedan. Natasha was just behind him.
“This way,” Natasha said as she led Nigel up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs, two men in butler uniforms opened two double doors in unison. Their timing was impeccable, as both doors were opened with mechanical precision. Nigel and Natasha entered a rather large room that appeared to be a study. Several heavily padded chairs and coffee tables were in the center of the room. Bookcases lined all other walls. Near the fireplace, two chairs were set at an angle so that people in either chair could see the fireplace and each other with little effort. An older man was sitting in a chair on the right side.
“He is waiting for you,” Natasha said.
Before Nigel could say anything, Natasha was gone.
Nigel hesitantly walked up and stood directly in front of the man in the chair.
“Have a seat, Son. My name is Eldon Tage. Welcome to Tage Manor.”
Mr. Tage pointed to the empty chair next to his.
“Can I get you a refreshment?”
“No, ahh...no thanks, Sir,” Nigel said as he sat down.
“You are probably wondering why you are here and not with the others that arrived out front.”
“Yes, Sir. I don't feel like I deserve such treatment,” Nigel said with a nervous smile.
“Nonsense!” Mr. Tage said in a commanding voice.
Nigel immediately straightened in his seat, like he was being scolded.
“Listen here, young man, my time is important. If I called you to my private study, it was for a reason. You will do well to remember that.”
Mr. Tage’s friendly expression changed to something that frightened Nigel.
“You have scored higher than any candidate that I have seen in a very long time. You should know that I have personally met with only one other candidate with your potential. Your ability to reason and put together sequences of numbers is impressive. I'm looking forward to reviewing your work. If you are up to it, I would also like to set you to work on special projects for Collective Systems. You would be paid well.”
“Of course, I’d love to!”
“Excellent. I look forward to our continued collaboration. You will report directly to Natasha. She is the only operative—I mean, employee—assigned to work with you.”
“Thanks for your time, Sir.”
“No, thank you, my boy!” Mr. Tage said as he stared at the flames.
Natasha next led Nigel into the Grand Ballroom, where twenty other students, age sixteen to twenty, were chatting, seated in chairs. Nigel scanned the room for an empty seat, but there were none left. Natasha took a seat near the front of the room facing the gathered students and waved him over. Nigel reluctantly took the seat next to hers.
“Shouldn't I be seated with the students?” Nigel whispered.
“No!” Natasha replied.
The room was silent for several moments. A six-foot-tall man entered the room dressed in a casual suit that looked quite expensive. The students immediately got up and applauded. Nigel started to stand, but Natasha made a motion to sit. The man in the suit addressed the crowd.
“Hello, my name is Alexei Breven. I'm the founder and CEO of Collective Systems.”
The crowd cheered.
“Welcome to Orientation Weekend. You will spend two days of intense training on the processes and procedures of Collective Systems.”
Nigel was alarmed. He left a note to his mother that he was attending a study group, not a weekend retreat.
“My mom thinks I'm gone for the day, not the weekend!” Nigel whispered.
“Calm down. It's taken care of,” Natasha said.
Nigel didn't really hear what Alexei was saying and was totally unprepared for his next statement.
“Now, without further ado, let me introduce a young man who has scored the highest on any Collective Systems exam. Please welcome Nigel Watson, our newest Senior Student Researcher at Collective Systems!”
The students applauded and cheered simultaneously. Nigel was incredulous. He stood and turned toward Alexei, who was waving him over to the podium. Nigel felt like he was walking through mud.
“Say a few words, Nigel,” Alexei said.
“Hello.”
“Tell us how you prepared for the exam?” Alexei asked, smiling at Nigel.
“I treated each module like a game and played until I finished the level.”
“The exam is not a game!” Alexei said, giving Nigel a knowing look.
Nigel immediately felt uncomfortable; he took a deep breath before speaking again.
“I mean, I broke down each module and treated it like a puzzle as I solved it. I just visualized it as a game. I know it wasn’t really,” Nigel said.
The group of students seemed to hang on his every word. No one spoke for several seconds.
“Nigel used his skills as a problem-solver to guide him to the solution. Excellent work!” Alexei praised.
Nigel looked over at Natasha. She gestured for him to return to his seat. Nigel said nothing else as Alexei droned on. He knew he should be listening to perhaps gain a clue as to why he was up here in the first place, but he only heard the quickness of his own breath.
After the assembly, Natasha led Nigel to several other rooms within the manor. In one room, a group of students were working on machine-learning workflow on a whiteboard. Nigel was invited to try and solve their problem. The diagram listed several groups of information. One group was labeled “Filter”; another group of document-looking shapes was labeled “Classifier.” Nigel asked if anyone in the group has considered a Naïve Bayes Classifier Algorithm.
“We have not,” said one of the students. After a few minutes of intense discussion and computer searching, the group said that Nigel solved their problem. Natasha smiled as she led Nigel into another room and another. Each room had a similar group of students trying to solve a problem that Nigel had already solved in school.
“You are a genius,” one student said to Nigel.
“Far from it.”
The rest of the students laughed at his modest response.
At the end of the day, Nigel was led to his private quarters and given back his belongings. In all the commotion, he barely remembered handing them to Rocky. He checked his phone.
“Enjoy the weekend activities,” and “I’m so proud of you,” were the latest messages from his mother.
Nigel was clueless as to why, until he noticed a note left on the desk in his suite.
Greetings Mr. Watson,
I hope this note finds you well and in good health. Due to your recent outstanding scores in a test sponsored by Collective Systems, Inc., we have invited you t
o attend our annual retreat just outside of Milford as our honored guest. Your designated guide will be with you every step of the way throughout the weekend. Depending on your performance, several prizes will be awarded, including a full scholarship to the university of your choice. All students already have an internship at Collective Systems, where valuable work experience will be gained. We have taken care of all the arrangements for the weekend, including parent approval, so you can focus on your tasks.
We look forward to seeing you this weekend.
Regards,
Alexei Breven
CEO and Founder of Collective Systems, Inc.
Nigel awoke Sunday feeling a bit drained. The weekend took a lot out of him, and he still had several questions. The last day was riddled with more tests. More people that Nigel didn't know were present, and everyone kept asking him questions related to machine learning, many of which he didn't know the answers to. It was almost if they thought he invented it!
The weekend finally ended with a dinner. About halfway through, Natasha addressed the crowd of a dozen or so students.
“You may have noticed that there are fewer of you than when the weekend started,” Natasha said. “This weekend was the final test. Those of you remaining have successfully passed and can consider yourselves full interns of Collective Systems.”
Nigel felt both relieved and anxious about this development at the same time. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off. Something had been off this whole orientation.
“Different levels of internships have been assigned. Please open the envelope that is pasted below each chair.”
Nigel felt for an envelope; there was nothing there. Every other student was opening envelopes but him.