In Cathy Wang’s upcoming novel, The Imposter Syndrome, a Russian spy rises through the ranks of the tech industry to become COO at Tangerine (Google riff), while one of her underlings discovers a security vulnerability, offering to play. The book hits shelves on May 25th, but EW will be sharing the first seven chapters exclusively on our website in three parts. Read the first passage below.
Whenever Lev Guskov met someone interesting, he liked to ask his parents questions. If the response is discreet, he will make a note, and if he thinks he will go further, he will ensure that the subject’s family history paperwork is completed. Although Leo does not believe that good parents are needed for productive work. In fact, in his work, bad parents are often the harbingers of success. Early recognition of adversity, overcoming this mountain of disappointment and fear, service, loyalty and the desire to exceed expectations, if only for the approval that was previously rejected.
Where he sits now, in the university auditorium on the banks of the Moskva River, Lev is surrounded by his parents (both good and bad). He was lethargic, allowing aimless complaints to frame Moscow life: the Moscow Ring Road was delayed by two hours, expensive cucumbers in grocery stores, a callous dermatologist at a state clinic who refused to stay up late and undergo physical examinations – his With alcohol on his breath, he said he had to take lunch home. I had to die because his wife couldn’t be a housekeeper. …?
A few years ago, Leo was on stage in a similar room with his mother in the back row holding tulips. A week later, he arrived at a twenty-story concrete skyscraper in central Moscow for his first day on the job. In the lobby there is a brass plaque with the initials: SPb. National Security Service. Head of the three largest Russian special services.
It’s warm outside now, which means that the hall is about to suffocate. Colleague Leo in the eighth inning, Pyotr Stepanov, squirmed to his right. Peter was tall and thin, and in the thin seat he was like a knife, his cut-off arms and coiled legs tucked neatly into space. “How about this?” Peter asked, gesturing deftly, even though Leo already knew who he meant. Blond front, waist length hair.
“Did you think I was just scanning faces?” Peter looked offended. “Look at her color.” Refers to the blue and yellow sash around her shoulders. Leo has it in a box on a high shelf in his closet.
“Oh, what a simple man.” Peter leaned forward. “Then the possibilities expand. Over there, the redhead on the right. Looks better than the blonde, and even under that loose robe you can still tell she has a strong physique.” Leo saw the redhead for the first time the next time I walked in and noticed her for the same reasons Peter did, though he didn’t say so. Last Friday, as he was getting ready to leave work, Peter coaxed him into a “quick stop” at the trendy hotel bar, where Leo drank the cheapest drink, a bottle of Georgian mineral water, and Peter was embarrassedly brash. trawling. Leo returned home after midnight, somehow still drunk, only to find his girlfriend Vera Rustamova in the kitchen. Vera is a correspondent for the state news group Central Media of Russia (RCM). She has a news anchor voice, deep and soft, which she can tune into precise disapproving tones. “No, not her.”
“What, not pretty enough? If you want something more, I don’t know if it’s worth hunting down in the computer science department.”
Peter thought about it. “So you want to be stupid and ugly, don’t you? I don’t know what you’re doing, but next time you’ll take me on your reconnaissance trip.”
Leo didn’t hear the rest. He invites Peter just to be social, sharing an excuse to leave the office – Leo has little to no hiring pressure as he’s done well this year and promoted several assets. One is Bashkir and still in training, while the other two are active siblings: the older brother is an accomplished chef and now works in a London hotel frequented by Saudi royals, and her sister works for a lawyer in St. Louis . Leo woke up this morning with a splitting headache and almost didn’t dare to come.
But now he’s glad he made the effort. Behind the scenes: fourth row from the left. Soft brown hair, pale skin, and small, piercing black eyes give her a ferocious look. How much time has passed? Nine years? ten? And yet he knew her.
They call them research institutes, but in fact they are orphanages, havens for unwanted children. Large low-rise buildings with rusty fittings and faded carpets, heavy boots and wheelchair tracks on the floor, their teenage owners wielding machines like skaters. Most of these establishments are located in major cities and sometimes on the outskirts of major cities. Leo first met Yulia on a trip to one of them.
He was looking for a boy. The eldest, which is difficult because boys are usually adopted at a young age if they are strong. The task is both delicate and important, involving the Canadian ambassador and his wife. They are godly people, especially the wife, who expressed her intention to adopt them before they return to Ottawa permanently: answering God’s call and giving some unwanted souls another chance.
The children were called into the common room by the director of the institute, decrepit nurse Maria, whose age could not be determined. Leo asks Maria to instruct everyone to introduce themselves and repeat a sentence from their favorite book.
By the ninth performance, Leo’s attention began to shift. He maintained his facial expression, maintained eye contact, and focused his full attention as the person he considered most promising stepped forward, a boy with straw hair that had grown to Leo’s chest.
“My name is Pavel,” the boy began. “My favorite book is the man in blue. He has muscles and he can fly.” Pavel closed his eyes as if conjuring up images. “I don’t remember a word.”
Just as Leo was about to leave, he felt the touch and turned to look for the girl. She was short, with thin eyelashes hanging down to sloping cheeks and a more flattened nose, thick and unruly eyebrows gave her a somewhat crazy look. “You can take me there.
“I was looking for something else today,” Leo said, inwardly grimacing as he realized he sounded like a butcher is refusing a piece of meat. “Sorry. Maybe next time”.
“I can be all right,” she said without moving. “I am very, very interested in doing a good job. I won’t say what Paul did. You are right to leave him.”
He was amused by her words. “Pavel is not the only boy” “You clench your fist when you concentrate. You did it in the very beginning when Sophia leaned over for tea. She only wore that sweater when we had guests, you know.”
In an instant, Leo extended his hand behind his back. He slowly let go, feeling ridiculous. He knelt down and whispered, “You said you could do it, but you have no idea what kind of job I’m asking about.”
“What is your name?” He saw Sophia, the famous V-neck woman, hovering nearby, both alert and hopeful; she knew it needed men, but regardless of gender, the institute was compensated for every child adopted by the Eighth Bureau.
A shadow passed over her face. “I’ve been here all my life,” she cleared her throat. “You know, I can sing too.”
“Don’t do it. There’s never a wrong way to practice other languages. It’s actually a very good idea.” He stood up, hesitated, and patted her head. “Maybe see you later.”
She took a small step and deftly refused his touch. “When?” “I dont know. Maybe next year. Or the next one.”
They are now sitting face to face in a room behind the NSA’s mechanical parts store. This is Leo’s unofficial space – no one else in the department likes to use it, because it’s far away, in Mitino. Over the years, he has redesigned the setting: he kept a campaign photo of the current president in case he arrives and he doesn’t, he removed Gorbachev’s rubbish, although by mistake he left only one poster with a cartoon alcoholic drinking silver. Evil against your body and soul is imprinted on the bottom, and Leo occasionally sings, pouring wine for himself and Vera. Gollum.
“Do you remember seeing me?” He moved, and the chair made an unpleasant sound on the floor. “That was a long time ago.”
“Yes,” Julia said, and Leo took the time to study her carefully. Unfortunately, Julia isn’t the kind of normal kid whose facial features grow (although in Leo’s experience, the hardest-working one is never the perfect ten-year-old). She was dressed in a tight-collared red wool dress like a young girl’s, and she carried a paper bag of food from which Leo smelled of hot bread and cheese. Sloykas, he suggested. Stomach growled.
“Is it still like this?” Although he knew the answer, by now – a week after graduation – he had a complete file on her.
“And you know what SPB does.” Watching her carefully, because this is where part of his potential is revealed. Though initially drawn to excitement, hearing something about their real names and initials seemed to prompt them to reconsider. No matter how hard they work for the SPB, they can be further from his eyes and their sins are not recorded.
“Yes. Then what do you want?” Her voice was hard, as if she was busy with a lot of people to meet and finish the interview, although Leo knew better. If Julia had graduated with honors, she might have been able to get a job in a telecommunications company, maybe even a multinational one, but her college diploma confirms that such opportunities are closed.
“Now there is nothing. You need to fill out security paperwork, undergo introductory training. Then, I think the first priority will be voice training.”
Throughout his career, Leo has worked with dozens of men and women who mistakenly equated obnoxious behavior with power. Now he knew that it was best to dispel that belief at once. “The way you talk is unbearable.”
Julia winced. There was silence, and she stared at the floor. “If you think my spoken language is bad, then why are you looking for me?” she finally asked, blushing. “Because it’s not about my appearance.”
“I think you’re a persistent woman,” Leo said, deliberately using the word “woman.” “That, plus creativity, that’s what I need.”
“What I do for my job is create a package. A humanized package for a specific purpose. I need you to be convincing without doubt; the problem is not in your voice, but in the way you speak. No elegance. being at the institute for so long because when we first met, it wasn’t all that bad.”
“I sang that song,” she said, and Leo realized that she needed to remember almost every detail of their first interaction. Perhaps she had cherished the hope for years that he would reappear. “in English.”
“Yes, and your language skills are quite good. With a coach to improve your pronunciation, you are almost fluent. You will never completely get rid of your accent, but you will be amazed at what you can achieve with intense training. .”
He waited for Julia to ask why English was so important, but she restrained herself. “Then tell me that I will be a vocal coach and I will learn English well. What then?
“Maybe we do performance training. There are no guarantees. At each stage, your performance is assessed.”
He shook his head. “If you are ready, you will start the next phase. Serve our country, secretly, abroad…”
“Okay, where?” there was zeal in her curiosity. She’s just a child, Leo thought. Rude, but still a child.
“We can identify cities later. We have people at Berkeley and Stanford. To get a visa, you need to enroll in graduate programs.”
“What, don’t you think the internet is fun?” “I’m not the kind of person who stares at a computer all day.”
“Well, maybe you can add a hobby. A new boom is coming. I want you to start a technology company. A real Silicon Valley company with local headquarters.”
“Yes. A viable enough player to attract good investors. Investors will be key, especially in the beginning. From them you will receive proposals from other entrepreneurs, partners – a local ecosystem, so to speak. Part of the system. We call it a bridge.” Outside came the horns and clanging of construction sites. Maybe the metro, Leo thought, was always promised to be built. He waited for Julia’s response, which he thought was positive. He remembers the first time he breathed in the air outside of San Francisco, the sweetness of his lungs – he quickly got used to it, and then took it for granted until he got back on the plane. But Julia gave no quick smile or other sign of enthusiasm, just tugged at her collar. She fiddled with the cotton wool with her hands, her eyes wide open and fixed on the table. “You saw my grades,” she said.
“Hmm,” she breathed. “Then you already know that I have no talent. For a while, I thought that even if I didn’t like my class, I could study hard, but that wasn’t enough.”
Leo was surprised: he did not expect her to admit her inadequacy. But that just means he’s more right about her suitability as an asset. Yes, it’s good to have a computer genius, but such a person doesn’t necessarily want to work—in any case, above-average people in the US are close to being geniuses.
“I don’t need an expert. Just some technical skills. Hardworking, you just told me what you are.”
“No. You will do all this. Build a company and lead it” “But I already told you, I can’t handle the technical part” “Don’t worry about it” He looked at his watch. Metal
Post time: Sep-15-2022