4.
Getting into Titan was like gaining access to a top-secret CIA vault. Visitors passed through multiple security checks on the way inside. Before you reached the inner lobby, you had to run the gauntlet between two receptionists, each wearing an earset and bearing a tablet.
“Welcome to Titan!” said the one on the left, a bit robotically. Wel-come to Ti-tan.
The one on the right coolly appraised him as she handed over her tablet. “Please review our visitor guidelines and sign your name at the bottom.”
He scrolled through four screens, each containing a dozen paragraphs written in tiny text. From what he could tell, visitors promised to not divulge any secrets, to refrain from taking or posting photos, and to offer their firstborn child as tribute to Titan’s CEO. Jake always found the restrictions on social media use especially ironic. Wasn’t this a company that had made billions of dollars getting people to constantly check their online feeds?
Still, once you’d signed your life away and were granted access to the main campus, the top-secret CIA vault turned into the Hotel California of tech companies. The powers that ruled the Titan kingdom did everything they could to keep employees on-site, offering personal trainers, dry cleaning, and a full schedule of social activities that took place in the evenings. Jake always found it to be a jarring transition.
He brightened up when Zach met him at the entrance. Even though they lived just a few hours apart, two months had passed since their last visit. “It’s been too long!” they each said at the same time.
After greeting each other with a hug, Zach paused for effect. “So, you ready for the main event?”
“Hell yeah!” said Jake. “I ran six miles this morning, so I’m well prepared.”
The main event was lunch, and no visit to Titan was complete without an extended tour of the cafeteria. The company maintained an in-house kitchen that rivaled the better restaurants in the area. If you were following the latest fad diet, you’d find plenty of options to choose from. If you wanted something more nostalgic, they had that covered, too—no matter if nostalgia for you came in the form of blueberry pancakes or masala dosas.
Jake had learned to not eat breakfast before coming for lunch. Best of all: it was all free. You just walked in and took whatever you wanted. The first time he’d visited, he was amazed. He kept expecting the robotic receptionists to lock the doors and refuse to let him leave until he’d washed dishes for a year.
This was his fourth visit, and by now he understood the quid pro quo. If you were going to sign away your life to enter the building, you might as well enjoy a nice meal while you were there.
They loaded their plates with farm-fresh vegetables and a spicy Thai curry. When they set them down and went back for beverages, Zach steered them to a kombucha station that had been recently installed. It offered a choice between two flavors, hazelnut–goji berry and mango-lime. A smiling server asked which one they’d like to try.
When Jake hesitated, she explained that one was better for mental clarity, and the other could help him feel less anxious.
“Do you have one that will make my student loan payment?” he asked.
When she didn’t answer, he pointed to the one on the right. Feeling less anxious couldn’t hurt.
* * *
—
Jake settled in to enjoy the best lunch he’d had since the last time he was here. If only I lived closer, he thought, I could cut waaay back on meal expenses.
“So, Zach, what was it you wanted to tell me?” On the phone he’d mentioned he had some big news.
“Let’s not talk about it here,” Zach said. “I never know who’s listening.”
“Wow, okay.” It really was like the CIA, just with better food and free dry cleaning. For the rest of the meal they talked about other things. Liza, their sister, was graduating high school next year. Instead of going to college right away, she was planning to take a gap year, traveling through Asia and volunteering in different countries. Jake and Zach were hoping to give her a surprise present at Christmas: an offer to pay for her first month’s worth of hostel stays. It was another thing Jake worried about—Liza deserved it, and he wanted to be a good brother—but where would the money come from?
They finished their lunch and went outside, stopping by a picnic table that offered a plate of enormous chocolate chip cookies sprinkled with sea salt. It was instinctual: they each reached over to grab one, flashing each other a smile as they did. Meanwhile, a guy from engineering who looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in a while was stashing extras in his backpack.
“This is how they keep you!” the pale engineer said as he staggered off.
On a Saturday, the place was less crowded, but not by much. The parking lot was filled with BMWs and Teslas that spent most of their time off duty. Near the main entrance, a fleet of roving shuttles carried employees to and from downtown. Company policy “encouraged” them to use the shuttles, not least of all because the vehicles were equipped with high-speed internet and would allow people to work during their commute.
When the coast was clear, Zach looked up. “Here’s the thing, Jake. This is my last month at Titan.” He spoke in a low voice as they walked on the lawn. “I’m going to join a new company that’s in the process of getting funded.”
“Whoa! That is big news!” Jake said. “This place always felt like a combination of prison and day care to me. I never thought you’d leave.”
“Ha, yeah. It has its perks. But I really want to be part of pioneering something, and I think I’ve found the next big thing. Do you remember Kevin?”
Of course he did. How could he forget Kevin Quan? Zach and his freshman college roommate had kept in touch even when they moved out of the dorms and to separate apartments. After graduation, Zach went to Titan and Kevin went back to Singapore, where his family was from.
Kevin was not someone you could erase from memory. Always enthusiastic to the point of being hard to handle, Jake’s impression was that he was best enjoyed in small doses.
One time Zach went to Las Vegas with a group of Kevin’s friends, and they ended up getting into trouble. Jake never heard how it started, but he knew it ended with all of them withdrawing money from an ATM to bail Kevin out of jail. All that was missing from the story was Mike Tyson and a live tiger.
“I know he can be hard to handle sometimes,” Zach said, “but he’s got a big vision for a new social network called Buzzard. Not only that, but he’s managed to land a first round of funding of $20 million from some big-shot venture capitalist. There’s a team of twelve right now, and if I enter at this stage, I’ll get paid in equity and can come out the other side with enough money to do whatever I want.”