to Mae. “We’re
so glad to meet you.”
Denise, tall, slim, Asian-American, smiled at Mae and closed her eyes, as if savoring
the moment. “Annie told us all about you two, how far back you go. Annie’s the heart
and soul of this place, so we’re very lucky to have you here.”
“Everyone loves Annie,” Josiah added.
Their deference to Mae felt awkward. They were surely older than her, but they behaved
as if she were a visiting eminence.
“So I know some of this might be redundant,” Josiah said, “but if it’s okay we’d like
to give you the full newcomer tour. Would that be okay? We promise not to make it
lame.”
Mae laughed, urged them on, and followed.
The rest of the day was a blur of glass rooms and brief, impossibly warm introductions.
Everyone she met was busy, just short of overworked, but nevertheless thrilled to
meet her, so happy she was there, any friend of Annie’s … There was a tour of the
health center, and an introduction to the dreadlocked Dr. Hampton who ran it. There
was a tour of the emergency clinic and the Scottish nurse who did the admitting. A
tour of the organic gardens, a hundred yards square, where there were two full-time
farmers giving a talk to a large group of Circlers while they sampled the latest harvest
of carrots and tomatoes and kale. There was a tour of the mini-golf area, the movie
theater, the bowling alleys, the grocery store. Finally, deep in what Mae assumed
was the corner of the campus—she could see the fence beyond, the rooftops of San Vincenzo
hotels where visitors to the Circle stayed—they toured the company dorms. Mae had
heard something about them, Annie mentioning that sometimes she crashed on campus
and now preferred those rooms to her own home. Walking through the hallways, seeing
the tidy rooms, each with a shiny kitchenette, a desk, an overstuffed couch and bed,
Mae had to agree that the appeal was visceral.
“There are 180 rooms now, but we’re growing quickly,” Josiah said. “With ten thousand
or so people on campus, there’s always a percentage of people who work late, or just
need a nap during the day. Theserooms are always free, always clean—you just have to check online to see which ones
are available. Right now they book up fast, but the plan is to have at least a few
thousand rooms within the next few years.”
“And after a party like tonight’s, these are always full,” Denise said, with what
she meant to be a conspiratorial wink.
The tour continued through the afternoon, with stops to sample food at the culinary
class, taught that day by a celebrated young chef known for using the whole of any
animal. She presented Mae with a dish called roasted pigface, which Mae ate and discovered
tasted like a more fatty bacon; she liked it very much. They passed other visitors
as they toured the campus, groups of college students, and packs of vendors, and what
appeared to be a senator and his handlers. They passed an arcade stocked with vintage
pinball machines and an indoor badminton court, where, Annie said, a former world
champion was kept on retainer. By the time Josiah and Denise had brought her back
around to the center of the campus, the light was dimming, and staffers were installing
tiki torches in the grass and lighting them. A few thousand Circlers began to gather
in the twilight, and standing among them, Mae knew that she never wanted to work—never
wanted to be—anywhere else. Her hometown, and the rest of California, the rest of
America, seemed like some chaotic mess in the developing world. Outside the walls
of the Circle, all was noise and struggle, failure and filth. But here, all had been
perfected. The best people had made the best systems and the best systems had reaped
funds, unlimited funds, that made possible this, the best place to work. And it was
natural that it was so, Mae thought. Who else but utopians could make
so glad to meet you.”
Denise, tall, slim, Asian-American, smiled at Mae and closed her eyes, as if savoring
the moment. “Annie told us all about you two, how far back you go. Annie’s the heart
and soul of this place, so we’re very lucky to have you here.”
“Everyone loves Annie,” Josiah added.
Their deference to Mae felt awkward. They were surely older than her, but they behaved
as if she were a visiting eminence.
“So I know some of this might be redundant,” Josiah said, “but if it’s okay we’d like
to give you the full newcomer tour. Would that be okay? We promise not to make it
lame.”
Mae laughed, urged them on, and followed.
The rest of the day was a blur of glass rooms and brief, impossibly warm introductions.
Everyone she met was busy, just short of overworked, but nevertheless thrilled to
meet her, so happy she was there, any friend of Annie’s … There was a tour of the
health center, and an introduction to the dreadlocked Dr. Hampton who ran it. There
was a tour of the emergency clinic and the Scottish nurse who did the admitting. A
tour of the organic gardens, a hundred yards square, where there were two full-time
farmers giving a talk to a large group of Circlers while they sampled the latest harvest
of carrots and tomatoes and kale. There was a tour of the mini-golf area, the movie
theater, the bowling alleys, the grocery store. Finally, deep in what Mae assumed
was the corner of the campus—she could see the fence beyond, the rooftops of San Vincenzo
hotels where visitors to the Circle stayed—they toured the company dorms. Mae had
heard something about them, Annie mentioning that sometimes she crashed on campus
and now preferred those rooms to her own home. Walking through the hallways, seeing
the tidy rooms, each with a shiny kitchenette, a desk, an overstuffed couch and bed,
Mae had to agree that the appeal was visceral.
“There are 180 rooms now, but we’re growing quickly,” Josiah said. “With ten thousand
or so people on campus, there’s always a percentage of people who work late, or just
need a nap during the day. Theserooms are always free, always clean—you just have to check online to see which ones
are available. Right now they book up fast, but the plan is to have at least a few
thousand rooms within the next few years.”
“And after a party like tonight’s, these are always full,” Denise said, with what
she meant to be a conspiratorial wink.
The tour continued through the afternoon, with stops to sample food at the culinary
class, taught that day by a celebrated young chef known for using the whole of any
animal. She presented Mae with a dish called roasted pigface, which Mae ate and discovered
tasted like a more fatty bacon; she liked it very much. They passed other visitors
as they toured the campus, groups of college students, and packs of vendors, and what
appeared to be a senator and his handlers. They passed an arcade stocked with vintage
pinball machines and an indoor badminton court, where, Annie said, a former world
champion was kept on retainer. By the time Josiah and Denise had brought her back
around to the center of the campus, the light was dimming, and staffers were installing
tiki torches in the grass and lighting them. A few thousand Circlers began to gather
in the twilight, and standing among them, Mae knew that she never wanted to work—never
wanted to be—anywhere else. Her hometown, and the rest of California, the rest of
America, seemed like some chaotic mess in the developing world. Outside the walls
of the Circle, all was noise and struggle, failure and filth. But here, all had been
perfected. The best people had made the best systems and the best systems had reaped
funds, unlimited funds, that made possible this, the best place to work. And it was
natural that it was so, Mae thought. Who else but utopians could make
Similar Books
Unknown
Unknown
The Eden Series: The Complete Collection
Janelle Stalder
Kilting Me Softly: 1
Persephone Jones
Darkness Under the Sun
Dean Koontz
Sybil
Flora Rheta Schreiber
The Pyramid
William Golding
Nothing is Forever
Grace Thompson
Series of Unfortunate Events: The Grim Grotto
Lemony Snicket
The Tiger's Wife
Tea Obreht