Monitoring
Congolese Republic, Kinshasa station, floor 6, section 3, desk 7. Rosy Mutombo surveyed the bank of screens in front of her, took the final sip of her second energy drink of the evening, and tried to massage a cramp out of her calf muscle. A quick glance around to be sure the floor supervisor was busy elsewhere, and she kicked off her shoes, stretched her back and arms, peered around the divider to see what her neighbor Gladys was up to. Gladys winked at her, passed her a hard candy. She stood cautiously to stretch her aching leg. Funny, Biamba-Marie in the next row over was doing exactly the same thing. She had been at the club last night too, dancing until much too late. They exchanged smirks, checked for the supervisor and sat quickly. That’s a little better, back to it.
On the largest screen, an inset showed a live feed from the tail of an airplane, with an array of pipes and nozzles, sensors and conduits. It looked like a jet of steam forming a little beyond the nozzles and rapidly spreading into a wide cone behind the aircraft. In fact it was a cocktail of expanding gases injected into a stream of carrier fluid containing emulsifiers along with a dense payload of microscopic sensors, relays, signalers, beacons and accumulators.
The green and amber tones of the late summer landscape of eastern North America was visible far below the plane. Odd to think this country so far away, this rich, powerful country around the globe, could appear so reminiscent of her own home. At least from twelve thousand feet.
Rosy stretched her eyes open to fight the drowsiness creeping over her. The hypnotic quality of the video feed, with the ever pulsing jet, and the slowly scrolling patterns of field, town and forest, was making it hard to corral her attention. She struggled to focus on the multiple data feeds live-charted across the screens. Temperatures, pressures, flow rates, atmospheric metrics, airspeed and altitude, live calculations of density projections.
She wondered why humans were monitoring at all, when clearly the machine systems had all of this covered. Leave all this to the AI, why not? She couldn’t know that the headset and sensors she wore as she monitored the dispersal operations were another part of the data accumulation process informing the AI. She was simply glad to have the job, and toughed it out through another shift to keep it.
A change in the shape of the jet brought her eye back to the video feed, and after a moment it was clear it was compromised, half the volume, suddenly asymmetrical, and then the flow stopped altogether. It took just a moment to be fully awake again, she quickly cued a marker into the feed to record the timestamp, hit the escalation button, and checked the metrics for the source of the anomaly – sure enough, an emitter was running hot. Didn’t happen very often any more, they had adjusted the gas mix to keep those temps below problem levels, but as the emitters wore out they became more temperamental. That one should probably have been replaced already, some setup technician was going to catch an earful. Rosy raised the pressure in the diluent flow to the maximum, waited a few seconds.
By now Dikembe Kanya, the supervisor, was watching over her shoulder, and nodded approvingly when the puff of metallic fluid shot out of the emitter, and the jet reformed. Rosy restored the pressure just a little higher than it had been.
“Quick thinking there, Mutombo.” Dikembe congratulated her with a rare smile. “You handled that very nicely.” He watched the metrics stabilize on her screen, nodded again, wiggled his glasses back into place – a gesture often imitated by his underlings during breaks – and moved along.
The rest of the shift was mostly uneventful. A few minor flow issues, another clogged emitter a little later into the drop, on another plane. By the time Rosy’s team closed down their work stations at eleven and made for the door, the seeding runs for the U.S. northeast, and eastern provinces of Canada were complete.
Dikembe made a point to call Rosy aside on her way out, to let her know that he and the other supervisors had agreed the outages were brief enough to call the operation a success. “That was a very good save you did tonight, Rosy.”
“Thank you Mister Kanya. All those drills during the Africa rollout paid off I suppose.” It seemed a little strange he was calling her by her first name. A lot more friendly than he had ever been before.
“Yes, the mesh Q.C. team will have to test final density on the surface, but we feel very confident about it. Nice work again.”
There was a pause where it seemed Kanya had something else to say, but wasn’t finding the words. “Will you be at Simba club again tonight, Rosy?”
She didn’t realize he went there, she’d never noticed him. “I wasn’t going to, I’m rather tired tonight.”
“Yes, of course. Well, we’ll be back here for evening shift again tomorrow.” Another pause.
Get it out for God’s sakes man. “Would you like to join me for lunch, before the shift?” Rapid-fire. “We could go to Brazza Bar, it’s close to Simba, you know it?”
Rosy was a little taken aback. She certainly hadn’t anticipated this.
“…Or just a coffee… My treat of course, either way…”
She had never considered him in any romantic kind of way. He was quite a bit older – what? Ten years? A bit of a bookworm type she thought, but attractive enough, never mean or belittling, unlike many of the other superiors at M.S.C. Just that he was her boss. Never considered.
“Okay… that would be okay.” She realized how her hesitation must have come across. She hadn’t meant to shut him down, she had needed a moment to catch up. “That would be nice.”
“Oh, that’s great!” He certainly looked elated. “Let’s say one o’clock then? Brazza does great coffee drinks.”
“Okay, see you then…” She headed out, as he held the door and called after her, “Thank you Rosy! Good night.”
She was still not sure what to make of this development. Am I crazy? Where did that come from? She found herself suppressing a smile a few times as her bus made its way through the streets. These people will think I’m a simpleton. They’ll know what I’m thinking.
She made herself think of something else. The driver. She always thought how strange to have no drivers, like in America. Here in Kinshasa, and everywhere else she could think of in Africa, drivers, just like always. How strange to have a system where all the vehicles drive themselves. Or more accurately, where the streets drive all the vehicles. She thought of AI, how big that was now. But how messy, like parts all AI and parts still all people. Her job. Not even sure what any of it was for. A girl like herself, from a little village where even now, with Africa booming, people had so little use for technology. A phone, a computer if you were well off. That was it. Was a computer going to milk the goats? Change the nappies? But now look at me.
The bus turned into her neighborhood. Out of view of other people, she smiled all the way to her apartment.
The Brazza Bar was one of many trendy places that sprouted up around the M.S.C. campus in Kinshasa. Thousands of young professionals and manufacturing employees provided a ready market for all kinds of restaurants, lunch places, bars, clubs and shops of every kind.
From her small table under a canopy in front of the bar, Rosy could see a statue in the distance, a monument to some white man from another era, best-forgotten. Beyond that, a couple of old government buildings, all built with the grand architectural gestures the Belgian colonists used to impose their power.
Across the street, beyond the bustling traffic, a dense row of businesses, eateries, shops, in that very African palette, starting from the faded shades of sand and red earth, to the loudest, richest jewel tones, all clashing away in vibrant competition. Lots of neon and LED signs, people dressed to match the buildings. A range of skin tones, mostly burnished iroko like her own, but quite a few flushed pinks and sandy beiges, and a sprinkling of ebony. Busy people, and no one hanging about with nothing to do, no one looking hungry. She was not old enough to know an Africa with those problems, but was well aware of the crushing poverty and desperation among so many of her parents’ generation and before.
Further along the street, the first of a series of sleek, modern buildings. Just as imposing as the colonial structures, but these were unmistakably African in appearance. The gateway to the MSC campus, where a cluster of similarly impressive buildings towered in front of a sprawling network of lower, much more utilitarian manufacturing and storage buildings.
Rosy checked her watch, again. Now it was after ten past. He’s standing me up.
She was feeling too unsettled to return to her reverie about Congo’s history, visible in the vista in front of her. Five more minutes. She tried to keep her face neutral. Her breath was quickening, chest tightening, her heart was beating faster. What was I thinking anyway? Of course he’s really just like the others.
She scanned the faces in the street. Fought against this familiar rising tide of disappointment. People will know I’m waiting for someone who’s not coming. They’ll know I’m the girl no one wants. She looked quickly at the tables around her. A few couples, a small group, a woman on her own, reading her screen. She took a series of deep breaths. Calmer. She wondered how much longer to wait before leaving, or if she should just order something and while away the time until her shift, like that other girl.
She picked up the menu, struggled to absorb the choices. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and lifted her face to find Dikembe smiling down at her.
“Rosy, I’m so sorry to be late… I’m never late… I hope you were not here long.” He sat opposite her, still smiling, flustered, like he’d been running. “Hello. You look lovely, I hope you don’t mind…”
The sudden relief was overwhelming, it flooded her, she could feel it in every muscle, in the roots of her hair. She flushed, almost stammered, “Oh, for a bit… not very long.” Again she had to wait for her thoughts to catch up with her senses. “It’s okay, Mister Kanya.”
“Oh please, you can stop calling me mister right now.” Dikembe laughed. “I know it could be awkward at work. Let’s not allow that to get in the way. My friends call me DK.”
“Okay, DK,” Rosy giggled, maybe a bit too much, still riding the wave of her relief. It sounded more like dickie when she said it.
“I like the way you say my name,” with a steady gaze into her eyes.
She melted a little. How could she feel so completely different in just thirty seconds?
“But first, how are you? Thank you so much for meeting me. Did you choose anything yet?” That wiggle as he adjusted his glasses, and picked up a menu.
Rosy’s smile dimpled her cheeks. This was going to be okay. “I’m great, thank you. No I didn’t really look yet.”
“I recommend the cardamom latte. You wouldn’t think it would be half so good… I always get it. I’m sure they put something else in there but they won’t tell me what.”
“You come here a lot then?”
“Well, it’s been a little while now, but yes I love this place.” DK looked around, caught the eye of the server.
“I have some good news. Good I hope… I know it’s good for me, I hope it will be for you too. That’s why I’m late, actually.”
“Oh?”
“You know the seeding drops are going to be finished up soon. Our section will need to shrink when that happens, so we’ve been wondering what becomes of us then. So today my supervisor called me in, and told me what the plan is.”
The server arrived. “Would you like to try that cardamom latte, Rosy?”
“Sure why not, it sounds great.”
“Two of those please.”
Rosy could see the way he looked at the server, and spoke. She sensed a respect. She thought of others she had eaten out with, how common it was for people to be so abrupt to those helping them, dismissive maybe. Not this man before her.
DK continued, “A lot of people will have a chance to move to different areas of the company and get trained in something else. Quite a few will be shown the door. People who didn’t make the grade. But there’s a new department being formed that sounds very exciting. It’s a data processing division, it’s going to be built from the ground up. My supervisor offered me a position. It would be a big promotion for me.”
“Oh that’s wonderful, DK!” Rosy felt like she was on his side already. Was that wise? It had only been a few minutes since she had been close to despair.
“Well, maybe for you too. He asked me to suggest people in my group who would be good choices for the new department, and you’re at the top of my list. So I expect you’ll get an offer very soon. Data processing doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But actually this will be interesting work. We’ll be developing the systems used to handle all the inputs from the mesh we’ve been setting up. That is, they already have collection systems, we will be figuring out how to use the data to drive decision making. It’s a new initiative because they…”
He stopped himself. “I haven’t stopped talking since I got here, I’m sorry.”
“Oh but you had this news, and it’s exciting, right?”
“Yes, but I want to get to know you, Rosy. I wanted to spend some time with you… to get to know all about you.” He took a breath and paused, made space for her.
“Well first, thank you for putting my name forward for this new job. I had been worrying about that a lot you know.” She reflected on her restless nights lately. *If only I could tell you how worried. “*We’ve all been talking about it too. No secret that things will change when the seeding is finished.”
“You’re smart and efficient. It’s been obvious to me that you’re capable of a lot more than just the monitoring work we’ve been doing. That’s a big part of why I noticed you, you know.”
“You’re very kind, Mister… DK.” Another giggle.
“Caught yourself, that’s better…” DK smiled broadly. “Not kind really, you really are impressive. You know, I don’t want you to feel that you have to defer to me because I’ve been your supervisor in the department. I know it could be strange for us to see each other because of that, but I really want to get to know you, as I said. I don’t want that to get in the way.”
The drinks arrived. DK raised his cup and toasted her. “To you Rosy, and your illustrious new career at MSC.”
“And to you, and yours too!” She toasted him back.
He drew in the aroma to savor it before taking a sip. “Really, so good. I don’t know what they do. Let’s start with this… I know you like to dance, because I’ve seen you at the Kali Simba club. What else do you like to do?”
Rosy took a moment to think. Here it was, the part of dating that was so painful. Never knowing if the things you were revealing were going to end it right there. Feeling like you were being interrogated. Not knowing if you were saying the right thing. How much easier to just skip all this talking and get right to it, even if that meant it could only be for a night, or even less.
She set the thoughts aside. “When I was a girl, in a place near Pweto, it was by a lake down there, I used to escape everything when I could. I would walk for hours. I’d get in so much trouble to be gone so long, but I had to get away. I would go in to the forest and along the shore, by the marshes, and I’d sit and watch birds. Little birds were all over the place, and when I’d just sit in the reeds or the bushes they would get used to me. They’d forget I was there, or forget to be afraid of me. I could spend so much time with the birds, watching them feeding, and fighting, or courting and raising their little ones. They would come so close. I loved the colors and the songs.”
DK was looking into her face intently as she talked, a half-smile on his lips, maybe he was imagining the little birds flocking around him too, in the reeds.
Rosy realized she had been talking a lot more than she normally would. She took a sip of the latte. “I never told anybody about that.”
DK nodded in appreciation of the confidence. “I’m certainly glad you were not eaten by a crocodile, sitting around on your own beside a lake.”
“My mother used to say exactly that!”
“Or bitten by a hippopotamus. They can be deadly. A friend of mine was in the hospital for weeks after a hippo got him, when we were kids. You don’t think they’d be fast, but lookout!” He slapped the table with both hands and burst out laughing, people turned toward the noise.
Rosy must have looked a little uncomfortable. “Don’t mind them,” he said, still chuckling, “We’re just enjoying ourselves, right?”
She settled as the people turned back to their own conversations. They filled the pause with sips.
“Do you still spend time among the birds?”
“Don’t have time for that sort of thing anymore. Wish I could.” Lord knows I would love to escape sometimes.
“So, your turn now, DK. Tell me something about yourself that no one knows.”
Not just DK’s turn to speak, but his turn to think carefully about what he could reveal so soon.
What would he share? Fumbling in the dark. Torn between two poles. Light and dark, two extremes of happiness, one celebrated, one despised.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to ask such a difficult question.” Rosy sensed his discomfort, realized maybe he was just like her in this way. Secrets. But her voice was playfully conspiratorial, with a smile, “Just pick a little secret, DK.”
He rescued himself. “I grew up in a city, but my people were cattle herders before. That’s what my grandparents all did, and their parents all the way back. There were traditions that we didn’t keep up. Like the way for a boy to become a man. It used to be you had to go out and kill a lion with a spear. If you didn’t do it you could not be recognized as a man. Well, it makes no sense for every boy to go out and kill a lion any more, there wouldn’t be a single lion left in Africa. And there was another ritual with jumping over the backs of a lot of bulls. It was all about proving your courage and strength. I bet you know all about these things. Maybe there were womanhood rituals for you?”
“Not like the old days, for sure. There was a ceremony for the girls in our place, which was pretty serious business, but then there were big parties. That part was a lot of fun. Lot’s of dancing.”
“Ah, see, dancing is very important, I know.”
“And if you go to Kali Simba then I know you must like to dance too. Unless you go there for some other reason that I can’t even imagine.”
“Well next time we’ll go together and you can see for yourself.”
“I can’t wait! … But you were talking about your rituals.” Rosy’s face turned more serious again. “Thank God most of those old practices died out. Life is hard enough already for girls.”
“I know it. Well, my father wanted to still do some part of that for me and my brothers. There couldn’t be lions or bulls, but there were other traditions in some places, like going out into the forest for some time and using your skills to stay alive. My father decided me and my brothers would do something like that when we were the right age to be men. It wasn’t our tradition, but he thought having that kind of ritual was important, so he made up his own.”
“He sounds like an interesting man.”
“You could say that. Interesting, yes. Some other things come to my mind too, but definitely an interesting man to have as a father.” DK took the last sip of his latte, and peered over into Rosy’s cup to see how she was doing. “You like it too. Maybe we should get something else. Did you eat?”
“I don’t need anything. But get something if you like.”
“Well, I’m tempted… I could spend the entire day here with you. But we will need to get to our shift before too long.”
“Don’t. Maybe we can call in sick.”
“I don’t think anyone has got away with that in a long time.”
“You’re right. But we have a bit longer. Finish your father’s manhood ritual.”
“Yes, okay. What was I saying? He made up his own tradition. He knew someone with a ranch who still kept cows, but we’d go for the bush out there. We’d stay a few days, and whichever one of us was fifteen, we’d have to go out into the bush on the ranch and kill what we ate. He made us go out there for three days, while the other brothers and him stayed at the ranch with his friend.”
“Wow. I guess you survived alright, I’m glad to see.“
“Well, he taught us a lot as boys, so it’s not like we were just dropped into it with no clue, but it was a real ordeal. And yes, I came out with all my limbs intact. And not bitten by a snake. Really, when you think about it, it was a crazy thing to do. It’s one thing to grow up making a living out of the bush, so you know everything to look out for that can kill you. Quite another thing to do it as a boy from the city.”
“I know for sure I’d die on day one. It’s giving me a heart attack to think about it.” Rosy shuddered. “So what did you kill to feed yourself for three days?”
“I bet your birds would feed you. You’d probably enjoy it.” A shadow of regret crossed his face. “And it was a jungle fowl that fed me. They are very crafty. I gave up trying to catch him during the day. At least I knew enough to follow him to his roosting place. As long as you’re stealthy you can just snatch them while they’re up there at night.“ As he spoke he grabbed an imaginary bird from the air in front of him. “So I have a different reason to appreciate the birds, but I can tell you I was very grateful for that chicken.”
DK leaned forward. “I don’t ever talk about all this, but it’s not really a secret or anything. What I wanted to say was that I needed to escape too, when I was a boy. To get away from my father. My mother was gone and it was hard for us growing up. So maybe I told you a very long story to say I understand needing to get away.”
Rosy nodded, absorbing this familiar idea, asked herself if it was the right time to say more.
DK continued, “I didn’t really have a place to go. Just getting out of the house, and I left home early to live with friends. My brothers left before I did. That last year was hard.”
“How old were you then?”
“I left at sixteen. Eleven years ago now, it’s…”
“Wait, how old are you?” Rosy sat back while the arithmetic turned in her mind. “You’re only five years older than me. I thought you were older!”
“Really, how much older?” DK tilted his head, like a dog straining to comprehend.
“I’m not going to say.”
“Must be my great wisdom and maturity, right?” Then with mock horror, “Oh no, you can’t see my white hair, can you? Is the dye coming out?”
“Running all down your face!” She was grateful he had turned her mistake into something funny. “I’m so embarrassed! Maybe it’s because you’re a supervisor. And yes, you’re very mature for certain. You always look like you really know everything that’s going on.”
“Okay, let’s call it a compliment then.”
Walking down the street after the table was cleared and the bill paid, their hands found one another. Rosy looked up at DK, “You’re quite the comedy actor, you know.”
“Perhaps it’s my greatest accomplishment. It comes in handy entertaining little kids.”
“Oh you do a clown act do you?” she teased.
“You have a little bit of a mean streak, you know that?”
“So better not get on the wrong side of me!”
“I’m getting that idea. How am I doing so far?”
“You’re still surviving.”
“I’ll take that.” DK looked very pleased with himself. “Surviving feels like winning right now.”
They walked on among the streams of other workers, now attached in a comfortable silence. So comfortable so fast.
They turned into the campus, toward the tallest of the buildings.
“Hey, there’s something I’ve got to know,” she looked at him sideways with an impish smile.
“Of course, ask me whatever you like.” Maybe not anything.
“Did you line up a job for me just so you can get into my panties?”
He burst out laughing again. He stopped her and lifted her hand, held it in both his own. “Will it help?”
“Cheeky devil! I should dump you right now!”
They continued, smirking at each other.
“You deserve the opportunity no matter what happens between us. Just think of it as a bonus, not the price of admission.”
“Oh, I see, there’s admission. So you’re going to punch my ticket now are you?”
“As often as I can!”
“Yes my mother warned me about men like you as well as crocodiles. You’re very lucky I still like you.”
“Oh well I’m very glad you do.” A warm smile. “Rosy, the lovely bird girl. I like you too.”
They were next to a passageway that ran between two buildings. She pulled his hand and led him to a doorway a little way along, in the cool of the shade.
“I like you a lot.” She pulled him closer. His hand found her neck, traced a path to her cheek as she lifted her face toward his. First kiss, and they both knew. Softness, scent of skin and hair, warmth, a sudden surge – like electricity. An inexplicable energy. Aliveness. They knew.
“You can punch my ticket anytime, mister inspector.”
A kiss like none ever before. Folded into each other’s arms, just a few moments, but an eternity.
A difficult shift, hard to concentrate on the work, at least for two of M.S.C.’s employees.
The drops did not often happen at night, but the weather was still optimal, and the deadline approaching. They would monitor the completion of the U.S. Pacific drop tonight, leaving only the western part of Canada still to do. Europe had been complete for weeks, data testing was well under way. Decisions still to be made about sections of South America. Parts of Eurasia complete, some not. The priority was on the more populated areas, of course, and there was always maneuvering around political arrangements before rollouts could proceed.
Regardless, after this phase, the monitoring team would be reduced to a fraction of its current size.