Page 157 - Just Deserts
P. 157

Scrubbers

        had  seen  people  talk  their  way  into  jobs  before.  Once  hired,  they
        would experiment and improvise on the computer, hoping to get the
        hang  of  it  in  a  hurry.  But  3F  would  not  tolerate  that  sort  of
        deception. So Molly waited while Ms. Cort put her purse in a desk
        drawer, adjusted the height of the chair, and put on the headset.
          “Have you set me up as a user already?” she asked.
          “Yes.  Your  ID  is  your  social  security  number.”  Molly  watched
        carefully as the woman’s fingers flew over the keyboard, setting up
        her own  user profile in  the system. The supervisor  was impressed;
        despite  the  new-hire’s  youth  and  her  first-day-on-the-job  business
        suit,  she  obviously  was  no  stranger  to  computerized  inventory
        systems. Had Molly seen her on the street, she would have pegged
        her for an academic or technical type, not a data entry drudge. But
        looks were deceiving, and times were tough; 3F had no qualms about
        putting over-qualified people in low-paying semi-skilled jobs if they
        were willing to work and not agitate for unreasonable benefits.
          The  traffic  control  operators  functioned  merely  as  human
        interfaces to software which made all the real decisions. Dispatchers
        intercepted  shipping  orders  and  bills  of  lading  as  they  became
        available on the floor, and verbally transmitted the relevant codes to
        the  women  upstairs  via  cordless  telephone.  Those  codes,  once
        entered and validated by the system, would be processed immediately
        by the mainframe computer, yielding an optimized plan for moving
        the  relevant  goods.  The  controller  could  see  the  summarized
        documents on the screen as well as the traffic plan, and was charged
        with communicating that data to the floor. Each warehouseman was
        patched into a locator system, enabling ICS-2000 to determine who
        should  do  which  task,  delivering  which  order  by  what  route  to  or
        from which storage area. 3F was one of the original test sites of ICS-
        2000, and still one of its most efficient users.
          Molly tapped Althea on the shoulder.
          “The system, as you probably know, has a lot of features to help if
        you get stuck; and don’t worry about making a mistake or causing the
        computer to crash: it has all kinds of safeguards to keep you out of
        any sensitive areas, like looking at payroll data.”
          Althea laughed again, her eyes inscrutable behind oversized tinted
        glasses. “Oh, I know all about that,” she said. “It won’t let me load a
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