The receptionist wished her a good day, but she was too far to return more than a thankful wave. She sighed a little when the door closed behind her.
After working in the farthest office from reception for over seven years, Susan had learned to wear only the shortest heels she had. That didn’t prevent her from putting on a different pair of shoes for every day of the week, however. It was one of the few things that gave variety to her work.
“Susan!” a warm voice called from behind her.
Meredith walked up to her with such speed, yet grace, that Susan almost thought she was skating. The two women exchanged a hug in greeting before diving into the latest news.
“Enrollment is up by over thirty percent from last month,” Meredith started, her voice bright with excitement. “We have about the same amount of installations, but that’s kind of where we want to be.”
“Yeah, there’s not much profit to be made from dead customers,” Susan said with a chuckle.
Meredith pulled up her tablet and examined one of the numbers on her records chart. Unlike Susan, Meredith didn’t have a cerebral computer and relied on external devices to manage her work. Still, Susan preferred the monitors and tablets over her internal retina display. She used her C.C. as seldom as possible.
“You know, your department is actually the one with greatest growth,” Meredith told her colleague. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. It’s working.”
Susan beamed with pride.
“That’s wonderful!” she said. “Is it the new model of display? Is that what’s moving the most?”
“Honestly, it looks even across the board,” Meredith answered. “I think it’s the variety, along with the range of prices that draws the attention. You’ve been pushing a lot of the more expensive stuff, I see.”
Meredith took a small sip from her portable coffee cup.
“Yeah, you know, people just love the new projection editions,” Susan said. “There’s something about being able to stand next to an I.I.’s avatar, full size, and see how human they look. It makes the experience so much more ‘real’ for the average customer.”
“Average wealthy customer,” Meredith corrected.
Susan shook her head, a bit of a smug smirk imprinted under her nose.
“Have you taken a look at these newer models for next year?” she asked. She didn’t wait for a reply. “There are so many different versions of the projection, and some are cheaper than you’d expect. There’s this new low-light display they’ve managed to work into a holographic rendering that lets it save an enormous amount of power.”
“Really?” Meredith seemed surprised by the information. “Where’d you hear that?”
“It was a hidden memo. Project leads only.”
“Oh,” Meredith said. Her tone dropped as if she had just been rejected from a cafeteria table. “Well that would be good news. Those things have been energy suckers from the get-go. I know electricity isn’t terribly expensive these days, but it’s still not cheap to replace the power units when they fry themselves.”
“They’ve added some sort of power regulator to help with that, too,” Susan continued. “The low-light displays are supposedly much more interactive, believe it or not.”
“How so?”
“Something about the light beams makes it easier to create a more natural interface. Customers like it so much better when you can gesture through some lights or press a holographic button. They prefer it to interacting with a keyboard or a cerebral computer, if they’re rich enough to afford one. There’s no external accessories required at all.”
“You don’t say,” Meredith said, stroking her chin as if there were a beard there.
“At least that’s what I’ve heard, but I trust my sources.” Susan gave a little titter, then pointed to Meredith’s tablet. “Any interesting new installations?”
Her friend nodded, humor twinkling in her eyes. “As a matter of fact, we got that Daytona guy,” she said.
“Daytona? The lawyer?”
“That’s the one,” Meredith confirmed. “The man on TV promising to protect your patent if you’re an inventor. Stands next to that heap of fake money that falls over onto him at the end of the commercial.”
“What was he doing here?” Susan said. She looked hungry for the gossip, eagerly gripping the strap of her purse like it was the seat belt on a rollercoaster.
Meredith’s mischievous expression before she started the story made it even harder for Susan to bear.
“Well, it just so happens he received a call the other night from some mystery man,” Meredith continued, scooping out each morsel of the story in precise bites for her friend to digest. “It was a voice he couldn’t recognize, and he’s pretty sure it was someone using a modulator. Apparently, this caller told him to watch his back, and that lawyers had a ‘nasty habit of falling into dark holes.’ ”
“Goodness,” Susan commented, raising her hand to her cheek. “And his first move was to come here?”
Meredith started laughing in rapid snorts. “It would seem so. You should have seen him. I swear, he was wearing that same burgundy suit from the ads, though he was a sweating mess, constantly dabbing his face with a little embroidered handkerchief like his life depended on it.”
“So you gave him the installation? What happened next?”
“Well, then he got really shady when we handed him those new Z-8 forms, then—” Meredith said.
“Ugh, people just can’t wrap their heads around those things,” Susan interrupted. “They act like a new form adds fifty miles to their commute. It’s just a simple paper, people!”
“Yeah, Daytona wasn’t really into it,” Meredith said. “He stared down over the form for at least thirty minutes before he even considered touching the pen. Even still, he acted like we were asking him to give away a kidney. All his original nervousness and fright turned to indignation, and he was more eager than ever to leave.”
“Celebrities are weird,” Susan said, shaking her head in befuddlement.
“Pseudo-celebrities are weirder,” Meredith said.
Susan gave a little giggle, then told her friend she had to get started on work.
Her coffee was starting to get cold. She turned her nose up a little when
