They’ve Got a Secret

The interview process is done for the Resolver positions I applied for, and the Tulip told me that the decisions are made on who will get the job offers.  But nobody can know who’s chosen!  Oh, no . . . Human Resources is in a snit because they weren’t invited to the party, and have insisted that everything must be sent to them for review, and don’t anyone be so presumptuous as to ask when they will be through reviewing!  We Must Not Question the Ineffable Wisdom of HR!  The Tulip, however, is unimpressed and is going to make Evil Nasty Remarks to the managers involved when he’s up in Gemini next week at the same time as some of the other managers involved.  And when the Tulip gets pissed off, his wrath shakes the earth.  You do not want to have him mad at you, period.

I was one of the ones who made it past all three technical rounds to the final panel interview with the Tulip, his Number Two, and three other members of the team.  There was also another level-one tech whom I know by sight but not to speak to; she just sat and took notes, asking no questions.  I guessed she was included to give a peasant opinion of whether she thought the candidates would get on well with the L1s.  Thanks to Smiley’s coaching, I handled the interview with much more than my usual ability.  Generally I’m left completely flat-footed by at least one question, but in this case I was able to come up with answers to every question they asked, with almost no hemming and hawing as I considered what to say.  Smiley had also advised me to have some questions of my own ready for the team, which I just about never do in interviews—generally I feel that until I get into the job, I simply don’t know enough to know what questions are sensible.  However, this time I came up with some and was pleased to think they even pertained to the job pretty well.

Ever since the interview, Smiley has been acting as though he knew I was one of the Chosen Few, but I’m afraid to let myself think he might be right.  I firmly believe the gods will punish hubris and over-confidence, particularly public over-confidence, is ill-advised.  Thus, I keep telling myself that while I think I did rather better than I normally do, I still might not be the best candidate of the available pool and might not get chosen, and I shouldn’t get my hopes up.  It hurts too badly if I’m wrong.

A polychrome conure directs the Istanbul Sinfonia.  Fnord.