Lobsters and Landmines

by Glen Johnson

  “The top floor is the data entry department. Our customers give us all the information we require to run the most rigorous of tests.”

  The lift was small and completely mirrored. Tim didn’t know where to look. He concentrated on the button panel. Out of the five floors, only four floors had buttons. The fifth floor, right at the bottom level, where the cooling system was located, did not have a button, but required a pass card.

  “I see you have noticed the fifth, bottom level is strictly off limits. Only fully trained personnel can enter that section, where it contains the nine thousand tonnes of water needed for the supercomputer’s cooling system. The water in turn cools the fluorinert liquid, which is a nonconductive liquid which the heat generated computer circuitry is fully immersed.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “It’s a complete labyrinth down there.”

  The lift reached floor one, the top floor, and swished open. They both stepped out.

  “To the left is the data entry. We have nineteen people entering information.” There were shoulder high individual working spaces. The sound of keyboards being struck echoed throughout the floor.

  Tim walked next to Mr. Collins towards the closest cubicle. Inside was a small five-foot-by-five-foot space, with a desk shelf holding the computer and monitor. The staff member – a young-looking woman, with bright pink hair, and a face riddled with metal studs, was busy typing away. She did her best to personalize the tiny space; small fluffy toys and photos covered almost every surface.

  “We encourage our staff to express themselves in their own personal space.”

  The young woman didn’t stop typing, or look towards them.

  “Hello Cathy,” Mr. Collins said.

  “Hi Mr. Collins. I hope you’re well?” She said while still typing.

  “Yes thank you Cathy. How is your mother today?”

  “Good thank you Mr. Collins, I will let her know you asked after her.” Her fingers were still racing over the keyboard.

  Tim looked around. Apart from the personalized, individual cubicles, the rest of the floor was devoid of any personal touches, as if it had been simply picked out of a catalogue. The tiny cubicles were a burst of colour in the dull creams and greys, like small tropical islands.

  “Over here are the managerial offices, and at the end of the floor is the break room and cafeteria.” They walked past large offices, with splendid, expensive plush furnishings. Inside the private offices, managers talked on phones to existing and potential customers. Next to the offices was the boardroom with a long, polished mahogany table, and plasma screens dotted about the walls. At the far side was the break room, which was also the cafeteria.

  “All food and drink on the premises are free, part of the benefits of working for Krysotronic Technologies. You will also be given your packet containing dental and insurance benefits also.”

  The cafeteria was modern and had a clinical, sterile look about it. In one corner, looking completely out of place was a pool table and an old eighties’ classic arcade game, Bubble Bobble.

  “The games are free to play, to help relieve any pent-up stress,” Mr. Collins stated.

  Walking back to the lift, keyboards could be heard clicking, phones ringing, with the sound of voices drifting, making a pleasant white noise.

  After a few silent, awkward moments in the lift, Tim found himself on one of the supercomputer’s main floors.

  “There are forty-three cabinets on each floor. With the server engineers office located on this floor.” Mr. Collins then headed past all the strangely silent black towers, with their blue flashing lights that stood over seven and a half foot tall.

  “Here’s your stop Mr. Parker. I hope you enjoy working for Krysotronic Technologies.” With a final handshake, Mr. Collins simply turned and left Tim stood by a door.

  Tim watched as Mr. Collins walked back to the lift and disappeared inside.

  How strange? Now what? Knock I suppose?

  Tim gave the door a gentle tap. He rubbed one foot against the back of his leg.

  The door swung open, with a large framed middle-aged black man filling the gap. He wore brown corduroy trousers and a brown and white flannel shirt, which he must have ordered from a specialty shop, because of his size. He had thick framed black glasses on and a face that suggested no real discernable features other than lots of space, due to being so big.

  The man looked around, past Tim, as if expecting someone else.

  “Um, hi. I’m Timothy Parker, the new server engineer.”

  “Oh, sorry, I was expecting a package this morning. I thought you might have been Manny, the company’s mailman.” He shuffled to one side. “Please come in.”

  Tim had to turn sideways to walk past the nameless man.

  “Sorry, how rude. I am Dwain Hobkins. I’m the engineer supervisor.” He offered a hand.

  Tim’s hand was completely engulfed by Dwain’s chubby fingers.

  “I take it; you’ll be replacing Peter?”

  “Who?”

  “Peter Lazarus.”

  “Sorry I don’t know any Peter Lazarus.”

  “Peter used to work here, but for some reason, he just stopped coming. Well, actually, he was doing a night shift and simply disappeared.”

  “Really?” Tim was getting nervous.

  “Nothing dodgy or anything like that. It seems the guy just got fed up and left and never came back. Some people can’t hack the boredom.”

  What a strange statement. Why would he be bored while working? Tim thought.

  Dwain used a large arm to point out the room. “That’s where we monitor all the eighty-six cabinets, for temp and productivity.” The room was twenty feet long and ten wide. With obviously no windows, due to being underground.

  “That control panel states the temperature of the cooling water, and how cold the fluorinert liquid is.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “That’s it.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “Tools for fixing problems?” Tim asked.

  “Oh, that would be in here.” Dwain stepped to one side to reveal a large cabinet full of computer maintenance gear. He swung open one of the doors. The equipment looked brand new and unused.

  “But I wouldn’t worry; I’ve been working here since day one, and apart from walking around once every couple of hours, there’s nothing else to do. The computer is so advanced it doesn’t need any attention. We’re kinda here purely for insurance reasons.” He shrugged, as if to say, what can I say?

  There was another knock at the door. Dwain excused himself and answered it.

  Tim took a few more steps into the room. It had a grey thin carpet, with two counters running down along two walls. The longest counter had four keyboards, and twelve monitors attached to the wall in one big block. They all showed the same images, different views of the tall black server towers. Six of the screens had Floor 1 in the corner; the other six had Floor 2. The short counter had three screens attached to the wall, all full of readouts. Against another wall were two single tables. One had computer bits all over it. The other had a desktop setup, with mouse, keyboard, and a big plush seat. All the other three seats around the room were standard office issue, apart from a large, comfortable looking recliner in one corner.

  “Sorry about that. That was Manny, dropping off Edger’s new RAM.” Dwain walked past, over to the desk with all the computer components on. He put the box on the desk. He then settled down into the vast seat, and went back to his game.

  Tim was a little lost. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

  “Um, sorry. What do I do now?”

  Dwain looked over, as if having forgotten he was stood there. “Break times at 10:15, so just relax. Read a book or surf the net. That computer,” he pointed at a desktop on the short wall counter, “is connected to the outside world.” Dwain returned to his computer.

  “Oh, and your hours are on the wall over there,” Dwain pointed a large arm to a cork board. “Your pass cards on there as wel
l.”

  Tim walked over to the board. The small board had a few takeout menus on it, and a photo of a woman who didn’t look like Dwain’s mother or girlfriend. There was a slip with his hours on for the next month. Tomorrow he would do another day of training, and then on Thursday, he would start his first night shift: 8 PM to 5 AM, with a one-hour break, Thursday to Tuesday.

  “I work weekends?”

  “Yeah we all do as some point. There are five of us working here, on nine-hour shifts on and off. We overlap each other’s shift for an hour. All shifts rotate. So next month you may be on day shifts with a free weekend.” Dwain didn’t look up from his computer.

  Tim pulled the sheet off the wall and put it in his briefcase. He also slipped the pass card into his wallet.

  He then walked over and stood behind Dwain, watching the man play Minecraft.

  What the hell?

  “I’m sorry to sound rude, but I don’t get it?”

  Dwain gave him a sideways glance. He then paused his game and swivelled the chair, while readjusting his shirt. He unwrapped a Twinkie, as if he needed the sustenance to continue the conversation.

  “Ok, this is how it works down here.” He took a bite and talked while chewing. “We are not really needed. The computer is so advanced, once it was set going; it will continue for years before needing any maintenance. However, so much money is involved the customers like to see server engineers on the company’s pay slip, and for insurance reasons. Therefore, we are paid good money to keep out of the way. The bosses up stairs don’t care what we do with our time, so long as we stay out of their hair. We clock in. We clock out. We get paid, and they get what they want. Simple.” Dwain screwed up the wrapper and tossed it into a small metal trash can. Tim noticed it was full of Twinkie wrappers.

  Tim wasn’t sure what a real job was like, never having one before, but this didn’t seem like the norm. It just sounded too easy.

  “For real?”

  “For real. Best job you’ll ever have.” Dwain returned to Minecraft.

  Tim meandered over to check the screens out. The twelve screens showed the servers. If it weren’t for the occasional flashing blue light, the images would have looked like static photos.

  I wonder why there are no cameras down in the cooling area?

  The other three screens were full of data. Two full of rolling data, as the servers worked through their programs. The third showed the supercomputers semantics: System Name: Blue. System Family: Krysotronic Technologies. System Model: B computer. Computer: B computer, SPARC64 VIIIfx 2.6GHz, Blue interconnect. Vendor: Krysotronic Technologies. Application Area: Research. Main Memory: 1490048 GB. Installation Year: 2011. Operating System: Linux. Processor: SPARC64 VIIIfx 2000 MHz (17 GFlops). Cores: 806151. Rmax (GFlops): 10640000. Rpeak (GFlops): 11340473.

  Tim was impressed. He knew it was the most powerful supercomputer of its kind, but he didn’t know by how much. Until Blue was created a Japanese firm had the most powerful, called The K Computer, which was four times faster than its nearest competitor, which had a performance of 10.51 Petaflop/s. K Computer was also the first ever machine to cross 10 petaflop performance level. Until now, Blue blew it away.

  Impressive!

  Tim set his briefcase down and settled down at the monitor. There was nothing to do, but he felt like he should be at least looking at some of the screens.

  I am getting paid good money to simply sit in a room and occupy myself for a nine-hour shift. I have died and gone to heaven!

  *

  The next training day went pretty much the same, but this time Tim brought his laptop, and his Kindle Fire. Also Dwain wasn’t around logging Minecraft hours, instead it was Ruo-Jian Chiông, a small Chinese man in his early twenties. He said people called him Ru for short. Ru settled down at his desk to continue building his new desktop computer.

  Tim also found out that the server engineers didn’t like going into the cafeteria, but ordered the food down to their room. He decided they liked to lock themselves away, and because they had such a good thing going, they didn’t want to remind too many people that they were down there.

  On night shifts, the servers still worked, but there was no data input, and no managers, so the cafeteria was closed. However, outside the cafeteria, in the hallway, was a free sandwich vending machine, for the server engineers and the security staff on duty.

  *

  On the third night, his first real shift started. Tim was on his own in the server office. He didn’t have to listen to Ru fumbling with computer parts, or Dwain shouting down his headset at another Minecraft player – or it could have been one of his Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare buddies. Or Neil Moretti, one of the other engineers, who sat in the corner snoozing, he apparently had a night job as well, and slept while at this one. He hadn’t met Alex Shelly yet – the fifth engineer – and didn’t know if Alex was male or female.

  Tim took out his Kindle Fire; he had over a thousand digital books, as well as music, and a couple of movies loaded onto it. He slid out his laptop as well, in case he wanted to spend some time on the Net. The Kindle Fire was internet ready, but he preferred using a keyboard.

  Maybe I will bring in my own desk, or reclining chair like Neil’s. Or maybe take up a hobby? Learn an instrument?

  Tim looked around at the room that he would spend up to nine hours a day in, when he didn’t wander around the two server floors.

  Damn, I am gonna get bored brainless! No wonder Peter, whatever his name was, just up and left; he probably felt like his brain was running out of his ears. Dwain and Ru have the right idea; they have hobbies.

  Tim stood up and walked back and forth, like a caged animal. He stood staring at the unchanging twelve screens, then over to the other three.

  Dull. Uninteresting. Monotonous, but well paid.

  Tim sat down on Neil’s recliner, and tried to read a book off the Kindle. After forty minutes of Bill Bryson’s Walk in the Woods, Tim was bored again.

  I’m gonna get cabin fever!

  He decided to go for a walk around the two server floors. Apart from himself and one security guard upstairs, the building was empty.

  I’ll go stretch my legs and get some sandwiches and a can of Dr. Pepper for later.

  He checked his watch. 9:16 PM.

  Bloody hell, I have another eight hours to go!

  Tim exited the room and headed for the lift. Before long, he was in the hallway outside the cafeteria. He grabbed a BLT and a Coronation chicken sandwich, and two cans of Dr. Pepper.

  As he was walking back to the lift, he decided to wander over to the nearest window. The window looked down over the side of the building to a smaller, squat one-story complex. Tim craned his neck. It looked like a section joined the two buildings together.

  He heard from Ru that the company was well known for its charitable generosity. “In fact,” Ru had stated, “the building next door is also owned by Krysotronic Technologies; it’s a homeless shelter, where the runaways and homeless can grab a meal and bunk down for the night.”

  A covered roof joined the two buildings, with the section going into the ground floor at an angle. Which would take it underground, Tim thought. How strange.

  As Tim stood, chewing a BLT sandwich, with his drink on the windowsill, a light flashed on. A large truck pulled up outside the building next door. Intrigued, Tim stood chewing and watching.

  A large shuttered door rolled up, and the truck entered.

  It is just provisions. Maybe food and clothing for the homeless?

  Nothing else happened for five minutes, and Tim had finished his first packet of sandwiches and drink. He was about to leave when he noticed another light – the tunnel lights had come on.

  As he stretched to look down, the same truck was now rumbling along the tunnel, down under the building.

  Why? And why from next door?

  Tim was many things, but one of the worst things he was, was a Nosey Parker, as his mother always pointed out. As a child, he had to
stick his nose into everything. It was one of the reasons he liked computers; he was always intrigued as to how they worked.

  Maybe it is the specialist Mr. Collins was on about, checking the cooling machines on the lowest level. But why go through the building next door first?

  Tim shook his head, trying to forget the nagging feeling that something didn’t seem right.

  I will just go back to the office and watch the movie Serenity on my Kindle Fire.

  Tim found himself in the lift about to hit his floor button. His finger hovered over the fifth button that was just a blank metal panel. Tim looked around; he had never noticed a camera in the lift before, but then he had never looked for one. There wasn’t one. Curious, he removed his pass card from his wallet and swiped it across the scanner. The light flashed red.

  Damn!

  Jesus, what am I doing? Get a grip.

  Hoping that his failed card swipe didn’t register on a computer system somewhere, Tim started to head back to the office.

  The only sound was the specialized fluorinert liquid gurgling around inside the machine cabinets.

  Tim wasn’t sure why, but he reached out and touched the black casing. Warm!

  What? It should be cold. Very cold! That doesn’t make sense.

  He walked around to the front of the machine. He could see the fluorinert liquid pouring down over the glass faceplate, as it filled the cabinet up. However, just as fast as it filled up, pipes drained the liquid away, to shoot downstairs to be re-cooled and pumped back up.

  Why is it warm? That would destroy the delicate computer components inside.

  Tim checked the whole row out. They were all warm. He ran into the office, and swung open the tool cabinet. He grabbed a rechargeable screwdriver, with a 1.5 hexagon head; he pressed the button to check it.

  Dead! No power! Jesus, has no one ever touched any of these tools before?

  He removed a set of folding Allen keys – which he had to rip the label off, because they had never been used before – and headed back to the closest computer cabinet.

  He stood looking at the back section.

  Should I do this, or should I phone someone up instead? Who? I haven’t been given an emergency number. That’s why I’m here. I’m the one who has to fix any problem that arises.