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.'
