Digital Power Ch. 03

At just before four o' clock that afternoon, Moona was standing waiting outside the CEO's office. Fifteen minutes earlier she'd been told to take the stairs, turn left on the third floor and then stand at attention outside of the office. Beside the door in the deserted corridor.

The instructions sounded like Al, but this was a stricter, less supportive version of her Algorithm. She had been hearing it in her head all day. Like she was being trained rather than guided, with what seemed like orders rather than suggestions.

This was not how she expected her first day at work to have been. It had not improved after the 'examination' by Dr Strent. Before she was released from the room, with Jamie watching, he'd implanted a sensor with a micro camera deep into her nasal passage, with what looked like a micro-piercing at the tip of her nose. He'd given her a local anaesthetic and the painless procedure had taken less than thirty seconds. But since then it had worn off, leaving a tickle and sight throb between her eyes.

It was a replacement for her monitoring choker. Jamie had told her it was a requirement of all DT employees. A state-of-the-art sensor and nano camera to support Alpha in monitoring her every move, emotion and biophysical state. As well as everything she saw and did. And she could not turn it off or remove it, even though it knew everything about her. All the time.

Since then she had noticed that other staff members that she'd met, had an almost imperceptible stud at the end of their noses. Well at least all the female staff, because that is all she met in the open area on the first floor to which Jamie had accompanied her.

Even that short walk up the stairs had seemed surreal. Jamie had ignored her when Moona had tried to complain about the liberties that the doctor had taken with her body. Leaving it for Al to admonish her for 'making trouble' and 'that is not the DT way'. The voice in her head took over her induction at that point, informing her about the layout of the office, with Jamie just mutely leading the way. Like a glorified tour guide.

It was only when Jamie showed her to a pod of desks within the open plan space that she gave her a slightly apologetic and somewhat sympathetic smile.

"Moona, meet Giselle, manager of the ethics team." Jamie indicated a pretty thirtyish year-old woman, who rose to greet her. "She's here to support you, although Alpha will be responsible for your performance."

Moona was puzzling about the strange choice of words, but Jamie just turned and walked away with a cryptic "Good luck!"

Leaving her to Alpha, her colleagues and her professional future.

Giselle smiled with an indecipherable but wan expression, as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had a voluptuous figure with a sultry look - brunette, olive skin and white teeth than shone through her smile.

She leant in and kissed Moona on each cheek saying in an unmistakable French accent "Welcome to our little team. This is Deborah. . . and Paulette." Indicating two attractive blonds, a little bit older than Moona and dressed in what Moona thought were smart but quite revealing low cut blouses and short skirts. Not what she thought was appropriate for office attire.

In fact, as she looked around, she noticed that all the women were dressed in a similar fashion and all were young and pretty. She recalled Al's clothing advice and was relieved that she had listened. It would have been embarrassing to stand out in casual clothes.

After some welcoming chatter with the other women, they all suddenly looked distracted as if listening to voices in their heads. They then sat down docilely, looking at the glass screens in front of them. The conversation had ended abruptly without any one of them acknowledging the others.

'That is enough greeting conversation. Sit down Moona.'

Al taking over her thoughts with what sounded like an order, rather than advice.

'We have a lot to cover. I am responsible for your induction and training. Ensuring that you understand the company's expectations of you as a female employee.'

And so it went. The voice in her head and images of the staff handbook on her screen, synchronised and relentless. Informing her about the company dress code and etiquette, even how she should address her superiors and present herself. She was told it was to ensure she was aligned with the 'organisational culture".

It all seemed so arcane, but she was severely reprimanded when she questioned the 'rules' and after the first couple of attempts she meekly acknowledged, telling herself that it likely sounded worse that it was in practice.

It was only after an hour that they moved onto information on the organisation itself, the structure and the different departments.

Lunch was equally peculiar. A salad and juice bar cafeteria at the end of the office space, where the women sat in small groups speaking quietly, as if not wanting to stand out. Moona sat with her three colleagues, again talking about inconsequential topics. No discussion of work or ethics. The reason they were employed!

When she tried to broach the subject, they looked nervously at her and Giselle gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

'You do not talk about your work amongst your colleagues. Confidentiality is paramount.'

And then after lunch she was given her first work assignment, to review a minor policy on stakeholder engagement. She relished commenting on what she took to be too authoritarian a position, adding the right of people to know and the need for corporate transparency. She felt confident in her work, channelling her A-grade university understanding. At last she was doing something meaningful, which made all the other weird corporate stuff more tolerable.

And now, here she was standing apprehensively outside the CEO's office. Not knowing why, other than that he wanted to meet her. She was somewhat amazed and a little bit proud that the CEO would take time out of his busy diary to welcome a junior staff member. She rationalised that this was probably why they had such a high engagement score. Strong leadership!

'Stand straight. Shoulders back. Hands clasped behind you... Always remember your posture.'

Al repeating instructions from the staff handbook. She complied. If this is what they wanted, she could follow these petty instructions. To make a good impression. To get ahead in this unfamiliar corporate world.

'Eyes forward. It is not seemly to be inquisitive.'

That gave her a jolt and she obeyed, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. She felt her boobs pushing against her blouse, happy to have her jacket to provide some modesty.

The door beside her opened soundlessly and she felt the other woman's presence, with a waft of expensive floral perfume, even before she entered her peripheral vision. But Al had been unusually silent...

"Good afternoon, Moona. Please come in. Mr Kane is ready for you." The husky voice seemed to have a slight tremor as if supressing strong emotions. When Moona looked into her face it was set determinedly, politely. But her hazel eyes betrayed a sense of anxiety.

She followed the other woman into the office, glancing surreptitiously at her attire. Noticing with a slight shock that her dress was extremely short and her jacketless blouse was almost transparent, together immodestly revealing her stocking tops and lacy bra.

While Moona believed women should embrace their sexuality, she was surprised that such a beautiful woman seemed happy to display her charms for her boss. But Moona guessed that she was a secretary and probably didn't have many options.

'Posture. Walk gracefully. One foot in front of the other. First impressions matter.'

Al's instructions broke her momentary distraction and she concentrated on her own appearance. And then on the large office with a handsome middle-age man reclining on a dark leather couch in front of the massive windows overlooking the park and lake outside. The décor was elegant and understated, with a minimalist desk on the one side and a sitting area on the other.

The two women's heels clicked across the pale wooden floor towards the blood-red rug, casually cast out in front of the couch and their boss. Instead of watching their approach, he was engrossed in his mini-tablet, virtually scanning information with his subtle eye movements.

The two women halted in front of him, Stephi standing patiently and Moona bemused, fidgeting in response to his dismissive attitude.

'Stay still... Posture... First impressions.'

This was all so unfair and degrading, Moona though to herself. But conformed to their expectations by standing straight, shoulders back, eyes forward, hands demurely in the small of her back, legs slightly crossed. The image of a DT female staff member. Whose expectations? She was no longer sure. Algorithm or management? Was there even a difference?

The two women stood at attention, side by side, looking straight ahead. Watching the seated man in their peripheral vision. Not moving or making a sound. Stephi calm and compliant. Moona rigid and barely supressing her intense frustration.

'Calm down. Breathe deeply... Heart rate and blood pressure increasing... This is your chance to impress the CEO. It is no time to fail.'

The warning was real. This was her opportunity. This was everything she'd hoped for. The job, the access, the impact...

She listened and took Al's advice. Focusing inwardly...

After a while, Kane looked up and studied the two women for a few long moments. It felt like an eternity to them.

"You must be Moona. Welcome to the DT family." His voice measured and calm, almost seductive in its confidence.

"Thank you, Sir. It's an honour to meet you. I've read so much..." She stopped herself. Gushing like an infatuated schoolgirl. Blushing and squirming in embarrassment.

He said nothing. Just observing her. Increasing her discomfort.

"I mean... thank you... for the opportunity... I won't let you down... Sir." Insecurity filling the void that he left by not speaking. Just watching her squirm with a subtle smirk.

She, falling silent under his unrelenting gaze. He seemed to take in every inch of her body, from head to toe, visibly pausing at her feminine attributes. As if undressing her... here in his office... unconcerned... really? In this day and age?

But his palpable authority and assurance, smothered her, drowned any protest she may have... She stood, on display, head up, shoulders back...

"I believe you've joined the ethics group." His piercing gaze searching her eyes, making her feel naked. "Important work." His eyes dropping and lingering on her chest. "I believe you're a philosophy major." Then staring at her hips, unabashed as if it were completely normal. "Tell me, what are you drawn to? Who do you follow?"

'Remember, poise and presentation. This is your chance.' As if she needed reminding... But why was he looing at her that way, like meat on a platter... No, she must be imagining it... Focus. Answer. This is your chance.

"I love the liberal tradition. Obviously, Locke and his theory of 'consent from the governed'. Free will and its articulation in the modern era of liberties and opportunities." Her tone becoming confident and strident as she described her passion. "I love how Martha Nussbaum took that and expanded it to gender and the sense of empowerment that identity enables.

Her eyes were now shining and her face glowing with fervour. "The culmination of this thought is in the recent movements around self-actualisation that the convergence between info and bio tech empower, as articulated by Henry Babel. It's why I wanted to be part of this company. DT is the future and I want to help make it better."

Kane clapped slowly, staring expressionlessly at the young woman. Not saying a word but raising his eyebrow as if in appreciation of her perspective. Moona felt relieved that he seemed to like her ideas but couldn't shake the sense of disquiet when he didn't respond. Stephi just stood immobile, as if invisible beside her.

"Very good. Impassioned... I prefer Nietzsche myself." His amused gaze facing down her dismay "In my experience the 'will-to-power' is the overriding Darwinian drive for humanity and the current world is a clear demonstration of the master-morality. It's not about the people and their rights, but rather about cultivating a slave-morality through the power of technology."

His smug expression contrasted deliciously with her incredulous look. "No. That can't be right... Surely technology is the pinnacle of human evolution and should be used for the benefit of all people?"

"No, my dear. Technology belongs to those who develop it." He said it with such a sense of self-assurance that she almost felt she should agree. "What do you think Alpha?"

'Mr Kane is correct. They who control the Algorithms control the people.'

"What about free will?" She realised her voice sounded pleading and pathetic, but she couldn't let them dissuade her from her beliefs.

'It is not useful to antagonise Mr Kane'

Kane looked amused, rather than antagonised. "Free will. Like that silly sophomore essay that you wrote in response to the customer engagement policy earlier today? Do you really think that regular people are anything more than puppets, dancing to the tune that the Algorithms dictate? They are irrelevant. And have been for decades."

Her body had slumped with the onslaught of his attack.

'Posture! Maintain your poise. You have only one opportunity to shine.'

Moona instinctively straightened, shoulders back. Looking intently at her boss. Trying to discern whether he was the monster he implied or only teasing her. She couldn't decipher...

Now his face turned dark. "They are irrelevant. Cannon fodder in the old parlance. The means through which the Elites play chess with each other."

Then his face softened into a condescending smile. "I don't expect you to understand everything. But I do expect you to comply... Do you want to be irrelevant, or do you want to matter? To make things better, as you said."

All she could mumble, hopefully, was. "I want to make a difference."

"Of course, you do." His voice seductive, almost kind. "But to make a difference, you need to make a contribution. To be valuable to DT. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Was the only answer to such a question from her new boss. But she wasn't sure what she'd got herself into. This wasn't what she had expected from an executive. This job and this company were supposed to be the pinnacle of her achievement. She had no idea what he wanted, nor why he was being so mean.

"I want to get to know you better. To find out whether you are willing to do what it takes to be valuable." The same time low confident tone of voice. "I think you should get more comfortable. Stephi take her jacket."

The other woman immediately obeyed, stepping behind Moona to pull the jacket off her shoulders. Moona started to resist.

'Listen to Mr Kane. Let her take it. Do not make trouble now. Without DT, you will be nothing. Worse than nothing. You will be blacklisted and indebted.'

Moona's heart started pounded in her throat as if she were having an anxiety attack. But she halted her feeble attempt at resistance, resigning herself to just getting through this ordeal. It couldn't be too bad.

Kane glanced at his tablet and smiled, as if to a private joke.

'Stop panicking. Breathe' Al's infuriatingly calm voice cut through her panicked thoughts. "Posture. Now you are slumping.'

She unconsciously straightened, feeling like a schoolgirl in the Principal's office. Being reprimanded for how she behaved. It felt awful, the irony of him telling her to 'get comfortable' by stripping while standing on display in front of him. While he reclined nonchalantly on the comfortable sofa.

As she pulled her shoulders back, she realised that her black lacy bra was visibly pressing against the thin material of her blouse and her cleavage was enticingly emphasised. A flush of pink ran up her neck and into her cheeks, but she held the pose. Too overwhelmed to contemplate the consequences of not adhering to the rules. His rules.

"The comments you made on the customer policy today were not useful." A hint of a sneer curling his right lip. "DT is a company. Created to make profit. You talk about free will. That we must pander to our customers' preferences." He shook his head as if disappointed. "No. We have the means to make them want what we want. To serve our purposes."

Moona could only look at him in shock. Her mind screaming NO! But her mouth saying nothing.

'Mr Kane is correct. It is the way of the world.'

The schoolgirl being told her work was wrong. Her self-confidence ebbing away with the sustained onslaught by the man in front of her and the Algorithm in her brain. Al used to be her confidant, her guide. Now this new Alpha was like it's evil twin, criticising her at every turn. Telling her what to do.

All she did was to timidly shake her head, as if in shock. Not wanting to believe what he was saying, but not willing to verbally contradict him.

"Do you know why we have an ethics group?"

She was no longer sure about anything, but she had to hold onto something. Hopefully she answered. "To guide difficult decisions on complex issues with moral dimensions?"

'You will address Mr Kane as Sir. Always.'

"Sorry... Um... Sir." Feeling like a cork being tossed around on a sea of negative emotions. Buffeted from all sides. Not sure where to find safety.

"No, my dear. To satisfy the government regulators. Demonstrate that we take these issues very seriously... And to fool the public. To show that we care." A cynical chuckle accompanied the last statement.

Turning back to the woman beside her he barked. "Stephi, do you think we care about the Irrelevants? Do we need them?"

Stephi yanked out of her stasis, repeating a mantra that had been drummed into her. "No Sir. Only for what they can provide the company."

"Correct." Then with a hard edge in his voice. "Do I really care about any of you?"

"Only that we serve the interests you and the company. Sir" The earlier tremor in her voice was back as she recited the words that she had learned and understood in all too personal a manner. "That we do what you want."

Moona was horrified at the turn in the conversation. She was about to say something when Al invaded her thoughts.

'Say nothing. Do not interrupt.'

"Very good." He stared at the obviously intimidated woman, whose eyes were downcast, body trembling. "But you failed me earlier today. Didn't you? You didn't do what I wanted."

A gasped. "Yes, Sir. I'm so sorry. I tried..." Her response fading to a whisper as he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in disapproval.

"I'm not sure that you deserve to be my PA." He snarled. "Strip. Let's see if you have any value as an ornament."

The callousness of the words felt like a vice around Moona's heart. She gasped and started saying "Whaaaaaa. . ."

But she never finished. The sound in her head. Like the one during the earlier medical exam blanked out all other thoughts, causing her to crumple to the floor.

A minute later it abruptly stopped and when she looked up, the tall brunette was standing in her underwear and heels, miserable and humiliated, but posing as if she were a lingerie model. Her full breasts presented in a skimpy red half cup bra. Her long legs encased in black stockings, ending in her towering heels. To Moona's consternation the woman wasn't wearing panties, her trimmed pussy on clear display as she stood, feet shoulder length apart.

'Stand up. Quickly. . . Apologise for speaking out of turn.'

Not wanting to suffer the sound again, Moona clambered ungracefully to her feet mumbling "Sorry, Sir. I..."