The Genesis Code

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The Genesis Code Page 7

by Lisa von Biela


  Sheila shook her clenched fists in frustration. “God damn it!” Maybe OneMarket was secretive for a reason. Maybe they had something going on in that building they were trying to hide. Something that was affecting the health of their employees—something other than just working them to death.

  But if Mark didn’t know or wouldn’t talk about it, what could she do? She turned to the stove and stirred the stew while she tried to think of how she could protect Mark or help him protect himself, if he wasn’t harmed in some way already. They’d lie about his test results if something was wrong; she was sure of that.

  CHAPTER 12

  Terry sat straight, still, and poker-faced. When Reyes called you into his office, it could be good news—or it could be to have your ass handed to you. Rarely in between. In his two years at OneMarket, Terry had found the best approach was to look and act neutral until Reyes revealed his intent.

  Today could go either way. It was near his anniversary with the firm, and so Reyes could have called him in to discuss his promotion. Or he could still be stewing over the outage. Terry knew better than to presume Reyes had completely bought his glossed-over version of the story. The man’s memory for the slightest misstep was legendary.

  Reyes sent off an email, then faced Terry. “Your anniversary is next week. Normally, that’s the trigger for promotion when performance has been satisfactory.” He picked up a stray paper clip from the surface of his desk and started bending it. His hands seemed to be working of their own volition.

  Reyes never fidgeted when delivering even the most difficult messages. Terry wondered why he was tormenting a paper clip today. He already didn’t like the tone of this meeting.

  Reyes continued. “Your performance is just where it ought to be for your level. Certainly no better. And I harbor some doubt that you handled that outage in the most effective manner.” His fingers contorted the paper clip as he glared at Terry. “Do you have anything further to say about that incident?”

  Terry could feel his anger surge; he tried to force it from his mind, to keep control in front of Reyes at all costs. He didn’t want to rat Mark out—partly because it had been an innocent mix-up, and partly because it didn’t matter. He was senior, and would be held responsible for Mark’s errors anyway. “No, nothing I haven’t already said or put in my problem report.”

  “Yes, your problem report. The applications team tells me it lacks key data they need to determine the root cause.” He scowled. “And so here we sit with a known vulnerability that we can’t seem to eradicate. And since we consumed our annual downtime allowance in that single incident, even the slightest recurrence would immediately invoke the financial penalties. How does that make you feel?”

  Reyes’ glare was nearly tangible; Terry could almost feel it drilling through his forehead. “They can’t find the problem, and they’re blaming my report?” Terry heard the fury in his voice, and paused to contain himself. He continued in measured tones. “That report included all the detail that was available. If they can’t find it with that, I don’t know what else I can do except make sure we’re ready to move fast if it resurfaces. Mark set up a new monitoring script to spot anomalies a little further upstream.”

  A smug look crept onto Reyes’ face. Terry silently cursed himself for letting his emotions show. Reyes relished the upper hand, and he’d just surrendered it to him.

  The paper clip snapped in two, startling Reyes as if someone else’s hands had done it. He brushed the pieces aside and refocused his attention on Terry. “The situation is not acceptable. Improved monitoring is better than nothing, but it’s not the answer. We have to identify and fix the problem.”

  Typical OneMarket mentality. Got a problem? Just ask the impossible, and it will be done. Terry wondered what brilliant plan Reyes had, since no one else had come up with the solution.

  “We have decided to promote you—on one condition.”

  Terry took his cue to ask. “And what is that condition?”

  “Your promotion is contingent on finding the root cause of the outage. You will learn the internal architecture of the system, and you will work with and lead the applications team in diagnosing the problem. Eliminate it—and the promotion is yours. This is the number one priority for you and the applications team. They have already been made aware of that. Come to me immediately if you have any resource issues, or if you need any other tools. Understood?”

  “Of course.” Succeed at the impossible, or be terminated. That’s pretty easy to understand.

  Reyes stood. “I hope we meet again soon to discuss the elimination of the problem—and your promotion.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Terry didn’t doubt they’d be meeting soon to discuss something. He just wasn’t so sure it would be such a happy scenario.

  Back at his desk, Terry sat with his jaws clenched, wondering where to even begin. He was still so furious from his meeting with Reyes, he couldn’t yet focus on putting together a logical plan. He’d earned that promotion with his work over the past year. It wasn’t fair for Reyes to withhold it over one incident—an incident he did not mishandle. He shook his head. It wasn’t fair, but he shouldn’t be surprised. OneMarket didn’t pay top dollar for nothing—they expected miracles in return.

  Terry took off his glasses and tried to rub the tension from his temples. A one-time event that left no signature, this outage had haunted him. He’d never been so stumped before. Much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, maybe the time-critical nature of this app was strangling his problem-solving instincts. And the added pressure from Reyes did not help.

  Well, time’s ticking now. He put his glasses back on, took a deep breath, and turned to his computer. With a few mouse clicks, he accessed the internal documentation database to get OMTrade’s technical architecture specifications. He’d never had to delve this far into the application, and he wondered how quickly he’d be able to grasp the details. He opened the document. Nearly a hundred pages just of overview. He hunkered down and started to read.

  “Hey Terry—” began Mark.

  Terry’s jaw tightened again at the interruption. “What do you want?”

  Mark looked startled. “I just stopped by to see if you want to grab some lunch downstairs before the staff meeting later.”

  “I don’t have time for lunch. I don’t have time for anything.” Terry slapped his palm on his desk in frustration.

  “What’s the matter? You had that meeting with Reyes this morning. What happened?”

  “I’m screwed, that’s all. Completely and utterly screwed.” Terry sighed. “Come with me a minute.” He led Mark down the hall to one of the huddle rooms, motioned him in, and shut the door. With a puzzled look, Mark sat at the small table.

  “Reyes is still pissed about the downtime, and so he put me over a barrel. If I want my promotion, I have to find the root cause of the downtime.”

  “But the entire applications team hasn’t been able to figure it out. How are you supposed to?”

  “Good question. Reyes told me the team claimed my report lacked the data for them to trace the problem. He implied I’d left something out, that I must know more than I reported. Which I don’t. So now I need to learn the internals, and work with the applications team to track it down.”

  “But we don’t know what set it off in the first place! For all we know, it may never trigger again.”

  “I know. But that’s not good enough. With those financial penalties, I can’t blame him for wanting a tangible answer. I just don’t know if I can deliver it.”

  “Shit. He’s being unreasonable.”

  “Get used to it. That’s how this place operates. If they want an answer, they’ll get it. Doesn’t matter who they have to burn in the process.”

  Mark looked at him, hesitated, then said, “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “What?”

  “Why did you come here—and why do you stay here?”

  Terry laughed—a short, derisive laugh. “Wel
l, there’s a good question, especially today. I dared myself. That’s how it started. I’d heard about this place and how hard it is to not wash out, and I wanted to see if I could do it. That got me through the first year. Then when they started showering me with the car, the money, it was sort of addictive. So now I’m finishing my second year, and they’re holding back the carrot I’ve earned so they can goad me into finding this problem.” He paused, looked down, and shook his head. “I just don’t know if I have the juice to figure this one out.” He looked back up at Mark. “I’ve never before had a technical problem stump me. Never.”

  Mark sat silent, as if searching for the right words. “I’m sorry. I’ll help out as much as I can…”

  Terry smiled with one side of his mouth. “Hey, thanks. I may take you up on that. I just don’t know where to begin yet. The internals of this thing are so complex. I’m afraid by the time I figure it out, it’ll be too late.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “You know, this fits in with what we were talking about the other day—about the physicals.”

  “What’re you thinking?”

  “The hit list. I’ll bet this is my test to stay or go. They don’t forgive mistakes here.”

  “I hope you’re wrong about that. Seriously, let me know how I can help. I still feel if I’d been more diligent, we might have been able to catch it quicker. Or maybe we’d have had more information so the apps people could have diagnosed it by now.”

  “Thanks, man. Sorry I snapped at you earlier.” Terry stood and smiled, “I’d better get back at it. I need to at least try to figure out a game plan for this.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Mark hesitated as he approached Toni Hanson’s closed office door. Though he was a few minutes early for the checkpoint meeting she’d scheduled, he wasn’t anxious to be there.

  If he wanted help, he’d ask for it. He resented being called to a mandatory meeting just to see how things were going. It smacked of the touchy-feely bullshit he’d always managed to avoid throughout his career. He’d much rather spend the time getting his work done than helping Ms. Hanson check off another name on her list of follow-ups.

  He’d have blown off the meeting if he didn’t have the feeling that it was different here. That if he didn’t cooperate, a shadow would be cast on his performance record and he’d pay for that lack of cooperation at some point. Look at Terry. He’d done the best he could do in an emergency situation, but because he hadn’t pulled off a miracle, Reyes was holding back his promotion.

  Reluctantly, Mark raised his hand and knocked.

  “Come in.” Toni’s cool voice projected through the door.

  Mark stepped inside.

  She motioned with a long, slender finger. “Shut the door behind you, please.”

  He did so and took a seat in front of her desk. She was just as much of a neat freak as Cline. Her desk looked like it never saw disorder on even the busiest day. No stray notes or papers. Everything was in a folder, either in a carefully arranged stack or in a black wire rack to her left. Her office supplies—stapler, tape dispenser, and the like—were lined up next to each other with nearly military precision.

  Unlike Cline, however, Toni’s office was not devoid of artwork. Several Georgia O’Keeffe prints hung on the walls. Though Mark didn’t know the names of the works, he recognized the style. Rather than staying with benign landscapes or buildings, Toni had chosen some of the most suggestive-looking flower images he’d seen.

  Intrigued, he scrutinized her, trying to reconcile her compulsive neatness and icy demeanor with the artwork she had selected to display. She was dressed as smartly as she’d been at orientation. Today she wore a closely tailored black jacket, made of some fabric with a slight sheen. Beneath it, she wore a textured burgundy silk top with a low, rounded neckline. The fabric shimmered in the light as she breathed, distracting him.

  She leaned forward slightly, causing the neckline of her blouse to gape a little. “And how are things going for you, Mark?”

  The vague, psychobabble nature of her question rekindled his resentment. “Fine.”

  She tilted her head. “Just ‘fine’? Can you be a little more specific? How are you adjusting to the workload? Have you been able to keep up with your training?”

  “Yes, I’ve been able to keep up. I’ve been busy, but I can handle it.”

  “Good, good. You’re right about at the six-month mark now. Not everyone hits that milestone here.” She folded her hands on her desk in front of her. “And how are things at home?”

  Mark started to answer, then held himself back. None of your damned business would probably be noted in his file. He struggled to assemble a palatable answer, then simply said, “Fine.”

  Toni placed one slender, manicured finger against the side of her face, seeming to consider her response, then said, “You know, it’s OK to admit the workload is a stressor for you at home. If that’s the case, of course. I’m only trying to help, to make sure you’re not just performing well for OneMarket, but that you’re successfully handling the demands. I need you to feel free to share with me if you’re having any problems, or else I can’t do anything to help you.”

  “I understand.”

  Toni leaned back in her chair. “All right. I’ll schedule another meeting a few weeks out, just to make sure things stay on track. Meanwhile, if there is anything that is bothering or worrying you, please do not hesitate to set up time with me right away. I’ve helped other OneMarket resources work through some tough times and go on to be very successful here. I can do the same for you.”

  She rose to signal the end of the meeting. Mark could see that the rest of her suit consisted of a short matching skirt. She reached over, offering her hand. “Good luck to you, Mark.”

  “Thank you.” When he shook her hand, her warm, firm grip surprised him. A current of heat seemed to travel up his arm. He broke off the handshake as quickly as he could and exited her office before the sensation went any farther.

  He shut the door, closing her away, out of sight. Mark started back to his cube, back to work, trying to ignore what he’d just felt.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Send them in, Madeleine.” Simon Harris released the call button with an angry flourish and waited for Cline and Reyes. Instead of providing him the names he’d requested after they’d met to discuss the Genesis project, they’d dared to stall for time.

  They would not leave his office today without satisfying his request. And their names would be first on the list when he took the pilot to its second stage: downloading not just training materials, but specific instructions. If Tyler could feed Simon’s intentions directly to Genesis units implanted in his entire leadership team, he could run OneMarket remotely and perhaps start a new venture with the extra time he’d gain.

  His office door opened. Cline and Reyes stepped in and took their seats. They both looked pale and apprehensive.

  “Let’s get right to it. Names?”

  Cline and Reyes exchanged glances, then Reyes licked his lips and spoke. “We’ve, uh, discussed the profile of the sort of person you’re looking for.”

  “Names.”

  Reyes flinched as if he’d been slapped, then mustered his words. “My monitoring team is the area where we have the most risk, and the most…opportunity. I have two possibilities there, Terry Simmons and Mark Weston.”

  “All right, then.” Simon stabbed at the call button.

  “But…I can’t take the risk of trying this on both of them at the same time. That would leave OMTrade too vulnerable.”

  Simon took his finger from the button. “Good point. We can’t take another outage like that. So which one is first?”

  “Simmons is in a position to…benefit…the most right now. I just assigned him to find the root cause of that outage—and I’m not certain he’s up to the task.” Reyes stared down into his lap.

  Cline cleared his throat and spoke up. “Besides, he’s been with us for two years now, well past the initial washout p
eriod. The other one, Weston, has only just reached the six-month mark. Toni met with him recently, and he seems to be holding his own for now. Even so, I think it would be more prudent to start with someone who’s made it past that first year.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “We need to understand what’s involved in the procedure, and what downtime to expect. It has to be minimal. I can’t be short-staffed if the outage hits again.” Reyes looked agitated. “And if there are any side effects.”

  “We still need to figure out how we’re going to present this to Simmons,” said Cline, absently picking lint from his pant leg.

  Simon sat back. “Of course, we must be prudent in our planning. Tyler talks a good game, but this is still new ground. And Fred, you’re right. We do need to work through what we’ll say to Simmons. I’ve already briefed Maria; she should be ready to discuss the legal aspects.” He turned to his console and punched a button to speed-dial Tyler.

  “Josh Tyler.”

  “Josh, it’s Simon. I have Fred and Jeff here. We’re discussing Genesis.”

  “Yes?” Though scratchy and distant from the speaker, Tyler’s voice still conveyed zeal at the mention of his creation.

  “We’ve selected the first recipient—Terry Simmons—and we need to discuss the procedure in more detail. Come to my office, please.”

  “Certainly.”

  “While we’re waiting, Fred, let’s start thinking about the approach. We’re not asking consent here, but we can try to make it look that way. Or perhaps we could tell him it’s a condition of continuing his employment.” He nodded toward Reyes. “Especially since you’ve put his promotion on hold.”

  “I’m assuming you don’t want word of this to go outside the company,” said Cline.

  “Damned right. The press always makes OneMarket look like the villain—just because we’re successful. All I need is them latching onto this. And I sure as hell don’t want the competition—especially that bastard Stewart over there at EquityServe—to hear about it.”

 

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