“Has she complained about me?” Lilah’s heart sank. “I’ve given everything I have. Gosh, I’ve worked so hard.”
He moved next to her and leaned down to catch her eye. “Lilah, you’re doing an amazing job. Every one of us will always tell you that.” He winked as he rose upright. “I’ll be honest and tell you that the Twenty-Five that lives in this timeline may need some time to separate his lust from his respect, but he’ll figure it out if you give him a chance.”
“Why do you all sound like frat brothers trying to get your boy laid?”
“That’s not fair. He won’t be playing you, Lilah. His feelings will be honest.”
He spoke with such passion that she believed him, so she moved on to her next thought. “What deadline? You said it’s a lot to do given the deadline.”
“In a week, the new Twenty-Five arrives, and the to-do list between now and then is crushing.” He counted his way through the tasks. “We need to form a limited liability company. We need to hire an office manager. We need to invite the new Twenty-Five today and buy his plane ticket from California. We need to get him a car and credit card. Then review the upgrade progress out at the warehouse, make some tweaks to the T-box, get more clothes, load the fridge with food…”
He stopped counting. “And that’s just today’s tasks.”
She knew he was joking with that last line, so she didn’t respond. “What does an office manager do?”
“How do the applications look?”
She’d run a help-wanted ad two weeks ago following Ciopova’s instructions. “We have a couple dozen so far, but I haven’t reviewed them.”
“Let’s sit and look through them now. We can bang out an invite to David S. Lagerford of Berkeley while we’re at it.”
Lilah had the applications on her computer. She pulled over a chair, and they sat in her basement cubicle and talked through them.
Twenty-Six explained that an office manager needed discretion above all else. “Someone leaving this job to write a tell-all book about time travelers wouldn’t sit well with us. We’d probably send Forty to reorient his thinking.”
“Forty what?”
“You haven’t met Forty?”
“Oh, Forty.” She nodded now that she understood. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Why send him?”
“When you see Forty showing up on the T-box display, make a point of checking him out in his natural state of arrival. That’s all I’ll say.”
His grin sent her curiosity into overdrive, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask anything more about it.
“For an office manager,” he said, returning to business, “discretion and loyalty are musts. Then we want someone organized, reliable, smart, calm, efficient, creative, knows money, knows the town, knows security, and gets things done.” He put a hand to his chin and rubbed it. “That’s a good start for now.”
“That’s an impressive list. And we’re going to find this rock star with that crummy ad I ran?”
To her surprise, they found three interesting résumés. Twenty-Six pushed her to contact them for next-day interviews. She thought it unprofessional to operate on such a short timeline, but yielded and sent them invitations.
They moved on to drafting Diesel’s recruitment letter. She struggled with the text, trying to make it sound less shady and more legitimate.
“It doesn’t have to be literature,” Twenty-Six assured her. “He’s going to see it as a free trip home. And he’s not exactly swamped with other offers, so he won’t be picky.”
“How many offers does he have?”
“Counting this one? One.”
When they finished for the day, Lilah took a risk. “I’m starving. Would you join me for dinner? I’ll make a salad and you can grill the steaks.”
“I’m so sorry, Lilah. I told my sweetie I’d be home for dinner.” He gave a sheepish shrug. “You’ll find us to be a pretty loyal bunch.”
For some reason she’d expected dinner to be part of their workday and struggled for a response. “It’s an admirable trait.”
“How about if I take you out tomorrow? You’ll have to front me the cash, of course, but all debts will be paid the day Twenty-Five gets here.”
She agreed, but that night she reviewed her financial spreadsheet. Hiring an office manager sounded expensive, and whoever got the job would need money to set up. The bills for the warehouse expansion were mostly paid, but a few big expenses were still to come. Plus, she had ongoing nuisance expenses, like paying for the “brothers’” entertainment costs.
Of the original sum she’d won in the lottery, she was down to about one hundred eighty thousand dollars, which was more than enough to pay for everything in the near term.
The hitch was that Ciopova owed her one hundred sixty thousand dollars in salary for four months of consulting. Her plan had been to have that amount left over at the end of her contracted service so she could make herself whole if the new Diesel tried to stiff her. But if she set aside enough to cover her own pay, then the remainder—twenty thousand—wouldn’t come close to covering the bills, especially with the new activity Twenty-Six had introduced.
And that put her at a crossroads. She could put the needs of the project ahead of her own and spend “her” money keeping it on track, or she could look out for herself and bid Ciopova and the brothers goodbye.
Making dinner that night, she thought through her options. By the time she’d finished eating, she’d reasoned that staying with the project didn’t necessarily mean she was forfeiting her pay. It just meant she was putting herself at the mercy of the brothers to make good on Ciopova’s promise. And indeed, it would be their responsibility because she couldn’t imagine that a college kid from Berkeley had that kind of money.
She finalized her decision the next morning, choosing to split the difference. She’d stay with the project and be as frugal as possible going forward. If she could pay herself even half what she was owed, it would still be a good payday. And maybe the brothers would surprise her and come through with the loot.
Then she considered that it wasn’t just money at stake. She expected access to the AI software and all its improvements when she returned home to Boston. But with different Diesels coming and going, her sense of control over the project had diminished.
She solved that concern by copying everything from the project up to her private server in Boston. Afterward, she set up an automated process to perform the backup operation every midnight.
Twenty-Six returned midmorning, and they went clothes shopping, buying a range of dressy, casual, and athletic pieces. When his selections included sizes that ranged from large to extra-extra large, she expressed surprise. “Do you gain weight later in life?”
He nodded and grinned. “When we turn forty.”
The interviews started midafternoon, and Twenty-Six insisted Lilah talk to each candidate by herself. As he started down the stairs to the basement, he told her, “Talk to all three, and if you find one you like, call me and I’ll meet that one.”
Lilah didn’t have any experience conducting office-style interviews, but Twenty-Six projected so much confidence in her, she agreed to give it a try.
Vance, up first, was a thirty-eight-year-old supervisor at a company that managed several commercial buildings downtown. He projected himself as confident and polite, and his smile lit up his face. He also could not disguise his lust for Lilah.
She hung in there for twenty minutes before giving him the closing line that had been used on her in the past. “Thanks for coming. Do you have any questions?”
During the interview, he’d invited her to go skydiving, to an open-air concert, and to a day of sailing on the bay. On his way out, he made his last pitch. “I’m about to start cooking classes. We should take them together.”
Missy came next. She was a legal assistant who moonlighted as a fitness instructor. Lilah was pulling for Missy and things started well. Then she noticed how often Missy would nod her head and say, “No d
oubt.” Lilah started counting and when she reached twenty, she gave up, thanked Missy for coming, and asked if she had any questions. “No doubt,” Missy nodded.
Justus McGowan came last. A rugged forty-one-year-old black man, Justus worked as a financial investigator.
“I’m like a private investigator, only I specialize in financial issues. My clients tend to be lawyers performing due diligence, like having me check out a small company that a big company wants to buy, that sort of thing.”
“Impressive,” said Lilah. “So the obvious question, why would you apply for this job?”
He shrugged. “Investigations take me around the world and my mom is having health issues. It has me thinking about jobs that keep me in town. I like this one because it offers significant upside potential.”
She frowned, unsure what he meant by the term. He saw her confusion and interpreted for her. “A job where, if it works out, I can make a lot of money.”
“This job?” His response left her flummoxed. “It’s an office manager job.”
“I have this knack for being able to read something and my brain sort of knowing whether it’s important. It helps me in my investigations.” He nodded when he said that last part. “So, I’m scrolling through the job opportunities, and this one ad flashes the words ‘discretion,’ ‘confidential,’ ‘secure,’ and ‘safeguard.’ I look again, and this time I also see the words ‘research,’ ‘scientific,’ and ‘information.’”
“We had those words?” She’d followed Ciopova’s template and couldn’t remember what the ad said.
“You did, and after seeing that, I became curious. As a licensed investigator, I can search all kinds of legal records, so I used my access to pull the financials, permits, and licenses for this outfit.” Justus slumped back in his chair. “And guess what? Bump Analytics doesn’t exist, not as a company, anyway.”
Lilah was too impressed to argue. “We’re putting in the paperwork to form the company this week.”
He nodded. “It’s illegal to have the sign outside before you do that. I mean, it’s an unenforced law, or rarely, anyway. I’m just saying.”
“So you’re here because of the sign?”
He laughed. “No, it was the words in the ad that brought me. I noticed the sign on my way in.” He folded his hands on the table. “But I want you to know, Ms. Spencer, that I will protect Bump Analytics’ new AI. I will keep your secrets confidential.”
Her face got hot as she processed his words. She’d introduced herself as Lilah, not Ms. Spencer. And she’d never even hinted about anything they might be doing here.
“Excuse me.” She rose and stepped into the hall, looking both directions for Twenty-Six. “David,” she called when she couldn’t see him. “Diesel?” He didn’t respond and she paced up and down, then she went back inside.
“Tell me how you know what you do about us,” she demanded. “And about me.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and tapped the screen. “When I dropped my pen out in the hall, I used that as a distraction to take your picture.” He turned his phone so she could see the shot he’d taken of her.
“Then, while I was waiting for the interview to start, I performed an image search and found a Lilah Spencer among the probables. As it turns out, she runs her own tech company in AI product development.” He swiped his phone and showed her a news article he’d found about her. She took the device and started reading.
Justus talked as she read. “Getting a squared-up picture of someone on the fly is something I’ve practiced, and it’s a definite skill. But once you have a decent photo, the search is something most high school kids could do.”
Lilah shook her head. “You’re overqualified for this job. It’s mostly clerical chores, at least to start. You’d go nuts.”
“You wouldn’t believe how much of my current job is copying and filing. If this job has the right upside potential, I’d do it all day long.”
Lilah heard footsteps and raised a finger, signaling for Justus to wait. Stepping into the hall, she saw Twenty-Six. “This guy, Justus, would be really good. He knows a lot about business, and he discovered my background in AI. He wants upside potential, though.”
Twenty-Six nodded. “He sounds perfect. Would you mind if I spoke with him? I’ll try to hire him.”
She pulled her head back. “That was easy.” Then she motioned to the door. “Please.”
Twenty-Six entered the room and shook hands with Justus. “I go by Twenty-Six.” He sat down and waited for Lilah to sit as well, then he had Justus take him through the same story he’d covered with Lilah, up through and including the picture and news article.
“We would like to make you a job offer,” said Twenty-Six. “Since you’ll be handling Bump Analytics’ finances, you’ll know all of our secrets. I’d like to tell you about us—who we are and what we do—but to do that we need a formal nondisclosure agreement. Penalty of death and all that.”
He laid a sheet out for Justus to sign. While the man read it, Twenty-Six said to Lilah in a stage whisper, “I borrowed your computer and printer.”
“How did you know my password?”
This time Twenty-Six leaned over to her and cupped her ear to make it private. “My Lilah told me.”
Justus signed and slid it back across the table. “Might I make a suggestion?”
“Fire away,” said Twenty-Six.
“Let’s settle on a salary first. If we can’t come to an agreement, then you won’t have to tell me anything about your business. That protects you the best way possible.”
“What number do you have in mind?”
“First,” said Justus. “Is what you’re doing illegal?”
“Nope.”
“Twenty-five thousand a month.”
“Done.” Twenty-Six reached his hand across to shake.
Lilah gasped, stunned by the huge salary and the speed with which Twenty-Six was moving. When Justus hesitated, she could almost see him wondering if he’d bid too low. Then he reached across and shook Twenty-Six’s hand.
“Don’t worry,” said Twenty-Six. “You can renegotiate after you hear the story. I’ll let you do that because, except for you two, this is a family business. The family wants you both to be happy and productive. If money helps that, we want to know.”
“That’s very generous,” said Justus. “And I’m curious to hear your story, because nothing in your electronic trail hints at a family.”
“Not a family in the traditional sense, more like a brotherhood. Let me give you thumbnail overviews of two concepts, and we can work to a deeper understanding over time. Sound good?”
“Hit me with it,” said Justus.
“First is the concept of duplicates. We don’t know if it’s freak genes, some sort of scientific experiment, or God knows what, but I have a collection of genetic twins. It’s crazy as hell because some are older and some younger. It’s why we go by numbers, to reflect our age.”
He gestured to Lilah. “As Lilah will tell you, when you work here, you’ll see different ones of us coming and going. From your job perspective, if someone looks like me, just smile and say hi because it’s all okay. If they don’t look like me, though, call the cops.”
Justus nodded. “Duplicates.”
“The other is AI. My brothers had this idea for an intelligent machine that can guess investments with great accuracy. Lilah’s job is to help us make that a reality. Since you keep the books, you’ll see our portfolio grow and grow, so you’ll know exactly how well it works.”
“AI,” he said, though he didn’t nod this time.
“Now, as office manager, you don’t just track investments and keep the books, you do it all. You place orders, pay bills, broker deals, work with banks, arrange travel, look after security. Everything that comes up is your job.”
Twenty-Six folded the agreement Justus had signed and tucked it in his back pocket. “Your first few weeks here will be busy, but then you’ll establish a
rhythm. By the end of the month, you’ll be here in your office for a few hours a day, and out taking care of business for the rest. I’d estimate twenty-five hours total for a normal work week, though you may get called in now and again on short notice.”
Justus watched him but didn’t react.
“So, the final offer is thirty thousand a month, and you are welcome to put as much of that as you want into the investment fund.”
“Can I choose not to invest, to take it all home?”
“Of course. You watch the fund for as long as you want, and if you change your mind, the option is open to you. You’ll understand how sweet that perk is in three or four months. The job starts tomorrow. We have a deal?”
Justus stood. Twenty-Six, two inches taller and twenty pounds heavier, stood as well. Extending his hand, they shook a second time.
Twenty-Six didn’t let go. Squeezing Justus’s hand and staring into his eyes, he said, “We’re paying for discretion. You know that or we wouldn’t be hiring you. Nothing illegal, I promise. But you’ll see some crazy stuff over time. If you feel you need to talk to someone about it, talk to me or Lilah. No one outside, though. Ever.”
He let go of Justus’s hand. “And now that I’ve been an asshole to you, here’s the good news. I’m not your boss. Lilah is for the rest of this week. After that, a guy who looks like me, we call him Twenty-Five, takes over.” He grinned. “See, it’s getting crazy already and we’re just getting started. Anyway, everything we agreed still holds. Write up your employment contract, and we’ll make it official when you start tomorrow.”
“You’re making him write up his own contract?” asked Lilah in disbelief.
“No, I’m letting him. Anyway, employment contracts are an item in the ‘everything’ pile, and his job is to do everything.”
Justus looked from Lilah to Twenty-Six. “I’m sensing this isn’t a contract kind of outfit, so I’m fine with our handshake.”
Twenty-Six gave Justus a tour of the main floor of the row house after that, starting with a large room in the back. “This is your office. Get yourself furniture, art for the wall, whatever you want. Let’s get a big safe for that corner.”
Bump Time Origin Page 5
