PUBLISHED BY
ALFRED A. KNOPF
& ALFRED A. KNOPF CANADA
PUBLISHED BY
MCSWEENEY S BOOKS
SAN FRANCISCO
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK
Copyright 2013 by Dave Eggers
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House LLC, New York, and in Canada by Alfred A. Knopf Canada, a division of Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto, Penguin Random House Companies.
www.aaknopf.com
www.randomhouse.ca
www.mcsweeneys.net
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.
Knopf Canada and colophon are trademarks.
McSweeneys and colophon are registered trademarks of McSweeneys, a privately held company with wildly fluctuating resources.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental .
Cataloging-in-Publication data is available from the Library of Congress and from Library and Archives Canada.
eBook ISBN: 978-0-345-80860-8
Jacket design by Jessica Hische
v3.1
There wasnt any limit, no boundary at all, to the future. And it would be so a man wouldnt have room to store his happiness. J OHN S TEINBECK
East of Eden
Contents
M Y GOD , M AE thought. Its heaven.
The campus was vast and rambling, wild with Pacific color, and yet the smallest detail had been carefully considered, shaped by the most eloquent hands. On land that had once been a shipyard, then a drive-in movie theater, then a flea market, then blight, there were now soft green hills and a Calatrava fountain. And a picnic area, with tables arranged in concentric circles. And tennis courts, clay and grass. And a volleyball court, where tiny children from the companys daycare center were running, squealing, weaving like water. Amid all this was a workplace, too, four hundred acres of brushed steel and glass on the headquarters of the most influential company in the world. The sky above was spotless and blue.
Mae was making her way through all of this, walking from the parking lot to the main hall, trying to look as if she belonged. The walkway wound around lemon and orange trees and its quiet red cobblestones were replaced, occasionally, by tiles with imploring messages of inspiration. Dream, one said, the word laser-cut into the red stone. Participate, said another. There were dozens: Find Community. Innovate. Imagine. She just missed stepping on the hand of a young man in a grey jumpsuit; he was installing a new stone that said Breathe.
On a sunny Monday in June, Mae stopped in front of the main door, standing below the logo etched into the glass above. Though the company was less than six years old, its name and logoa circle surrounding a knitted grid, with a small c in the centerwere already among the best-known in the world. There were over ten thousand employees on this, the main campus, but the Circle had offices all over the globe, and was hiring hundreds of gifted young minds every week. It had been voted the worlds most admired company four years running.
Mae wouldnt have thought she had a chance to work at such a place, but for Annie. Annie was two years older and theyd roomed together for three semesters in college, in an ugly building made habitable through their extraordinary bond, something like friends, something like sisters or cousins who wished they were siblings and would have reason never to be apart. Their first month living together, Mae had broken her jaw one twilight, after fainting, flu-ridden and underfed, during finals. Annie had told her to stay in bed, but Mae had gone to the 7-Eleven for caffeine and woke up on the sidewalk, under a tree. Annie took her to the hospital, and waited as they wired her jaw, and then stayed with Mae, sleeping next to her, in a wooden chair, all night, and then at home, for days, had fed Mae through a straw. It was a fierce level of commitment and competence that Mae had never seen from someone her age or near her age, and Mae was thereafter loyal in a way shed never known she could be.
While Mae was still at Carleton, meandering between majors, from art history to marketing to psychologygetting her degree in psych with no plans to go further in the fieldAnnie had graduated, gotten her MBA from Stanford and was recruited everywhere, but particularly at the Circle, and had landed here days after graduation. Now she had some lofty titleDirector of Ensuring the Future, Annie jokedand had urged Mae to apply for a job. Mae did so, and though Annie insisted she pulled no strings, Mae was sure that Annie had, and she felt indebted beyond all measure. A million people, a billion, wanted to be where Mae was at this moment, entering this atrium, thirty feet high and shot through with California light, on her first day working for the only company that really mattered at all.
She pushed open the heavy door. The front hall was as long as a parade, as tall as a cathedral. There were offices everywhere above, four floors high on either side, every wall made of glass. Briefly dizzy, she looked downward, and in the immaculate glossy floor, she saw her own face reflected, looking worried. She shaped her mouth into a smile, feeling a presence behind her.
You must be Mae.
Mae turned to find a beautiful young head floating atop a scarlet scarf and white silk blouse.
Im Renata, she said.
Hi Renata. Im looking for
Annie. I know. Shes on her way. A sound, a digital droplet, came from Renatas ear. Shes actually Renata was looking at Mae but was seeing something else. Retinal interface, Mae assumed. Another innovation born here.
Shes in the Old West, Renata said, focusing on Mae again, but shell be here soon.
Mae smiled. I hope shes got some hardtack and a sturdy horse.
Renata smiled politely but did not laugh. Mae knew the companys practice of naming each portion of the campus after an historical era; it was a way to make an enormous place less impersonal, less corporate. It beat Building 3B-East, where Mae had last worked. Her last day at the public utility in her hometown had been only three weeks agotheyd been stupefied when she gave noticebut already it seemed impossible shed wasted so much of her life there. Good riddance, Mae thought, to that gulag and all it represented.
Renata was still getting signals from her earpiece. Oh wait, she said, now shes saying shes still tied up over there. Renata looked at Mae with a radiant smile. Why dont I take you to your desk? She says shell meet you there in an hour or so.
Mae thrilled a bit at those words, your desk , and immediately she thought of her dad. He was proud. So proud , hed said on her voicemail; he must have left the message at four a.m. Shed gotten it when shed woken up. So very proud , hed said, choking up. Mae was two years out of college and here she was, gainfully employed by the Circle, with her own health insurance, her own apartment in the city, being no burden to her parents, who had plenty else to worry about.
Mae followed Renata out of the atrium. On the lawn, under dappled light, a pair of young people were sitting on a manmade hill, holding some kind of clear tablet, talking with great intensity.
Youll be in the Renaissance, over here, Renata said, pointing across the lawn, to a building of glass and oxidized copper. This is where all the Customer Experience people are. Youve visited before?
Mae nodded. I have. A few times, but not this building.
Next page