20
Southern New Mexico
USA
CRAIG BAILER GLIDED ALONG the empty rural highway, keeping the rented car’s speed steady. Inasmuch as dashboard-mounted GPS units had made maps seem obsolete, the Merge was an even more fundamental leap forward. Even with the limitations of the bare-bones apps included with the first-generation model, the act of driving felt transformed. The road ahead glowed yellow, a color he’d initially opposed because of the obvious Wizard of Oz parallel. He’d been overruled by Javier de Galdiano’s tech team, though, due to some technical minutiae about how the brain processed color. And once again, de Galdiano had been right.
More important than the interface, though, was the fact that the images transmitted to his mind were being constantly analyzed and monitored—for children and animals at the edges of the road, for unusual actions or the blind spots of surrounding drivers, as well as constant comparisons to actual and posted speeds. Finally, the sleep function, which worked both ways, subtly manipulated his brain patterns to keep him alert.
It was just a taste of what was to come, though. By next year, Mercedes and a number of other car manufacturers would include compatible cameras with various visual enhancements, as well as links to cruise control, braking, and steering during emergency situations.
That is, if Christian Dresner didn’t destroy the company first.
“Call David Tresco,” he said aloud in the empty car. Unfortunately, it was still too lengthy a command for the Merge to deal with mentally.
“Cell, home, or office?” came the response in his head.
“Cell.”
There were no visual cues at all—most apps and icons were deactivated when the user was behind the wheel—but he could hear the quiet sound of dialing followed by ringing at the other end.
“Where are you?” Tresco said, not bothering to hide his irritation at what he had called “all this clandestine bullshit.” It was a judgment that he would be revising very soon.
The yellow path ahead broke right into a solitary gas station.
“I’m about to pull in.”
Bailer eased up to the man’s SUV, stopping only long enough for him to jump in before accelerating again.
“Okay. I’m here. What’s the hell is all this about?”
Tresco was a former oil industry CEO and now was one of Dresner Industries’ most influential board members. He was not, however, an easy man to deal with.
“We have some problems that I want to talk to you about.”
“I just read through your reports about the rollout. It sounds like we’re exceeding projections in every category. And the press has been more positive than any one of us could have hoped—even about the implants. What problems could possibly be important enough to drag me to a gas station in the middle of nowhere on Saturday? My goddamn grandkids are in town.”
“The development of the Merge was a lot more expensive and difficult than you’re aware of,” Bailer said simply.
He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but the fact that there was no immediate response suggested that his statement had been enough to put grandchildren out of Tresco’s mind. He was not a man accustomed to not having all the facts.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying to me, Craig.”
“We incurred expenses and debt that’ve been moved to subsidiaries and partnerships all over the globe.”
Tresco didn’t respond immediately. When he did, he spoke cautiously. “How much debt?”
“Enough to bankrupt the company even if we sell double our projected volume. If we’re clever, we might be able to meet our obligations next month. But the month after that, there’s no way in hell.”
“Why did you keep this from me?” Tresco said, caution turning to fear. “I didn’t know anything about it.”
“I doubt anyone will believe that.”
“Was that a threat, Craig? Are you threatening me?”
Of course, that was exactly what he was doing. But there was no reason to be explicit about it. Tresco was an extremely wealthy man with a carefully crafted and impeccable reputation. He would do whatever was necessary to protect the status he’d spent a lifetime building.
Bailer handed him a tablet and turned onto an even more desolate road that led into the rugged Organ Mountains. Crosswinds buffeted the car, but couldn’t be blamed for Tresco’s increasingly pale complexion as he scrolled through the graphs and charts.
“How…How did this happen? How could you let this happen?”
“I was aware of some of it, but I only recognized the extent about a year ago.”
“But Christian—”
“Christian can’t be trusted anymore. There was a time when he’d listen to financial realities, but as he’s gotten older he’s become more and more isolated. He lives in his own world now. A world he believes he can save. And it’s causing him to make stupid decisions like focusing on a search system that makes judgments about people, and software that’s specific to the financial industry and politicians. It’s also caused him to limit our military sales to only a small percentage of soldiers worldwide.”
Tresco shut down the tablet and stared out at the dead, rocky hills speeding by. His hand shook visibly as he wiped the sweat from around his mouth.
“We need to move Dresner out, David.”
Tresco let out a bitter laugh. “Do you have any idea what that’ll do to our stock price?”
“We’ll do it quietly. Keep him in place as a figurehead.”
“I’m finding it very hard to believe he’s going to just give up his position at a company he spent his life building. And how does that help our cash flow? No. We’re going to have to look for a partner.”
“We can’t sell off a significant interest in the company, David.”
“Why not?”
“There are things that would come to light…” His voice faded for a moment. “Things that need to stay in the dark.”
“The offshore debt?”
“It’s not the financial issues, David.”
“What then?”
Bailer took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Even in the confines of the car, it was hard to say these things out loud.
“The human mind is a very complicated piece of engineering. Maybe the most complicated thing we know of. It’s difficult to find an adequate substitute for it. When the research started, we used chimps—”
“So what?”
“So, there’s only so much you can learn from experimenting on the mind of a monkey. Eventually, we had to move to human subjects.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Some of the tests—particularly the early ones—weren’t entirely successful.”
Again, Tresco seemed to be struggling to process what he was hearing. “Are you telling me that some of the volunteers were harmed?”
Bailer shook his head, accelerating around a tight curve and looking down the steep slope leading to the valley below. “What I’m telling you is that they weren’t volunteers, David. And they were more than harmed.”