Chapter 1

I was the only Arabic simultaneous interpreter in the entire company.

From the first round of negotiations to the final signing, I translated eleven high-stakes sessions to secure that nine-figure Middle Eastern contract.

At the celebration banquet, the newly appointed Director of Foreign Relations raised her glass:

"Thanks to the power of AI translation, we have finally shattered the language barrier!"

The room erupted in applause.

After the banquet, she pulled me aside.

"Ethan, the company has decided to fully transition to AI simultaneous interpretation next quarter. You’re being reassigned to document proofreading. Your salary remains the same."

I looked at her. "There are some things machines can't translate for Middle Eastern clients."

She smiled, a cold, patronizing curve of her lips. "Don't make yourself sound so irreplaceable."

The next morning, I handed in my resignation.

Before leaving, I sent a voice note to Mr. Fahad Al-Maktoum, the chief client representative.

I told him that the interpreter for the second phase of the project might change, and asked for his understanding.

Fahad replied shortly after: "If it weren’t for you, we wouldn't have even signed the first phase."

I didn’t forward that message to anyone.

Two months later, the negotiations for the second phase completely collapsed.

The AI had translated a polite Arabic greeting into:

"Our company expresses disappointment in your quote."

"Ethan, you’re in deep trouble."

"Victoria just called an all-hands meeting. She said the phase two negotiations collapsed because you deliberately hid the dialect glossary from the AI department."

"The company is discussing whether to call the police on you."

Zach’s voice message popped up on my phone. I was crouching near the reception desk of the pediatric emergency room, holding my three-year-old daughter, Lily, in my arms.

Her fever had spiked to 104.2°F. Her breathing was heavy and congested.

"Lily Cole’s guardian?" the nurse called out from the window.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Her congenital heart defect is flaring up. She needs urgent surgery within seventy-two hours. “

“Since this specific procedure isn't covered by your insurance, you need to pay a $300,000 deposit at the billing window first."

Three hundred thousand dollars.

I handed Lily over to Mrs. Gable, my kind neighbor who had rushed over to help, and walked to the end of the hallway to call the finance department.

My commission for the first phase of the project was exactly $300,000. It was written in black and white in my contract, due the month of the signing.

I had asked about it before I left, and they said it was "in processing."

I called three times after leaving. The first two times were still "in processing."

The third time, they told me directly that Victoria had ordered a "re-evaluation" of commissions for former employees.

This was my fourth call.

"Hello?"

"It's Ethan. About my commission—"

"Ethan? You still have the nerve to call?" a strange voice answered.

"Victoria said you locked the glossary away on purpose. The company’s losses are way over $300,000. Your commission has been frozen to offset your negligence. Thanks, bye."

Click.

I stared at the call duration on my screen. Eleven seconds. Eleven rounds of grueling negotiations, settled in an eleven-second phone call.

My phone buzzed again. I hadn't been kicked out of the company's WhatsApp group chat yet. They probably forgot I was still in it.

Victoria had posted a long audio message. Someone had transcribed it into text:

"Ethan was always arrogant when he was here. Since we launched the AI system, its accuracy rate has been 96.7%. “

“Yet, out of spite, he hid the core terminology. The failure of phase two is entirely on him. Our legal team is already preparing to sue him."

The chat flooded with replies. Zach was the fastest to suck up:

"I always hated him. He looked so miserable at the celebration banquet, acting like he won that nine-figure deal all by himself."

A nine-figure deal.

During the seventh round of negotiations, we were stuck on a price dispute for two and a half hours.

Fahad’s tone was pushing the limit. He used a Bedouin proverb:

"The camel has reached the crest of the dune and refuses to take another step."

A literal translation would mean "I refuse to negotiate."

But I didn't translate it as "We reject your offer." Nor did I say "We need more time."

I translated it as: "Mr. Fahad says we have walked a long, hard road together. He hopes we can take this final step hand-in-hand."

The tension in the room instantly vanished.

Fahad looked at me and gave a slight nod.

That nod was worth nine figures.

I scrolled down the chat. A new name popped up—Kevin, with the status "AI Operations Director." He had joined three days ago.

"Don't worry, team. I'm already fixing the glossary issue. A quick tweak to the AI model will solve it. “

“People like Ethan just hate technological progress. The sooner we sue him, the better, so he doesn't spread rumors about us."

Team. The AI director called his colleagues "team" while stealing my money.

I shut off my phone and walked back to the ER. Lily was fast asleep in Mrs. Gable’s arms, her chest rising and falling heavily, as if she were trying to lift an invisible boulder with every breath.

I knelt down and squeezed her tiny hand.

I had to get that $300,000 back.

Not for my pride. But because my daughter's life depended on it.

My phone lit up one last time. It was a short text from Fahad's assistant, written in deep, colloquial Arabic that no translation software could ever truly grasp.

It meant: "Mr. Fahad says they do not deserve to speak to you."