Now it was Rosalind’s turn to be the professor. She stood beside the whiteboard and presented to Jasper, who had summoned the same empty stare that his students would hold often have in his lectures. Rose had high hopes that Jasper’s literary background and narrative bent would make him a useful partner in crime in unveiling the culprit behind the sabotaged launch.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said excitedly. “We’ll pick a person on the whiteboard, I’ll give you details on them, and then you’ll give me your read. Repeat ad nauseam with everyone on the board until we’ve found the culprit. Sound fair?”

“You know that just because I teach literature doesn’t mean I’m a mystery novel expert, right?”

“Shh, you’re gonna be great.” Rosalind rhythmically tapped her finger on her chin. “So, who do ya wanna know about first?”

Jasper furrowed his brow. From his vantagepoint, everyone on the board looked like an uninteresting stranger, though he did appreciate the craftsmanship that went into making the whiteboard look as intricate as it was. With no real enthusiasm, he pointed to the headshot of the woman with the big frizzy hair and the perfect smile. “I suppose she looks pretty interesting?” he lied.

“Great choice!” said Rosalind, “Just gotta get into the zone now.”

She started shaking some nerves off from her arms and legs, did some light stretches, took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “Look,” she said with a cheeky grin, “I’m being vulnerable with you.”

Jasper extended a thumbs up. “I’m happy for you.”

–

She sank deep into her imagination, and as she did, the walls of the XPeriential company building slowly assembled around her. Half of her was now back there, stepping into the moment as if it were the present, the other half scrutinizing the details like a skeptical narrator.

In the vision, she walked down the wide and elegant halls of the building with Willow, idiosyncratic concept art framed on the walls around them. The two of them were deep in conversation. Rosalind narrated the scene to Jasper.

“Willow was one of the newer additions to the engineering team at XPeriential. As the two of us grew close, I realized quickly just how much of a badass she was. She would always speak her mind whether you liked it or not.”

The scene around her dissolved and reassembled into another moment, where Willow was presenting at the front of a boardroom, a large interactive screen embedded in the wall beside her, graced with pictures of design documentation. Willow was making an impassioned plea for the team to revisit one of the key gameplay features of XPeriential Points ahead of the launch. Rosalind, seated at one of the chairs in the boardroom, smiled proudly at her friend’s thoughtful case. Beside her, Martin was zoned out, answering emails on his phone.

“But it went beyond that,” Rosalind continued. “She always had a pulse on how everyone was doing. It was almost like she could read your soul, y’know?”

The surroundings dismantled yet again, this time forming into the scene of a late night at the office. Engineers of various shades of exhausted occupied desks that lay sporadically apart.

Rosalind’s eyes were set straight ahead at the lines of code displayed on the monitor in front of her. The code, for reasons she was struggling to uncover, wasn’t working the way she’d intended to. She tapped her fist against her forehead in annoyance. The motion grew increasingly intense as she carved through the text to no avail.

A tap on her shoulder brought momentary respite. It was Willow, who’d put her hands on Rose’s chair and turned it ninety degrees away from the desk. She pulled her own chair beside Rosalind, and with it, brought a large bowl of chips.

“She always knew I loved Ruffles,” said Rosalind.

The two shared the bowl of chips while laughing over that week’s gossip.

“What?” interjected Jasper from outside of Rosalind’s imagination. “What do Ruffles have to do with anything?”

“Oh, you can’t see what I’m seeing, but basically, I’m picturing a moment when Willow was super nice to me,”

“Ah, very helpful,” said Jasper sarcastically.

“Shhh, you’re ruining the moment. Where was I? Right! Most important of all… she always had my back.”

With that thought, Rosalind’s mind turned to a new moment. In this instance, Rosalind was pacing back and forth in front of a boardroom that she was sure she had booked. Wondering why the group in the room was taking so long, she pressed her ear to the door. Despite the thickness of the door, she could make out some muffled shouting. It was a back and forth between two voices, one familiar to her and one that she didn’t know. As the argument crescendoed, she faintly heard Willow’s voice saying: “You and I both know that was Rose’s feature, and she should be the one getting the credit!”.

Rosalind couldn't help but smile at the fact that she had a friend looking out for her behind closed doors. She then glanced at her watch, and realizing that she was beyond late for a video call, she then ran off to find the closest vacant room.

–

Rosalind’s relaxed exhale was paired with a smile. She opened her eyes, exiting from the dynamic shifting surroundings and returning to the stable reality of the hotel room with her Watson.

“So… what did you think of her?” Rosalind asked.

The prevailing thought in Jasper’s mind was jealousy. He really wanted to take a nap and found it unfair that Rosalind was allowed to close her eyes as part of this exercise. Nonetheless, he addressed the question. “Well, uh, she seems terrific. Splendid, even! A-plus.”

She smirked, squinting her eyes at Jasper as if that would help her really read this strange man. She closed the distance between them with a few steps. “Do you actually mean that? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I mean it! This Willow girl stood up for you, and she fed you chips, both of those being things that a criminal would never do!” he said.

“Jasper. I closed my eyes and showed you how I work through puzzles. I was vulnerable.”

He found it very strange that this nothing moment seemed meaningful for her.

“Now it’s your turn,” she continued. “Tell me what you actually think. I’m a tough girl. I promise I can handle it.”

Jasper sighed, disappointed to realize that his poker face had diminished in potency over the years. He decided to come clean with a more genuine take.

“I’m sure she’s great,” he said. “My problem is, I can’t trust someone when they do all the right things. By all accounts, her words and her actions are perfect. But can you say for certain you know how the gears in her mind are turning? What if she hates you? What if she hates everyone? What if she’s cultivated a persona that wins people over by being vulnerable, expressive, and empathetic? It’s probably an effective angle to take when you’re new to a company, and by all accounts it’s seemed to have worked! You’re someone who curries favor at the company, and you’re singing her praises to a stranger! Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t a good person after all, just an effective manipulator?”

Rosalind squeezed through an attempt at a nod. Simultaneously, she folded her bottom lip into her mouth and bit on it.

“I'm not at all saying that she goes to the top of my suspects list,” Jasper continued. “Or that she’s a full-blown twenty-four seven Machiavellian machine. Not saying that. What I am suggesting is that she could simply be a self-interested agent, who… maybe has some secret reasons or whatnot for sabotaging the launch?”

Rosalind attempted another nod, forcing her head up against gravity and then releasing it back to its resting position. She repeated this bizarre motion a few times.

“Your thoughts on my theory?” Jasper asked with genuine curiosity.

Rosalind tried, unsuccessfully, to find the right words. “My thoughts? Yeah, huh, what are my thoughts? I respect your opinion of course. I did ask for it. I think it’s wrong. Like, painfully wrong. So wrong that I kind of want to hit you, you know? Which sounds crazy, right?! ‘Cause I was totally rooting for you to be right, but you totally blew it, which is okay because we’re allowed to make mistakes. But yeah, I dunno. I think just right now my thoughts are that I want to hit you I think. Does that make any sense?”

Jasper looked disturbed. “What?”

“Like, your read on Willow, it’s just like, so off that I’m almost like wow. ‘Cause, like, Willow is genuinely the bomb, and you know she really cares about other people –”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Then why’d you put her on the board?!”

“I was trying to see if you were a good judge of character!”

“You mean to tell me that you baked a test into this already pointless exercise?!”

“First off, this is serious business. Second, sorry for putting a photo of an angel twenty inches from your face only for you to not realize that you were being blessed,” said Rosalind. She turned to face the photo of Willow on the whiteboard. “Seriously, she’s so perfect.”

“Alright!” Jasper shouted, realizing that Rosalind maybe wasn’t as mature as she’d initially let on. “Let’s try someone else then. Why don’t you pick this time?”

“Fine,” said Rosalind as she scanned the faces on the whiteboard. With mock hesitation, she eventually placed her finger on the photo of a striking gentleman. “What about this guy? Do you wanna hear his story?”

“Sure.”

Immediately, she fell into her ritual again. With the pulling in of a deep breath, she returned to her mind palace.

As soon as Jasper saw her eyes shuttered closed, he matched the motion, excited to sneak in some rest.

–

Rosalind’s thoughts returned to the XPeriential company premises on what looked like a busy day. She stood in the middle of the buzzing energy, conversations, and idea-sharing, her eyes fixed on one man: a tall gentleman sporting a sharp crew cut and a pineapple-patterned button-up, quietly thinking to himself.

“No one at the office would’ve told you that Brent was an amazing programmer, or a brilliant designer, or particularly gifted at anything really. What they would’ve said instead was that he was kind, he always tried his best, and yeah, he may have been a little bit dreamy.”

A new moment materialized: Rosalind was standing beside Brent’s desk, pointing at his monitor and giving him advice on his code. Brent listened intently from his seat like a well-trained golden retriever hanging out with its owner.

“Word of advice, men. If you want us to like you, try active listening. It’s a great place to start.”

In an instant, Rosalind’s mind palace shifted away from this moment, cutting to the bustling city streets on an evening backdrop. She was making her way home, headphones in. Usually unflappable during her commute, this time she saw something that made her do a double-take. She retracted her steps to get a better view.

Across the street, she caught sight of Brent. This time, he stood in the heart of a soccer field, skillfully showcasing basic moves to a group of eager elementary school kids, playing the role of a soccer coach.

“And just when you thought he couldn’t be any more perfect…”

–

Jasper snapped his fingers in front of Rosalind’s face, jolting her from her daydream.

“What?!” she asked.

“Is this another test?!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you describing another saint-like person you worked with to see if I can read people?!”

Rosalind stalled.

“Well that depends,” she said. “What do you think of him?”

He exhaled out of his nostrils, speaking slowly and intentionally to avoid flying off the handle. “From everything you said in your description of him… he sounds like a stand-up guy.”

“Yay!” said Rosalind. She gave Jasper a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You passed the test, Charlie.”

“You’re deranged,” he said.

Jasper’s annoyance bounced off Rosalind like a rubber ball off a wall. Satisfied with his answer, she pulled out a permanent marker from her pocket and decisively crossed out Willow and Brent’s images with a big ‘X’. “I think we’re good to rule out both of these sweethearts,” she said.

“So I suppose now’s a good time to ask, is everyone on this board a puppy-loving, god-fearing effective altruist?” asked Jasper.

“Oh no, there are some suuuuuuper shady people on this whiteboard.”

“Great! Do you think we could move on to one of them, then?!”

“Oh, yes. Yes we can. We can move on to someone reaaaaally shady.”

An awkward silence between Jasper and Rosalind.

“Well then great,” said Jasper. “Proceed?”

She closed her eyes.

–

The dark under her eyelids transformed into a room lined with towering bookshelves.

She was in XPeriential’s second floor library. Rosalind navigated through the aisles, trying to spot a particular book on design thinking that Willow had been raving about. As her fingers traced the spines of the books, a gap in the shelves revealed a lone woman sitting in the corner table of the library. The woman, who looked oddly uneasy, had her laptop, piles of books, and scattered notes on the table in front of her.

Rosalind watched as the woman closed her laptop, got up, and headed toward the bathroom.

Intrigued by this woman who she hadn’t seen around the office before, Rosalind walked up to the table and examined some of the books the woman had brought with her. Some of the titles included:

“Why Humanity is a Blight on Mother Earth” by R.C. Knowles

"The Unmistakable Pros and Trivial Cons of an AI Apocalypse" by Shelley Arnst.

“Death, Death, and More Death” by Michael “Death” Carlisle

She gasped. She examined the scattered notes on the table, noticing documentation focused on how to make the pain of in-game NPCs more realistic (including a sequence of storyboard-like illustrations depicting an NPC transitioning from standing tall to collapsing and curling up in the fetal position after getting berated by a player), as well as a long essay she had written about how a society organized under the rules of the XPeriential Points game would be a more effective form of governance.

She heard a sound and noticed the mystery woman shuffling out of the bathroom, and quickly scampered off in a panic.

–

Rosalind opened her eyes to the sight of Jasper contemplating deeply.

“I looked her up in the staff directory after. Her name is August Mayberry. Even her name is creepy! Definitely prime suspect material, right?”

Jasper grimaced. “I kind of like her, actually.”

“What on earth are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think she’s harmless.”

“Oh-kay. So what, you think being a contrarian all the time makes you more interesting?”

“No, no I don’t actually. I think forcing someone into your party, asking them for their opinion, and then challenging them every step of the way makes you interesting! Sorry, not interesting. Crazy. Unwell. Does that help?”

That one stung a little. “I mean you’re in my party because I saved your life so really you owe me one,” she mumbled incoherently, retreating into herself. “But yeah sure whatever, floor is yours.”

Jasper approached the whiteboard as he gathered his thoughts.

“So, you’ve described to me a reclusive, awkward, sinister-seeming narrative designer. She’s immersed herself in strange, anti-human, world-ending concepts and is exploring how to make fictional pain look more realistic. You’re convinced that someone like her would want to sabotage the launch.”

Rosalind shot a ‘well duh’ look at Jasper.

“My theory is different. I think that a creative with troubled thoughts putting themselves in a role where any pain they inflict is theoretical… is a good person. She has self-awareness. She knows that she might be capable of great evil, so instead of running for office, she works on video games. Modern day saint, if you ask me. We should all try to be more like her.”

“Let me guess, you also think humanity is a blight on planet earth, don’t you?”

“Well sure! I think it’s a totally valid opinion. I read that last book, by the way. Death, Death, and More Death by Michael Carlisle? It’s his memoir. He spent his whole life studying the decline of the bee population, it’s where he got his “death” nickname from. Riveting book, but not at all about the death of human civilization.”

Rose struggled with all of this. “Can we, like, just think logically about all of this for one second -”

“I am!” Jasper interrupted. “This is my logic. It might not be your logic, but that’s why you asked me for my opinion in the first place! You were gathering information, A/B testing. But now… something isn’t sitting right with you. Something has you rattled.”

Jasper closed in on Rosalind. A student of human behavior himself, he sized her up. She scrunched her face.

“It’s fine, I’m not rattled, y-you might be right. I should… take in what you said, and really chew on it.”

“Great!” said Jasper. “And while you’re at it, you should add Willow and Brent back to the suspects list. As good as people may appear, everyone and I mean everyone has a secret.”

“Mmm,” said Rosalind, pretending to internalize that.

Nonplussed, Jasper approached the board with a newfound sense of purpose. He was having the slightest bit of fun.

“Alright,” Jasper began, motioning to a photograph of another man on the whiteboard. “What about this fella next? He looks a bit interesting.”

Rosalind moved closer, scrutinizing the portrait. “Yeah. Yeah he is.”

Silence as she studied the eyes captured in the headshot. Jasper observed Rosalind’s intense staring contest with the photo with confusion. “He’s really, really interesting,” she continued.

It dawned on her at that moment that this particular man’s story would require her to share more about herself than she had initially intended. Regretting putting his photo up on the whiteboard in the first place, she pressed on.

“Hello?” Jasper asked, waving a hand in front of Rosalind’s face.

“Yes, okay, okay, we’ll get into it. Yeesh.”

–

Rosalind’s mind brought forth the XPeriential company yet again, but this time, it wasn’t the towering modern office and its sleek corridors. Instead, it was a messy studio loft. There were fans humming in every corner, and GPU towers standing tall among clusters of monitors, forming a makeshift render farm. The desks were slightly askew, and were buried under a sea of notes, cables, and tables. Clothes and dishes were scattered about, and from below, the faint echo of arcade games being played could be heard.

Martin, standing in front of a whiteboard of his own, was doing calculations while muttering to himself.

Sitting nearby, Rosalind claimed a spot at a pair of worn tables pushed together. Opposite her, separated by the two monitors on the desks, was Aziz: stubble, large spectacles on, and dressed like a hipster’s hipster. Other engineers and designers worked in scattered locations around the apartment, and as Martin’s muttering to himself mid-formula grew louder and more self-deprecating, a few of them couldn’t help but laugh. Martin paid no mind.

Rosalind joined the laughter, her giggle eventually turning into a snort that brought on even more laughs from the group. She caught an amused gaze from Aziz and returned it. Strangely, they let the stare between them last for a little longer than normal.

“Me and Aziz go way back. In a lot of ways, you could say he’s the person I was closest with at the company.”

The stare lingered before they finally broke it off and returned to their work. Occasionally, one would sneak a quick look at the other, but it was always when the other was distracted.

“Ahhh look at you two lovebirds,” chimed Jasper, intruding into Rosalind’s mind palace. He materialized in the corner of the apartment. He was eating grapes, for some reason.