The Insecure Mind of Sergei Kraev by Eric Silberstein

Author:Eric Silberstein [Silberstein, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781737351924
Publisher: Liu Book Group

There’s something disconcerting about the virtual space. He remembers having the same thought in past years, too. For decades, ever since the hackathon went virtual, it’s been held in a cavernous hall that resembles an old airplane hangar. The roof, covering an unbroken rectangular surface of what must be eight to ten thousand square meters, is supported by steel double trusses extending from the perimeter. The building looks like it could actually exist in physical space, which it probably does, or at least did at some point. And that’s what’s strange, because he’s used to virtual meeting spaces that pay no regards to the principles of structural engineering.

He joins the thousands of other hackathon participants at one end of the hall and listens to the organizer explain the rules. “If you have an idea, line up over here. In a moment you’ll tell your idea to the group and describe what type of help you need. Then we’ll form teams and get to work. Forty-four hours from now, at five p.m. on Sunday, we’ll assemble for demos. Our judging panel will score each team, we’ll announce the winners, and then, for those of you still awake, we’ll close with some networking and games.”

Sergei hesitates, then makes his way to the line. His pulse quickens. It shouldn’t since this whole thing is for fun, but speaking in front of a group this size is nerve-racking, especially when it’s about his own idea that he hasn’t yet vetted with anyone. Plus there are some pretty serious engineers here, including the Xyloom colleagues he did the cheese project with last year.

He finds a spot in the line and turns to face the crowd. Looks like everyone who intends to pitch an idea has assembled. Then one last person steps forward. He tracks her movement as she walks directly toward him, her eyes fixed not on him, but somewhere else, perhaps the gap between him and his neighbor. His breath catches. She joins the row, slotting in next to him, then turns to the person on her right. “Hi, I’m Nadezhda.”

Something about her. Dirty blond hair, warm smile, merino-timbred voice, reed-like body, skinny jeans, T-shirt with a looping animation of a hedgehog strumming a balalaika. Somehow he noticed all of that even though he’s normally oblivious to these things. Is she real? He checks. Yes, she’s projecting her natural appearance with less than one percent embellishment. The last time he had this type of visceral reaction was sixteen years ago when he saw Karima for the first time, a moment he tries never to think about.

In the next second, a bit of depression. He was excited to throw himself into the hackathon this weekend. He doesn’t need a reminder that he’s divorced, past his prime, and that a person like Nadezhda, who must be ten years younger, would never be interested in him.

Is that necessarily true? She’s at a hackathon; maybe she likes hackers. Plus she’s probably Russian. She has a Russian name, and

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