The start of a new day

James stared at his notebook. It was a new day, which meant a new page in his notebook. “What is today?” James muttered to himself. He started to write the date and pause. He thought to himself, “What did I do yesterday?” It was Monday, the weekend was past and it was a new week. James could not remember this. He was always the first person in the office, so he had no one to ask. James started to write “I know it’s 2120, isn’t it?” The only response was the HVAC system kicking in. “Well you’re no help!” The HVAC system impassively hummed its tune. This scene repeated every morning. With nothing to differentiate the days how can you tell them apart? James took a sip of his coffee and finally noticed his computer had booted and now showed the time. “Monday again already?” James had worked all weekend again. He had no family, no friends, no hobby, and few chores. All he did was work, eat and sleep. Corporate housing provided everything he needed. His laundry was cleaned, pressed, folded and place in his closet while he worked. Prepared food was delivered to the fridge every day. All of the cleaning was handled by staff he never saw. All he ever had to do was warm food and shuffle stuff around his apartment. Just like he spent his days, and most weekends, shuffling numbers.

Having prepared the next page in his notebook James was ready to start his day. “Let’s see what we have to do today.” James browsed through the task management system, making notes of everything he needed to take care of that day. The other engineers in the office made fun of him for using paper. He always said it helped him keep focused, but he was really just an old comforting habit. James was one of the few that were old enough to remember email. He crunched the numbers and wrote the report showing the task management system would save the company time and money over email. The savings were significant. The software showed what tasks needed to be completed that day, how much time they would take, how much effort was required, and even showed them in the optimal order of completion. He never missed email, it was too cumbersome and inefficient.

James bought his own notebooks and pens. Paper had long been obsolete. It was rarely used for anything these days, but James found comfort in his notebooks. Filling in a page each day, checking off his tasks, making notes he would never reference. Each notebook he filled was placed neatly in his bookshelf. James spent years perfecting his handwriting and took pride in how perfect each page was. Most people people had knickknacks from their vacations. Family photos in acrylic blocks with the names and designs of the locations. Each one the same size and shape. Manufactured from the same two plants and chemically identical. Pictures automatically synthesized from security camera footage and perfect in every way. James had designed the software so many decades ago. It was the thesis for his PhD. The first time he saw the result of his work was the last trip to see his parents. Their bookshelf was full of them.

James didn’t have a family. James just worked. He loved his work. His family passed away decades ago, refusing to use the new life extending treatments. James never dated, never had friends, never spent time outside of work with his coworkers. James just worked. On the rare occasion James didn’t have work on the weekends he spent his time sitting in the office reading documentation or checking his own work for mistakes, mistakes he never found. The software didn’t allow mistakes. Everything he did was verified by the AI system when it was submitted. He knew exactly how many errors the AI system had prevented, it was his Tuesday afternoon report. He knew the error rate went up every time a new employee was hired. He knew the curves as the new employees learned the system. There was the short curve from people that already spent time working with computers and understood the training. Then there was the long curve from people that couldn’t get the hang of the system. Those people never lasted long.

Sometimes on the weekends James would plot his own error curve. His error rate was down to 0.01%, nearly at the noise floor. He was proud of this and brought it up every performance review. James’s manager liked him. Not personally of course, that wasn’t allowed, it impacted performance. James knew exactly how much this rule saved, it was part of his Thursday morning reports. He also knew the impact this rule had on morale when it was introduced. James had crunched the numbers and written the report. He always volunteered to analyze new rules and systems. He enjoyed doing the analysis and processing the data from the trials and tests and measuring how closely the results matched the models. He always marveled how predicted results and the test data got closer every time. The models the AI built slowly became more accurate every time they were used. That was his Monday afternoon report. He designed the software that managed the models. It was the first major project he completed on his own. He delivered the project on time and under budget. He always met his goals. He used his own software to design models to manage the projects. After many decades it was very accurate.

James always ate on his own. In the amount of time he worked for the corporation everyone hew knew had retired or moved on to other departments. Most engineers only lasted a few years before moving on to something else. He rarely worked with someone for more than a decade. It wasn’t worth his time to socialize with people he would only work with for a comparatively short time. He has charts that show the time savings. James didn’t dislike his fellow engineers. He worked with them just fine. Always cheerful in meetings and personable otherwise. His relationships were purely professional. Work is what mattered. James loved his work.