Chapter Six #2
Inside, the space was huge, white, and bright.
The laboratory stretched way back, each subdepartment or project having its own separate offices and work areas.
Overhead, robo guards patrolled on a catwalk.
Working at enormous tables, people in unitards and lab coats perched on chairs reminding her of ejection seats.
If they screw up, do they get shot out of the building?
Some used their hands to create 3D holographic drawings.
Through a wide window, she spotted robos assembling various prototypes.
The lab was a hive of activity and intensity.
Stratos led the way to a propulsion lift that boosted them to an upper level and then strode to a private office marked R the other was defective.”
“Can’t we manufacture those parts ourselves?”
“Yes, but that takes more time. We’re already going to miss the prototype rollout date. Manufacturing the parts will set us back months, maybe more.”
“If we’re going to be late anyway, we may as well accept later and do it right,” he said.
“That was going to be my recommendation.”
“I’ll let you take care of it, then. Keep me updated.”
They left the woman’s office. He dealt with that way more evenhandedly than I expected. He didn’t jump down her throat or anything. Maybe it’s just me he snaps at.
“Kyra has been with the company longer than anybody. She worked with my father. As a child, I’d come to work with him and sit at his feet and play while they designed. She and I share the same vision. There is no one in the company I trust or respect more than Kyra,” he said.
“That’s quite an endorsement.” She wondered why, if the woman had been with the company for so long, she was only a manager, whereas the much younger Stratos had gotten the VP position.
She’d seen the company organizational chart.
The CEO was a woman, as were at least half the vice presidents.
There were as many females working at OberTech as males, so she didn’t think sexism had played a role.
That was further proven to be true as Stratos showed her around and introduced her to R&D staff as he checked in on their projects.
“You’re the new Verilla, huh?” Lead designer Elara emitted a dismissive vibe, like she figured she wouldn’t last—not an unreasonable assumption, given his track record, but it irked her.
“I prefer to think of myself as the indomitable Savannah.”
“How are the robo guards working out?” Stratos asked.
“So far, so good. They haven’t shot anybody.”
Stratos laughed. The rich, warm rumble that came out of him contrasted with his usual cold monotone and transformed his face into a younger, more congenial countenance.
“The robo security force you observed as we came in is Elara’s pet project. She envisioned the idea of using robos for plant protection and is the primary programmer,” he explained.
“That’s impressive,” Savannah said sincerely.
Elara didn’t acknowledge the compliment.
“What timeline have you come up with for the site-wide rollout?” Stratos asked.
“Still TBD. Decision-making programming began but then stalled. Not to point any fingers, but we’re getting pushback from security. We’ve asked for their encounter data logs, but they have yet to send them.”
“They’re probably worried their jobs will be replaced by robos,” Savannah said. “I would be, in their situation.”
“They’re not robos—they’re AI models.” Elara bristled. “They can perform many functions more efficiently and cost-effectively than organic personnel—”
Organic personnel? Like people? How would she like to be replaced by a robo? Maybe she’s already been replaced. Maybe she’s a robot. Cafeteria bots have more empathy than her.
“Particularly low-level, tedious jobs. I can envision application in the administrative sector as well.”
You bitch! She means my position. What is her problem?
“I’ll talk to the VP of site security and light a fire under his ass,” Stratos said.
“Thank you. You’re such a supportive boss.” Automaton Elara lit up with a grateful, adoring smile.
Ah…I get it.
“My assistant is probably right about the holdup. I’ll reassure the vice president the security guards’ jobs are secure, and we have no plans to replace his personnel with robos,” Stratos added.
Elara’s smile dipped.
“Keep me informed.” Stratos announced their leave.
“Nice to meet you,” Savannah said with saccharin sweetness.
“If you need anything from Stratos in the future, don’t hesitate to let me know.
I’ll be your point of contact and will route requests as expeditiously as possible.
” I’ll give you low-level, tedious! She crossed her fingers he wouldn’t contradict her.
“Savannah is the first point of contact,” he said.
She couldn’t prevent a tiny, smug grin at the glimmer of consternation in Elara’s eyes.
Never would she allow personal feelings to interfere with how she performed her job. That wouldn’t be professional. Elara’s requests would be triaged the same as anyone else’s. But it wouldn’t hurt to let her worry a little.
Next, they met with the project lead on the tube trial.
“Early productivity tracking data indicates the tube saves 1.5 manhours per day per individual. For every 8.5 employees, that’s like gaining an additional worker,” the project manager said.
On foot, it took her twenty minutes to get to the cafeteria from the office. Forty minutes round trip. The ride on the tube took less than twenty seconds, a huge timesaver, but she still hated it.
“And usage?”
“That’s the bad news. Usage is below projections. Quite a few employees don’t use it at all.”
“Are there any reports of the tube causing nausea?” Stratos asked him.
“A few anecdotal mentions.”
“Get some hard data.”
“I didn’t think you’d taken me seriously,” she said as they left the area.
“If it involves the company and our projects and prototypes, I will always take it seriously. You may have hit on the reason why usage of the tube has fallen short of projections. If it’s making people sick, they won’t ride it, even if it does save them a huge amount of time.”
He made the rounds introducing her to managers and workers. They were more polite than Elara had been, and they clearly respected Stratos. He engaged them and asked pertinent questions about their projects, some of which she could understand, some of which left her clueless.
They passed by a cubicle with his name. “You work down here?”
“Used to. I started as a designer. They never bothered to remove my name.”
She checked the time. “We’re going to have to leave. You have that meeting with the production manager.”
His entire body seemed to sigh. “Fine. What about the business journal interview?”
“That’s gone. I told them we weren’t going to reschedule.”
“That’s something, anyway.”
“Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t come back to haunt you.”
“As long as it’s not today,” he said.
Her brain felt like her stomach after Thanksgiving—stuffed. She had a much better handle on what his department did. “Thanks for bringing me. It was informative and helpful.”
“Believe it or not, I do want you to succeed. It’s a pain in the ass to keep training assistants.”