The Machine

(Part 1) [This week's "As the Pegasus Flies"] Harry's invention was near completion. All he needed to do now was give it one last test drive, try it out on his secretary Cindy. (Of course, she was more than just his secretary, but we'll get to that later.) He thought of it as "The Machine," for lack of a better title, similar to the way a writer titles a new work "Untitled" until he or she can come up with something more clever, or at least suitable. The machine would revolutionize the workplace, would enable managers to rate the performance of an employee's performance with a 98.5% rate of accuracy. Come raise time, employees would have to accept the review—not to mention their raise in pay (if there was one)—because the company had cold hard facts backing them up. Nothing to haggle over. The basic idea was similar to a polygraph, also known as a lie detector, except it didn't have all those annoying wires and sensors to attach. Just a little slot to place your hand, where the machine can read an increase or decrease in blood pressure, level of sweat, tension, and overall nervousness. "Okay, Cindy," Harry said, flicking on a series of switches, "just slide your hand in there and grab tight onto the lever." "Why Harry, usually you buy me dinner first," Cindy said, seductively entering her right hand into the slot. "Honey, when people get a load of this machine, I'm going to be rich! We'll eat out every night!" He really believed that, too. Of all his inventions, this was the one that was going to put him over the top. He had thought that about his last invention—a mirror that flopped your reflection so you would see yourself correctly, as other do—but this one had a more practical, commercial use. "Okay, here goes nothing," he said, and flipped the final switch. The machine began to hum and vibrate. Cindy held her hand still. Lights flickered and pulsed. The vibration increased. After several minutes, it slowed, and a printer began to whir as it spit out the results. Harry pulled at the paper, tore it off and read the results. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

(Part 2) "So, how'd I do?" Cindy asked. "It says you should be earning 75 times what you are now! You should have a company car, your own driver, and take your meetings in Nantucket!" Cindy stood up, excited now. "That's great! When does this machine go live? I can't wait till my next review!" Harry slumped back down into his chair, defeated. "Forget it. They'll never go for it." Cindy said, "What? Why not? It works great! It actually shows how hard I work, how much I am worth and what I should be getting paid." Harry looked at her, sadly. He said, "Exactly. That's why they'll never go for it." Cindy sat down again, also now defeated. "Now what?" she said. Then, "Hey, maybe it was just a fluke. You should test other people. Get Stu or Hank, or even Lorenzo in here!" Harry just shook his head. "Don't you see? They'd all test through the roof. Every one of them works like a dog and the results would show they deserve a big increase in pay." "Well then, maybe you can just re-calibrate the machine so it skews a little lower—but still, you know, on the positive side." "No!" he said, "I will not cheapen my invention!" She went as if to console him, then suddenly grabbed his hand, put it in the slot, and flipped the "On" switch. Four minutes later they were reading the results. She said, "Wow! it says here you should be making ten times what you are, and should have a corner office in Manhattan!" This didn't make him feel better. She brightened. "Hey," she said, "you know what we should do? Get one of the big wigs in here, see how they score." "Cindy," he said, "you are a genius."

(Part 3) Kidnapping is such a dirty word. And really, if you think about it, it's made up of "kid" and "napping." A child sleeping. What could be more sweet than a child sleeping? This was what Harry was thinking as he pushed the blindfolded Dylan into the chair. Cindy shut and locked the door behind them. "What do you want from me!" Dylan screeched. She wasn't used to this kind of treatment. Then again, who is? "Take the blindfold off her," Harry said. "Are you sure?" Cindy asked, "We don't want her to be able to identify us." Harry said, "Don't worry, I have that covered. If the results are what we think they'll be, she'll won't want anyone to know." Cindy went behind Dylan and untied the blindfold. Dylan looked around, getting her bearings, blinking in the sudden bright light. "What is this contraption?" she asked. "What are you going to do to me?" Harry moved next to her, adopting a bedside manner of a family doctor. "Don't worry, Miss Dylan, this won't hurt a bit." He gently lifted her arm, gave her hand a pat, and put it in the slot. "Just hold on to the lever." Dylan looked frightened, but did as she was told. Harry stood over the machine and flipped the series of switches to get it up and running. He hit the final button and the machine kicked in, the vibrations rattling Dylan's body, not to mention her nerves. "Don't let go!" Harry yelled over the noise. Dylan squeezed tighter, sweat breaking out on her brow, her blond hair stuck to her forehead. Finally the machine slowed and Harry went to get the results. Dylan was still clutching the lever. "You can let go now," he said, tearing off the printout. Cindy went over and stood next to him. "Just as I suspected," Harry said, handing her the paper. "What? What is it?" Dylan asked. Cindy handed the paper to Dylan. "That's right," Harry said, "you should be making a tenth of your salary." Cindy said, "The jig's up."

(Part 4) [The conclusion to this week's "As the Pegasus Flies"] "But I don't want the jig to be up! I have a fancy lifestyle I need to maintain!" Dylan said. "Well, boo hoo," Cindy said. Harry said, "I invented this machine for accurate career evaluation. In fact, I'm going to call it FACE, for short. But now I realize it works in reverse, too. It tells us who is working below expectations." Dylan said, "I'll tell the Wallaces what you're up to. You'll get fired!" Harry said, "You won't tell, and we won't get fired." Dylan looked at him, pouting. He continued, "The machine has a 98.5% rate of accuracy. If your results get out, you'll be the one fired." "What do you want from me?" she asked. He said, "You're the head of our division. Get us good raises, and your secret is safe with us." Cindy said, "And I want business cards, too!" "That's blackmail!" Dylan said. "Blackmail is such a dirty word," Cindy said. "So, what are you going to get every executive in here? Try to blackmail them too?" Dylan asked. Harry went over and patted the machine tenderly. "No," he said, "FACE is a great invention, but I see now it would never be used for good purposes—only bad." Cindy went over to the machine too. "What are you going to do with it?" He said, "I assembled it here at RD, and I'll disassemble it here. I will store all the parts randomly throughout the building—just in case I need to put it back together." He gave Dylan a severe, threatening look. "Oh, just let me go," Dylan said. "I'll get you your raises and we'll all be happy." Cindy said, "Don't forget my business cards." "And I want a garbage can for my office," Harry added. Dylan stood and they all shook hands on the deal. Except Harry never did dismantle his baby. August 2010: Two interns kicking around the empty parts of the old headquarters. "Hey, what's this thing?" one asks. "I don't know," says the other. "Let's fire it up!" Intern #1 plugs the machine in and flips some switches. "Put your hand in there," he says. Intern #2 inserts his hand. Four minutes later they are reading the results. Intern #1 says, "Wow, this says you should be making fifty thousand dollars a year!" Intern #2 says, "That's fifty thousand more than I'm making now!" Intern #1 says, "We should tell RD about this contraption." Suddenly, a very old woman using a walker comes into the room. "You will do no such thing," she says. "My dear departed husband Harry invented that, and I've sworn it wouldn't get into the wrong hands." She hands them each her business card. Intern #1 says, "How long have you been down here?!" "Many years now," Cindy says, and sits down on an old folding chair. Cindy reminds Intern #1 of his grandmother, so he feels protective of her. "Don't worry," he says, "we'll keep your secret." "Thank you young man. So many changes around here lately. I've always tried to save FACE, though." With that, the two interns return to their office, and Cindy resumes her lonely vigil.