Starbourne, page 21
She wore a spotless navy-blue blazer, embroidered with bronze trim along the seams and cuffs. The shoulders of her blazer were adorned with stylized blue epaulets, which emanated a faint cold glow. A statement of her position within the company. Underneath her blazer, she wore a stylized white dress shirt, which was also embroidered with bronze trim. Sleek black pants finished off the professional attire. Through and through, she looked every bit the part of a corporate executive one might expect.
“I grow tired of waiting, Alton,” The executive said, her tone icy.
“Yes, Madam Vice President,” her associate, Alton Gale, replied.
She turned back to face the window and slid a hand up underneath her glasses, using her fingers to massage her temples. “Remind me to include ‘ability to meet deadlines’ to my quarterly reviews going forward.”
Alton simply nodded at the request. Where she held herself gracefully and comfortably, he stood rigid and unflinching with his hands firmly behind him. He too wore a navy-blue suit, embroidered with bronze trim. However, where his counterpart’s attire was more fashionable and business oriented, his clothing was more militaristic. His jacket was more akin to a navy officer’s coat. Armored bronze pauldrons sat on each shoulder. Beneath his coat and attached to his belt, hung a sheathed curved katana.
The man appeared to be at least a decade senior to his associate. His chestnut hair was trimmed neatly at the sides and left longer at the top, which was combed back tightly. He had an angular face with sharp defining features. Powerful dark brown eyes gazed down past a long, pointed nose. A short, trimmed beard and moustache framed his mouth cleanly. He maintained a furrowed brow and tightly clenched jaw.
A door on the far side of the room slid open with a woosh, and several people entered. Two security officers escorted a group of three scientists into the boardroom. At a predetermined spot, both officers stopped and took a step to the side, allowing the rest of the group to continue.
The remaining three employees maintained their stride unabated as they approached the executive’s table. Each of the approaching employees wore white lab coats over business attire, their ID badges hanging from a pocket on their jackets.
Neither the corporate executive nor her associate turned to acknowledge the newcomers as they approached. The scientists closed the distance, until they stood in front of the chairs closest to the head seat of the left side of the conference table. They quietly squabbled amongst themselves and organized their belongings as they prepared for the imminent meeting.
Growing impatient, the Vice President turned and regarded the three standing before her. With her attention firmly on them, the employees quieted their banter and stood alert.
In the center was Director Keaty, the head of research and development for this facility.
To the director’s right side was Dr. Elena Navarra, head of AI application engineering.
And finally, to the director’s left, was Dr. Elliot Palmer, head of data annotation and innovation.
Those that stood in front of the Vice President represented the management team of the Iridium Project. A highly advanced project funded by RusaCorp. A special project which was severely over budget and behind schedule.
“Good morning, Ms. —” started Director Keaty, his black mustache twitching slightly as he spoke.
“You’re late,” the executive said, cutting off the scientist bitterly. “This meeting was scheduled to start nearly twenty minutes ago. You can imagine how many appointments I manage daily.”
“Yes, of course!” the director blurted, bowing his head in submission.
“We apologize, ma’am. We acted as quickly as we could; we only just received word of your arrival,” Dr. Navarra offered.
“That is irrelevant,” Alton Gale interjected. “Each department at this facility understands the importance of impromptu progress reports.”
The moustachioed Director Keaty looked towards Alton, then at Dr. Navarra, and back to the former. “Apologies! I think what Dr. Navarra is looking to say is that we had a tremendous amount of data to present.”
“Positive data, with exceptional results!” the young and eager Dr. Palmer said confidently.
The Vice President’s forehead creased as she turned her attention the outspoken scientist. “That remains to be seen.”
The young man initially stood confidently under her scrutinising glare, but soon relented and bowed his head. The Vice President then turned her attention back to the senior scientist.
“Present your digital report, Director Keaty.” She said, extending her hand in the scientist’s direction.
“Right away, ma’am!” Director Keaty said. He turned to his associate, Dr. Palmer and waved a hand. The younger scientist handed a tablet device to the Director, who in turn handed it to the Vice President. The Director and his two colleagues stood silently, awaiting the executive’s next request.
The Vice President quietly studied the data on the tablet. “Continue,” she said coldly, eyes still fixated on the tablet in her hands.
“Should we take a seat?” Director Keaty asked, his voice cracking with a hint of anxiety.
“We’re running behind schedule as it is. No need for formalities. Now, please continue.”
“Well, as you know, this special project has been a difficult undertaking. We are still well within our updated budgetary targets and are meeting with acceptable progress,” the Director began.
“Acceptable by your standards, Director,” the Vice President commented while opening another report on the tablet. “This project was scheduled to be entering its final phase by now.”
“Yes, well. The original timeline for this project was quite… ambitious. An assignment of this size, with this level of intricacy… But I am confident if given another extension we could see leaps and bounds accomplished!”
“Need I remind you of the plethora of other special projects we have lined up?” the Vice President interjected. “Each day this project is delayed, it directly affects our timelines on the others at this facility.”
“I understand, ma’am. It’s been a difficult undertaking. The Technology we have access to… Our limited understanding of what we’re trying to accomplish…”
“Every project we work on is state-of-the-art, Director. If it wasn’t, RusaCorp wouldn’t be at the forefront of weapons research and development,” the vice president retorted.
“Of course, ma’am,” the Director stammered. “Forgive me. We will double our efforts.”
“What stage are we in for physical development?” the Vice President asked.
There were dozens of situation reports, research analysis, cause and effect updates pertaining to the project presented on the tablet. She was losing interest in reading the data and needed answers promptly. She began swiping through the files, skim reading for anything that jumped out.
“We’ve run alpha through delta, with the latter showing the strongest results,” Director Keaty said, a level of satisfaction in his tone. “Delta is proving to be a comprehensive model at this stage.”
“Very good,” the Vice President said, nodding her head, “And what about the software?
“Well, to be entirely honest, ma’am; we’ve really just scratched the surface of what’s capable there,” Director Keaty said nervously.
“Other stages of this program have had previous works to build from,” Dr. Navarra contributed. “For this stage of the project, we’ve had to create something never yet attempted,” the doctor said as she rung her hands together anxiously. “It’s been... challenging.”
“Yes, I understand the complexities of your task,” the Vice President stated flatly before glancing up at Dr. Navarra. “That is why your team was hand selected and heavily vetted based on their skills and experiences. You would not have been chosen for this project if we didn’t think you were all capable.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am,” Dr. Navarra said, bowing her head.
“Have there been any successful crossovers?” the Vice President asked, looking to the director for an answer.
“We attempted a connection with Charlie, Delta’s predecessor. The results were… not as intended but incredibly informative,” Dr. Navarra said.
The Vice President noted the cautious nature of the comment and careful selection of words.
“She’s being modest. They both are,” Dr. Palmer said. “We’ve made great strides into a field that nobody else has had the understanding or creativity to attempt.”
The Vice President once more turned her attention to Dr. Palmer. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know you. Doctor?” She had asked the question sarcastically, knowing exactly who he was. The question was meant to prove a point regarding his status.
“Dr. Elliot Palmer; head of data annotation and innovation,” the confident man said with a sly smile.
“Dr. Palmer. That is the second time you’ve spoken out of turn, and with a tone far too familiar to your superior. Remember yourself.”
The young scientist lowered his head submissively and backed away slowly. “I apologize, ma’am.”
The Vice President closed her eyes and held the tablet close to her chest. She took a moment to herself to consider her next course of action.
She gently tapped the data tablet against her chest as she pondered her options. An idea formed, vague at first but slowly she was able to build upon it. Given the circumstances, it may just work, she told herself.
She opened her eyes and tightened her mouth as she studied the assembled staff. Each of the scientists squirmed under her gaze, feeling a great deal of uncertainty. The confident Vice President finally looked over to her militaristic associate and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask a question through telepathy. He returned a glower and slightly shook his head from side to side.
“If this project was to go live today, as-is, what are your estimations of success?” the Vice President finally asked.
The three scientists looked at one another, with Dr. Navarra whispering something indistinguishable to Director Keaty. Dr. Palmer leaned in and whispered something of his own to the Director as well. The black moustache on the Director twitched as he considered his response carefully.
Clearing his voice, Director Keaty looked to respond to the executive. “At present, we would not recommend the project in its current state.”
“Obviously it is not recommended; it is not yet complete. What I’m asking is, what are your estimations of success?” the Vice President snapped. “If this project was forced to go live today, would it be operational?”
“Operational, yes,” Dr. Navarra responded. “We should clarify that the delays in our progress are not in technological failures but rather desired outcomes.”
“Elaborate,” the Vice President said, regarding the team sternly.
“The Charlie variant, as earlier mentioned…” started Director Keaty. “By technical terms was a success. However, it quickly became volatile and impossible to control.”
“What happened to the Charlie variant?” Alton Gale asked. The inquiry surprised the Vice President. She looked at her counterpart with peaked interest. It was unlike Alton to chime into her discussions so pointedly, and without her authorization. Admittedly, the question he has asked was the very same that she would have inquired.
“It was terminated. Although, a great deal of effort was made to do so.” Upon hearing the answer, Alton gave no response of his own.
“And you learned a lot from that model?” the Vice President asked, her attention now back to the director.
“Yes, a great deal. All of which has been put towards Delta.”
“The complications with Charlie; I trust they’re in these reports you’ve provided?” the Vice President asked while combing through the files on the data tablet.
“Yes, in their entirety,” Director Keaty said, his head nodding enthusiastically.
“Alright, I’ve heard enough, thank you,” the Vice President said, exiting out of the data report. “Have the Delta prototypes removed from fabrication and containment and have them ready to ship to an off-world facility. Include all hardware devices attached to this program, with their memory banks intact. Destroy any other modules and prototypes at all levels.”
All three scientists were shocked. Director Keaty stared at the Vice President, mouth gapping at a loss for words. Dr. Navarra dropped her head. The young Dr. Palmer stepped forward with his hands extended. “Where are you sending—”
“Dr. Palmer, do you consider yourself a valuable employee, integral to the future development of this company?” the executive snapped.
The scientist took a step back, looking at his director. “Yes, ma’am. I do,” he stammered.
“I do not. This is your final warning, verbal or otherwise. I don’t want to hear another word from you for the duration of this meeting. Nod if you understand.”
Dr. Palmer nodded furiously, cheeks flush with embarrassment. The two other scientists shot the young man disapproving looks, with Dr. Navarra shaking her head at him.
“Madam Vice President, if we could just discuss this further,” Director Keaty started. “If I could just make the case of continuing this project with the board, I’m sure—”
“Effective immediately, this project is suspended. My associate here, Alton Gale, will directly oversee the transfer. You are each to report your progress to him.”
Alton stepped forward and regarded each of the scientists one at a time. Lifting his wrist jockey, he entered a few commands and then looked back at the scientists. “A detailed itinerary of sequences has just been sent to your departments. You are each to review this checklist and confirm back estimated times for completion. I expect these timelines within the hour. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mr. Gale,” Director Keaty agreed. His colleagues quickly nodded their understanding simultaneously. Alton looked to the blonde executive and nodded his approval.
“Very well. You have your new assignments. You are all dismissed.”
The three scientists each took a deep low bow before turning and making their way to leave the room. The two security officers stood at attention until each of the three employees walked past them. In unison, the officers turned to flank the scientists and escorted them from the room. As the group approached the exit, the doors quietly slid open for them. Once the five of them had left the room, the doors slid back shut, this time clicking and locking firmly.
Satisfied they were alone, the Vice President picked up the data tablet and skimmed through the files once more. A knowing smile crept across her face as she continued to read the excerpts from the report. She turned and faced the enormous viewing window and glanced down at the massive research facility below. “Once the project has been relocated, see to it that this facility is properly cleaned.”
“How thoroughly?” Alton inquired as he approached the executive, taking his place beside her and looking down at the facility.
“Equipment and personnel. I want a complete wipedown with no traces.”
“Understood. If I may,” Alton said, glancing towards the executive. “Should we not expect interference from the board of directors or the President?”
“You just worry about the logistics and clean up. Leave the board of directors and my father to me,” the Vice President said with a coy smile.
“Of course, Ms. Rusakova,” Alton said.
“Here's the break, and the roll... huge interception by Vigorson at the goal line, and that's in! With that goal, the Vespas Pirates defeat the Eko Mavericks in this series. This will be the first time in forty-seven years that the Vespas Pirates make it to the finals, where they will face off against the Callisto Rooks!”
(VSPN the Vespas Pirates victory in 2765)
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
It was the morning after their museum heist and Jaeden sat in an empty booth at The Wishing Well, hunched over the tabletop. His head was resting in the crook of one of his arms, while the other hand played with a bottle cap that had been left on the table. He flipped the bottlecap so that the ridged side was facing upwards and pressed his fingertips against the rippled edges.
The sensation was uncomfortable and caused a slight pain, but Jaeden continued pressing his finger into the bottle cap. The dull ache ebbed through his finger, as he rocked it back and forth on the sharp edge.
A sharp pain shot through his finger, as he pressed on a particularly sensitive area of his finger. He pulled his hand away from the bottle cap and brought his finger close to his eyes to inspect the dent left on his index fingertip.
With a disinterested sigh, he lowered his hand back to the bottle cap and pressed his middle finger into the metallic object. Applying pressure to the cap at an angle, it flipped up and shot off the table. The cap sailed through the quiet room and clattered onto the floor beside the bar stools.
He looked up as the sound of the cap scattering across the floor rang out. It had landed near Teagen, who was sitting on a bar stool at the bar.
“Sorry about that.” He called out, raising his head from the crook of his arm.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Teagen responded cooly.
Jaeden turned his attention to Teagen sitting at the bar. She was resting her elbow on the bar and planted her chin in the palm of her hand. Her brows were knit together, and he could see she was deep in thought.
They both had been waiting in The Wishing Well for Hoss to arrive. Today was the day they were going to talk to him about his trigger-happy behavior. Nellie hadn’t yet arrived for the day, and Jaeden hoped that he and Teagen could speak with Hoss before she came in.
Last night Hoss had apologized for his actions, but both Teagen and Jaeden agreed they needed to talk about it more. They didn’t have a chance to explain their concerns and wanted to make sure they were all on the same page going forward.
Jaeden heard high-pitched whistling from the backroom. Jaeden looked up at Teagen and she looked back at him in turn as Hoss strolled confidently into the room.
“Greetings and salutations my little pack of artistic thieves,” Hoss exclaimed. He stopped and turned his head to the side as if considering a thought. “Wait, scratch that. ‘Artistic Thieves’ make us sound like plagiarists. We’re more like ‘Art Burglars’.”
