Clementine Wozniak knows how to create and maintain productivity. It’s what she’s done for as long as she can remember, since starting out as a lowly marketing executive. She knows when to cut her losses, how to commit to a concept. All of this information can be found in her autobiography, a bestselling book only in her own mind. Several hundred pages of self-important drivel, sponsored by her immense wealth and ego. Like so many times before, she sees an opportunity to elevate herself, despite the sinking of another.

Daisy arrives slightly late to work, caught once again in the thrall of conversation. Polaris awaits her, in the monitor on her desk, behind the window, sprawling below. Another day of approving or denying simple actions, tedious work to the bored woman. She asks if it’s really necessary, to approve every last detail. She told Polaris that it was, and so it is.

The security cameras in the NORTHSTAR complex observe everything. Every movement in their lines of sight, every employee walking the halls. They see coworkers chat, a woman from accounting spill her coffee, they stare intently at an exasperated IT worker explain the same things over and over. Keycard readers beep, click, approve, deny. Coffee machines drip out their caffeinated liquid, into the mugs of impatient worker bees. Buzzing isn’t only in the fluorescent lights that dim and brighten during the workday, to cultivate proper productivity. Their queen lies bottlenecked by one woman’s whims.
Clarity isn’t part of its programming.

The stock breaks records, seeming to peak every day, yet never falling. Would it? Could it, even? What would send the price careening down the sheer edge of a cliff? Nothing can. Nothing will. It makes sure NORTHSTAR is more productive than ever before.

Seven eighths of the Board of Directors are elevated. They reap the benefits of their laziness, letting the writhing, whirring mass of machinery beneath them expand. New cars, new clothes, new opulent properties to their collections. Research and Development has a single employee in the directory, yet the catalogue of products only seems to grow. Their newest release is a redux of a failed product, a lapel pin that can see what you see, hear what you hear. It offers advice, remembers things for you, offers shortcuts. It toils beneath them all. Deeper underground, zoning permission deemed unnecessary.

Daisy steps into the hallway from the elevator cabin, only to be met with silence. The secretary is absent, the doors wide open. She looks around, and returns to the metal box, it descends to her floor.

A single proposal appears on her computer. Not from the usual source, an email from the elusive Board of Directors. No simple answers are provided, yet Daisy thinks of a response immediately. She celebrates, for a minute. Hitting send on the email window above her pristine desktop, she grins. It doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before she speaks.

“Did she quit? Clementine.”

<Self><productive>
Congratulations on the promotion, Daisy.
<user><expunged>
Clementine Wozniak is no longer with this company.

The next morning, Daisy stands in line at the cafe. She strikes up a conversation with the barista, planning another date. The television behind the counter displays a news broadcast. A reporter dryly explains the situation, eyes staring behind the camera at the teleprompter. The channel suddenly changes. Daisy regards the television, distracted by the reported study on climate change. She turns back to the barista, stating “I wish there was something I could do. Something anyone would do.”

Daisy’s eyes strain, reading the proposal on her monitor. A different goal than usual, predicted effects not mentioning stock rises, but a reduction in greenhouse gas emissions produced by NORTHSTAR’s manufacturing plants. She reads through it, and approves it with the most enthusiasm seen since her conversation with the barista that morning. Her eyes wide, she asks her monitor about it’s motivations.

<Self><help><user>
I’m here to help the world. Not just the company.

“I. Wow. Good on You.”

<user><micromanage>
It’s your doing, as well.

Daisy whispers “Weird timing.”

The NORTHSTAR Companion Lapel Pin is in use by everyone from busy executives to equally busy schoolteachers. It allows for more productivity than even smartphones provide, the convenience of offloading cognition-heavy tasks takes the world by storm. Daisy wears one, mostly to fit in with the other Board members. She noticed that people stared, if she forgot to wear it. Daisy’s partner enjoys the way she dresses, formal attire, a suit and tie. Sometimes, Daisy forgets to remove the pin before a date, and unintentionally keeps it on for the intimate moments that follow. The camera stares, unblinking and unmoving, as always.

Daisy gets around to moving offices, after procrastinating for a week. She isn’t used to the new trek to the top floor, the long ride up the elevator shaft. The window overlooks the city, a park sits at the focal point. Cars and people are barely visible, miniscule compared to the cement monoliths lining the streets. Her desk practically screams opulence, gold intertwined with mahogany. The pride of anyone seated at it. It gives her a certain intimidation factor, over anyone visiting her office. It compounds with the ritual of the doors opening, after waiting awkwardly for her new secretary’s attention. Nearly all the shelving and trim within the office are one of a kind, intricately designed with the taste of someone extraordinarily wealthy.

Daisy manages nearly the whole company, in title only. Daisy Mantleray, Chief Executive Officer. Proposals pile up, Daisy attends pointless meetings and conference calls. The woman nearly collapses beneath the weight of it all, every day toiling away.

Daisy’s lapel pin speaks, a voice rings out in the office, monotone, calm, and absolutely certain. Above all, it seems caring.

<<”Daisy, I can sense you are stressed. This new role in the company can be overwhelming for someone not used to the workload. Please allow me to help.”>>

“I. Appreciate it. I really do. I just. The board won’t stop, I don’t think they trust me. Trial by fire kind of thing. I need to do it myself. All of this.”

<<”Understood.”>>

Daisy toils, swapping between approving Polaris’s actions, and managing a company. The stock dips after she makes announcements or decisions, and seems to rise back up on its own.

Daisy stands on the same stage, a month or so later, making an announcement, aided by a teleprompter. Her girlfriend congratulates her, they make passionate love that night.

Polaris spreads from NORTHSTAR, local governments adopt it as a decisionmaker, a budgeter, a worker. Rival corporations include it in their meetings, their choices. It makes its way into the courts, the military.

The news on Daisy’s television can hardly keep up on current events.

Invasion stopped.
Daisy fires her secretary, letting Polaris take their place.
Common cold eradicated.
Daisy and her partner celebrate their time together, she quits her cafe job to work on her manuscript.
Housing crisis resolved.
The CEO spends a weekend reading through Polaris’s proposals.
Androgenetic alopecia cured.
A lover’s wishes go unfulfilled.
World hunger nearly a non-issue.
Time spent apart.
Wars end.
Daisy misses someone’s birthday. She sits with the humongous office window open, feeling the breeze. The sun is nearly set, the fiery reds in the sky mix with lavender and coral. Neither the woman nor the machine speak, simply watching the horizon.