Page 4 of Technical Advances

“Ani. Need I remind you that you’ve got a team of highly qualified and very well-paid programmers and engineers working on the T-1712’s range-of-motion problem? It’s not something you need to worry about, much less lose sleep over.”

It wasn’t worth arguing with Beck, so I remained silent. He sighed another long-suffering sigh and leaned forward to continue his campaign to get me to pay attention to the folder, the paper folder, sitting on my desk. I went back to typing instead.

“It’s graduation season,” he began. “And we’ve been inundated with resumes. No surprise there. All from impressive schools, all with impressive skills …”

I did acknowledge Beck’s purpose then, interrupting him to do so as I leaned my head around the edge of one monitor to stare at him. “Entry-level employees? That’s what you’ve come to talk to me about?”

“I know. I know. It’s not something you’d normally be bothered with, but you know I like to do a quick review of them before Erin sends them off to the team leads to either reject or fight over.”

“That is generally how things go around here.” It generally did not involve me.

“Yeah, well, when I did so this time, I found this.” Beck stood up and tapped a finger on the folder. I shot him a look, ignoring the paperwork completely and returning to my screens until I found his original email from the night before, entitled “Interesting Resume.”

I’d barely begun scanning it when Beck started in again, dropping back down on the couch with a plunk.

“I know I’m just the business guy and that most of the tech stuff is over my head. But look at that project of his. I’m not wrong, am I? It looks remarkably close to …”

I sat up straighter and tuned Beck out, quickly scanning the resume he was so interested in. The project detail Benjamin Warren had included as part of his application was indeed strikingly similar to something that I had been toying with in my private lab. I absorbed the resume and project summary quickly.

“Do you think we need to …” Beck began, but I interrupted him.

“I went to middle school with a Benjamin Warren,” I said absently as the majority of my cerebral cortex focused on the doctoral candidate’s final project and how it compared and contrasted to mine. For a brief second, I worried that the project was pilfered from me, but I dismissed that fairly quickly. Though the projects were similar, his calculations and patterns were clearly his own work product.

Fond memories, some of the only fond memories of my childhood, also played in a corner of my mind. Memories of another boy my age but one who was much more adept at maneuvering in the microcosm that was middle school in a small town.

“Warren’s a pretty common name, and this kid is just now getting his doctorate.” Beck grabbed the folder. “He’s only twenty-six so definitely not a contemporary of ours.”

“Young for a doctoral candidate,” I muttered before finally looking up at Beck. “Where’s he from?”

“MIT, like you.”

“I mean, where’s home?”

He flipped through the folder. “Huh, Arizona.”

“Like me.”

“Ani. Do we need to be concerned that this kid stole your work?”

I was about to respond to Beck when a call came through on my cell with the ringtone I had set for my mother. Mom appreciated and respected that I wasn’t much of a talker and rarely called me.

“I should take this, Beck.” I waved the phone at him. It was equally infrequent that I answered my phone even for Mom, so I could see Beck’s surprise, but he stood up, tapped the folder again with a look of concern, and took off.

Mom didn’t wait for me to speak after I pressed the green button on the screen. “Hi, honey,” she dove right in. “Do you remember that sweet boy from down the road when we lived out west, Ben Warren?”

CHAPTER 3

BENJI

“So, Benjamin, do you have any questions for me before I take you to meet the head of R&D, Morgan Winkler?”

“Please, call me Benji.” I smiled. Erin had conducted a preliminary interview in her office, and her demeanor and kind smile had eased my nerves though I could still hear the resonance pattern at the back of my brain tapping out a rhythmic chant of the phrase Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

Holy fucking shit. I was sitting in the office of the human resources director for New Day Technologies. All I had to do was not fuck up an interview with the head of research and development, and maybe, possibly, all my dreams could come true.

How soon, I wondered, would it be before I met the man himself? It was possible I was getting a little ahead of things …

Erin nodded but didn’t reply, so I turned on the charm and answered her question directly. “This place sounds amazing. Just one question: when do I start?” I was pleased to have gotten a laugh out of her.