Oh, right. Normal people probably needed to do that. Watt considered doing as she said; but then, what good was it to be normal? MIT wasn’t interviewing for normal.
“Three million two hundred thirty nine thousand and ninety-nine,” he said instead. “That’s what you were going to ask, right? How many golf balls can fit in the elevator car?”
Thanks, Nadia, he thought in relief. Finally, an interview question he knew precisely how to answer.
It took a moment for Watt to realize that Vivian didn’t seem all that impressed.
“Who told you?” she demanded. “Someone told you that question ahead of time. Who was it?”
“What? N-no one,” Watt stuttered. “I just did it in my head.”
“No one is that fast,” Vivian snapped, and Watt felt like a complete idiot, because of course she was right. No human was that fast.
“Here,” he said, “I’ll walk you through my mental math.” He sketched all the numbers out for her—it was a simple multiplication problem, really; the trick was remembering to subtract the golf balls that you’d double-and triple-counted, on the sides and corners of the imaginary cube. But Vivian still looked livid.
“We have no tolerance for cheaters at MIT. Should you ever get a chance to work with quantum computers, you’ll see how incredibly powerful they are.” You have no idea, he wanted to say. “Their processing capabilities truly defy comprehension. Do you know what quantum computers are used for in today’s world?” she finished abruptly.
“The Department of Defense, NASA, financial institutions—”
“Exactly. Which means that they traffic in incredibly sensitive information: people’s identification numbers, bank passcodes, issues of national security. Data that cannot be compromised at any cost. Don’t you see why the individuals who work with them need to be of unimpeachable integrity?” Vivian shook her head. “I would never allow someone who cheated anywhere near a quantum computer.”
“I didn’t cheat,” Watt said again, though of course that wasn’t true. He’d cheated simply by bringing Nadia into this interview. “I’m just really good at mental math. It’s why I joined the math club,” he added hopelessly, fighting off a sinking sense of despair.
“I hope so. Because if I thought you had done anything morally questionable, I wouldn’t have invited you to campus today.”
Watt tried not to squirm. He’d done plenty of morally questionable things—lying about Eris’s death, breaking into the police files about Mariel, not to mention building Nadia. He hoped his face didn’t betray how much his heart was pounding. Suddenly all he could hear was that soft, inescapable hissing sound of the sand falling through the hourglass, each grain of it marking a moment less of this single crucial interview.
“Now, moving on,” Vivian said smoothly. “What’s your favorite book?”
Favorite book? Watt hadn’t actually read a full-length text for himself since he was thirteen. He just had Nadia compose summaries for him.
Pride and Prejudice, Nadia suggested, and Watt vaguely remembered that he was supposed to have read it for English class at some point, so it was clearly a good option. He went ahead and said it.
“Really,” Vivian replied woodenly. “Jane Austen.”
Nadia had pulled up a synopsis of the work, but Watt had a sickening sense that Nadia’s prompts weren’t really helping him. He tried to talk over the new, unformulated fear that was clogging his throat, making his brain slow down. “I love that book, the way that Darcy is so prideful and Elizabeth is prejudiced,” he babbled—but wait, was that wrong? “And of course she is also prideful, and he’s prejudiced,” he added miserably.
Vivian stared at him for another beat. The disappointment was clear in her eyes. “I think we’re done here,” she said quietly, reaching for the hourglass. “You’re free to go.”
Watt finally found his voice. “This isn’t fair. I’m applying for a computer science degree. What do you care what I read?”
“Mr. Bakradi, half the students who come in here tell me that Pride and Prejudice is their favorite book. You think that’s an accurate indication of the population, or do you think it’s because I listed it as my favorite book, at the top of my public profile on the feeds?”
Oh, crap.
“I don’t want to know my own favorite book; I want to know yours!” She let out a frustrated breath. “It’s clear to me that you’re smart and good with numbers, but that isn’t enough to work with quantum computers. The whole point of the interview was for me to get to know you as a person. I wanted to see some individuality, some texture. I wanted someone who will put himself out there, not cut corners and try to tell me what I want to hear. I’m sorry this didn’t work out, but you’ll find the right place.” She smiled—a thin, watery smile, the first time she’d smiled during the whole interview. “Can you have Harold send in the next candidate?”
Watt didn’t move. He couldn’t move. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her properly. Surely this wasn’t over.
Watt, Nadia prodded. When he still didn’t react, she sent a little zap of electricity down his spine, and it forced him into action.
Somehow, amid the great roar of the entire world crumbling to pieces around him, Watt managed to thank Vivian. In the waiting room, the heads of all the other candidates darted up eagerly, counting the minutes, realizing that he must have failed. Their eyes stayed locked on him as he walked past, as if they were predators stalking a wounded prey, watching it leave a bloody trail behind it.