neural.coder — chapter 0x00

Geoff still can't find a job

‘Well thank you for your time, Mr. Stalinsky,’ the interviewer stood, not offering Geoff her hand. ‘You’ll hear from us once your application is processed.’

‘Thank you,’ Geoff said, getting up from what he suspected was a deliberately uncomfortable chair. Another screw up, he thought as he left the meeting room and headed for the lift.

It had been an hour-long interview at ElleTek, the fifth interview Geoff had had this week, and it had not gone well. Frustrated, he began to mentally dissect the interview as he stepped into the lift, stabbing his finger into the ground floor button a lot harder than he intended.

It had started well when she’d asked about recent work, and Geoff had explained the project he was working on at home. He’d explained in detail how he’d been developing an ECG scanning device that used deep learning algorithms to record images formed in his brain while dreaming. She’d seemed impressed with that, although he’d not mentioned that he’d given up on it, like all his side projects, there was never enough time.

It all went wrong when she’d asked that stupid “What do you see yourself doing in five years?” question. He didn’t understand why people even still asked that question when the future was so uncertain. Jobs were few and far between, even for programmers with fifteen years experience under their belts. Geoff had been out of work for nearly a year now—since the company he’d worked for had become the latest victim of the energy crisis. It had not been agile enough to adapt before going into receivership.

Economists had warned about peak oil for decades, since the new millennium, more than three decades ago. Humanity had adapted, tightened its belt, gone on an energy diet. Those who had prepared, had survived. They reduced their energy usage, invested in renewables and absorbed the less prepared companies. Some, like ElleTek, swallowed many failures and grew into super-rich multi-national monsters.

So, he’d given a somewhat sarcastic answer to the “five years” question. Something about being more concerned with being able to both eat this week and pay rent at the end of the month. It got worse from there, descending into the farcical when he was asked what he thought his biggest failing was. Honestly, it was a total screw up.

The lift doors opened and he stepped out. ElleTek had certainly profited from adapting early. He’d been too nervous on the way in to truly appreciate the lobby of their London headquarters. It was an opulent combination of polished marble, brushed stainless steel and glass, adorned with hi-tech gadgetry. Geoff doubted he’d ever see it again.

There were slim borderless monitor screens standing proud from the main wall, hovering an inch or two with no visible signs of support. They displayed a menagerie of data dashboards featuring ElleTek’s products and users. So many million users on this service, another million or so here. The numbers constantly changed, responding to the latest data, some going up, some down. One screen showed the total number of employees, static at 245,404. As he turned away to hand his pass pass in at the security desk, the number flickered and changed to 245,405.

Well some lucky bastard’s landed a job, he thought

His phone dinged its text message ding. He plucked it out of the breast pocket of his badly ironed suit and unlocked it. There was a message from “ElleTek Recruitment”. He tapped it open.

ElleTek Recruitment - 09:33:04 2032-06-09 - We’re sorry to inform you that your application has not been successful this time. Please don’t attempt applying for any jobs with ElleTek or its subsidiaries in the future.

‘Damn it.’ Geoff slammed his phone down on the security desk, slightly cracking the screen.

‘You alright’ mate?’, the guard asked.

Geoff looked at his broken phone screen, ‘No I’m not!’ he looked up at the guards name tag, ‘Are you okay… Richard? Mate?’ He grabbed his phone and walked out.

‘Oi! You have to sign out!’

‘No I don’t you officious git. Sign it yourself, I’m sure you’re paid by the hour.’ Geoff said, spinning his way through the revolving glass doors and striding off round the side of the towering office block to the bike stands.

He fumbled with the key in his bike lock, adrenaline draining from his bloodstream. He wasn’t normally so short-tempered—or so rude. The Guard didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that, he was only doing his job. Finally, Geoff got the key to turn, swung his leg over his bike and pedalled off homewards to search for the next interview.

Read chapter 0x01