The Circle

was astounding, as they were now doing, awaiting Dream Friday in the
     Great Hall.
    “Pay attention,” Francis said. “I really think you’ll like this.”
    Francis wouldn’t tell Mae what the subject of that Friday’s innovation talk was. The
     speaker, Gus Khazeni, had apparently been part of Francis’s child safety project before
     he spun off, four months ago, to head up a new unit. Today would be his first airing
     of his findings and new plan.
    Mae and Francis sat near the front, at Gus’s request. He wanted to see some friendly
     faces as he spoke, for the first time, in the Great Hall, Francis said. Mae turned
     to scan the crowd, seeing Dan a few rows back, and Renata and Sabine, sitting together,
     concentrating on a tablet laid between them.
    Eamon Bailey stepped onto the stage to warm applause.
    “Well, we really have a treat for you today,” he said. “Most of you know our local
     treasure and jack-of-all-trades, Gus Khazeni. And most of you know he had an inspiration
     a while back that we urged him to follow. Today he’ll do a bit of a presentation,
     and I think you’ll really like it.” And with that, he ceded the stage to Gus, who
     had the odd combination of preternaturally good looks and a timid, mouse-likedemeanor. Or at least it seemed that way, as he pittered across the stage like he
     was tip-toeing.
    “Okay, if you’re like me, you’re single and pathetic and forever a disappointment
     to your Persian mother and father and grandparents, who see you as a failure for not
     having a mate and children by now because you’re pathetic.”
    Laughs from the audience.
    “Did I use the word pathetic twice?” More laughter. “If my family was here, it would
     have been many more times.
    “Okay,” Gus continued, “but let’s say you want to please your family, and maybe yourself
     too, by finding a mate. Anyone interested in finding a mate here?”
    A few hands rose up.
    “Oh c’mon. You liars. I happen to know that 67 percent of this company is unmarried.
     So I’m talking to you. The other 33 percent can go to hell.”
    Mae laughed out loud. Gus’s delivery was perfect. She leaned over to Francis. “I love
     this guy.”
    He continued: “Now maybe you tried other dating sites. And let’s say you’re matched
     up, and that’s all good, and you’re headed out for a rendezvous. All good, the family’s
     happy, they briefly entertain the idea that you’re not a worthless use of their shared
     DNA.
    “Now, the second you ask someone out, you’re screwed, right? Actually, you’re not
     screwed. You’re celibate, but you want to change that. So you spend the rest of the
     week stressing over where to take them—food, concert, wax museum? Some kind of dungeon?
     You have no idea. The wrong choice and you’re an idiot. You know that youhave a wide variety of tastes, things you like, and they probably do, too, but that
     first choice is too important. You need help to send the right message—the message
     being that you’re sensitive, intuitive, decisive, you have good taste and you’re perfect.”
    The crowd was laughing; they hadn’t stopped laughing. The screen behind Gus now showed
     a grid of icons, with information listed clearly below each. Mae could make out what
     seemed to be symbols for a restaurant, for movies, music, shopping, outdoor activities,
     beaches.
    “Okay,” Gus continued, “so check this out and remember it’s just a beta version. This
     is called LuvLuv. Okay, maybe that name sucks. Actually, I know it sucks and we’re
     working on it. But this is how it works. When you’ve found someone, and you have their
     name, you made contact, you have a date planned—this is when LuvLuv comes in. Maybe
     you’ve already memorized their dating-site page, their personal page, all their feeds.
     But this LuvLuv gives you an entirely different set of information. So you feed in
     your date’s name. That’s the start. Then LuvLuv scans the web and uses some high-powered
     and very surgical search machinery to ensure that you don’t make an ass out of yourself
     and that you might find love and produce grandchildren for your baba, who thinks you
     might be sterile.”
    “You’re awesome, Gus!” a woman’s voice yelled from the audience.
    “Thank you! Will you go out with me?” he said, and waited for an answer. When the
     woman went quiet, he said, “See, this is why I need help. Now, to test this software,
     I think we require an actual