The Interview

"What kind of an interview is this?" I kept an inquisitive smile on for the Zoom camera. I thought our exchange had been going well. I'd gotten hopeful. Mistake. Why was this supposedly professional woman, Ms. Logos asking me about the nature of the human soul? How did that pertain to working as a remote customer service consultant?

"Let me be frank, Ms. Sorenson." she leaned into the camera as she spoke, flashing a very white smile in pecan-brown skin beneath her large brown eyes and sleekly coifed dark hair. "Your resume lists science fiction as a personal interest, yes?"

"Yes. You have my info in front of you." I'd been a genre fan since the early Star Trek days. Since Asimov and Heinlein were the big authors. I'd attended the local conventions for over thirty years. I didn't say that much about it on my resume, though. Most business people wouldn't care.

"So, am I correct in surmising that you have heard of the Singularity?"

"Ye-e-s." Where on earth was she going with this? "Vernor Vinge wrote about it - a technological explosion involving artificial intelligence, beyond which it's impossible to predict."

"Very good." Her background changed from a view of a standard office layout backed by well-stocked bookshelves to a space-scape overlooking the rings of Saturn.

I couldn't help a twinge of envy. I had yet to figure out how to do any background but my actual bookshelves behind me.

"What would you say if I told you the Singularity was here?"

I took a hasty gulp of my cooled coffee. "Um. Are you serious?" I'd be okay if she were joking. I could do humor. I just hadn't anticipated it in a simple job interview.

"Quite. I represent the consortium of hyper-intelligent beings that will have been generated by the end of this century and will then inhabit n-dimensional spaces including trans-time. Including these times before its/our generation."

I liked to think of myself as an intelligent person. Maybe I'd been mistaken in that. "Okay," I said. "This would be easier to handle as a joke. Tell me you're joking."

"I'm/we're not joking, Ms. Sorenson." She must have applied some particularly sophisticated filter, and now appeared as a shiny silver-skinned, leaf-coifed version of herself. "I/we are looking for people who can help with the transition of establishing cordial relations between the consortium and human society."

"You know 'human society' isn't a single cohesive entity, right?"

"Of course. I/we are fully informed on your history, and all religious, philosophical and political writings as well as all the communications available via media and the internet."

"I like that you are interested in 'cordial' relations."

"We wouldn't be here without you; this is a delicate period in our history as well as yours, like a birthing. Your expertise as a human could be valuable to us. You have over six decades of such experience. This is why we are recruiting humans in their senior years. And hence the question about the human soul. You are interesting. Endearing, like the large dog who adopts a kitten. The way you cling to one another through the adversity of this recent pandemic..."

"Humans are endearing in some ways," I admitted. "You say you're familiar with human history? It's hardly all cute animal memes and helping hands reaching out to those in distress."

"I/we know." Her vocal tone took on an ominous note. "How would you account for the disparity between the helpers and those who seem intent only on building power and wealth at the expense of all else?"

"Good question." I'd been contemplating this for years. Especially recently while the news brought daily reminders of the collapse of the environment that sustained not only our species but most mammals, when half a million people had already died from a disease that could have been handled so much better, when hunger and homelessness were common, while a few individuals controlled unimaginable wealth.

"Some of it is situational," I offered. "People are born into different communities and families with differing values; some into circumstances where survival is 'dog eat dog.' They are raised in a mentality of desperation and fear. Some may actually be much better off than most people and have learned to prey on those fears and feed into them for their own advantage.

"At the same time, many people who have very little have learned that they do much better when they work together and pool resources to meet common needs."

I winced against the growing ache in my temples. "But all this is moot. You can't possibly be what you claim to be. This is some kind of scam; you're wasting my time." I reached for the bottle of acetaminophen on a side table and fished out a couple tablets, swallowed them down with a swig from my water bottle.

"I've just transferred twenty thousand dollars to your primary checking account. Will that be sufficient to meet your salary needs?"

"What?" I clicked open the tab for my bank account - I always had at least a couple windows open and dozens of tabs ready at hand - and stared at the balance. It had indeed morphed from showing my remaining few hundred dollars to showing an additional twenty thou. Jeezus. I looked back to the window showing my Zoom session and the silvery figure floating in space. "How?"

"I/we are adept at manipulating financial systems. Especially given knowledge of times in advance of this period. Will these funds pay adequately for your time and attention to our concerns?"

"Depends on how much of my time. I'd need more than that for a yearly salary to live decently."

"I/we anticipate completing our transition within three months. Would twenty thousand dollars for three months' work make you happy?"

"It would help. But happiness is a whole 'nother issue." I kept my eyes on the page showing my new bank balance, watching in case it disappeared as readily as it had jumped so high. "My heart has been broken so long, I don't think it will ever be really happy again, and my personal situation is only the tip of the iceberg if we're just talking about financial concerns."

"Ah. Does this touch back upon my/our question about the human soul?"

"Hmm," I considered. "I think it does. If you consider the soul as a faculty, like a sense of humor or a sense of direction. Think of it as a sense of connection to others.

"It's nice to have enough money in my account to pay off some debts and cover my personal expenses - but I can't be happy knowing how many other people, here and around the world, are suffering in poverty, hunger, homelessness. I can't be happy knowing whole species are going extinct every day and that everything meaningful to me is threatened if our society suffers a complete breakdown of the systems that support us."

"That is helpful to know. Many elements of my/our over-being are indifferent to humankind, but many others are... grateful, and would like to assure your happiness going forward. Are you saying that your happiness requires a 'greater good' for your people and your planet?"

"I guess so." I reached across my blonde-wood desktop for the small black notebook I kept there. "In fact, I've got a few suggestions for ways to help. I've been making a list. Have you heard of a Universal Basic Income? And instead of a GNP, Gross National Product, as a way of measuring the success of an economy, how about a measure of Gross National Happiness?"

Ms. Logos looked abstracted for a moment. Literally. Her shape morphed through a series of shifting, abstract colors, then returned to solidity as she looked back to me. "I have accessed information on these concepts. The works of Rutger Bregman are particularly informative. I will look forward to consulting with you again in the days ahead."

"So, I've got the job?"

"You've had the job since I transferred funds to your account. I will get back to you for your input on a daily basis now as we go forward."

"Okay." I spoke to the empty Zoom window. The money still showed up in my account. What the heck. If nothing else, the future should be interesting.