Authors: Eric Barnes
The night before, I'd found Whitley alone in my office. And for a long time we'd only sat quietly on the windowsill.
But I hadn't found Perry. Not for weeks. It seemed that he was never in his office. There were rumors he'd gone to Budapest as part of Leonard's investigation. Rumors he'd gone to India to join Frederick Fadowsky in retirement. Rumors he'd killed himself in some forgotten room of our basement. Rumors he'd gone to Russia to live with my father. Rumors he'd hacked into the accounting system and run off with millions of dollars. None of the stories were true, not least because he was well-known to be continually managing his group by phone, e-mail and a periodic live appearance.
Actually, it seemed that mostly he was simply avoiding me.
At night I was making changes to the shadow network without fully understanding every ramification. With the finances of the company
under such stress, all I wanted was to save us another day or hour. Which meant I was taking chances. I moved money faster, opened new companies quicker, took fewer precautions as I repointed satellites, as I redirected contract programmers, as I shifted mainframes from one shell company to another.
And I stood now in R&D, near Perry's dark office. Having walked for half an hour. Standing here now, seeing so much abandoned promise in every direction, on every floor.
Standing here now, seeing so much failure.
Seeing so much arrogance.
I needed to tell Trevor about Regence's offer.
How could I feel like I had failed Trevor?
And still, after walking through the office, still when I got back to my desk, the sale documents were waiting. That hadn't changed.
Turning, slowly and slower and turning, in place, with the motion below me, around me. Whitley, like always, but not. The image I'd had for three years, but not. Talking now, but not. Intermittent words forming sentences between motions.
“The stock,” she said, so close to me, finding quiet breaths between each word. “It stopped its fall.”
And my words too, there between each breath, matched somehow against each motion inside me. “Only for a week,” I said. “Only a week.”
Turning.
“There are no more games,” I said, finding a way to talk, keep talking, keep making words between the motions and breath.
“I know,” she said, her breath catching, eyes blinking and again, hands across my neck before she could open them again.
Tomorrow I had to respond to Regence.
Tomorrow I had to say yes.
Tomorrow the board and Wall Street and the markets, all would be so proud of this decision.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes,” I said.
“Why,” she asked, words coming to her again, lips somehow full and dry as they mouthed at the words, “why did you meet with those people from Regence?”
And again I tried to shake my head. Saying only, “Can't say.”
“Why did Leonard's thread,” she said, blinking her way from one word to the next, tongue moving left as she found each sound, “the Budapest thread, why did it disappear a few hours after he told you about it?”
“I don't know.”
“In three years,” she said, whispering now, losing all force behind her speaking, moving just faster in the motion between us, “I've never doubted a single thing you've said.”
Faster with the motion.
“But, Robbie,” she said, eyes only barely open, staring, “this time I don't believe you.”
Her lip caught below the edge of her teeth.
“The reports,” she said, staring, staring through eyes that blinked with each motion, “SWAT. There's something happening. Something's been happening.”
Faster with the motion.
“I think,” she started, “I think Leonard is right. Some rogue section. Some rogue section gone wild within this company.”
Motion, all motion.
“Nothing adds up. The computers are wrong. The satellites transfer information at incorrect speeds.”
And the turning, turning more, it was as if we'd been turning, slowly, still turning. And I heard myself say, “Shimmer.” Heard myself say, “How much is left for Shimmer to see?”
“I think it's seen everything,” she said. “I think now it's only trying to understand.”
Trying to nod. Trying to say words.
“Tell me,” she said.
“What?”
“Tell me,” she said.
Trying to nod.
“Tell me what Shimmer will see,” she said.
“I don't know,” I said.
“Tell me,” she said.
“I don't know.”
“Someday,” she said, “please someday tell me.”
Once more, I went to find Perry.
It was morning, and I had to respond to Regence. To the offer Tor had made. There would be due diligence later, board approval, meetings with executives and shareholders and investors. All that would come later. For now, Tor just wanted me to say the words.
It's yours.
I wanted Perry with me for the call. I needed to tell someone what was about to happen. And I needed the comfort Perry gave me. Perry had been here from the beginning.
He wasn't in his office. I looked around a moment, seeing the now suspended construction of the antechamber to his office.
As I had so many times in recent weeks, I asked a few people from his department if they knew where he was. None had seen him in a few days.
I was making my way toward the DMZ when I got an e-mail on my phone.
I'm in your office.
“How did you know I was looking for you?” I asked Perry when I got back to my office. He was sitting at my desk, typing rapidly at my computer. I was too tired to tell him to stop.
He didn't look at me when he responded. Only his fingers were allowed any motion at all. “Spies,” he said flatly. “I'm having you watched.”
I didn't know whether or not to believe him. And I knew that really
all I wanted was to pursue that question with him. To talk in circles with Perry.
I sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, Perry still typing. He was hard to see, his face so dark against the bright light from the window. And I realized this was how most people saw me when they came to me in my office. Features lost to the light, eyes unseeable, the windows framing me in their mind.
I said to him, “Regence has offered to buy this company.”
He didn't look up from the machine. “I know,” he said.
I shook my head slowly. “How?”
“An unprecedented exchange of favors.”
“But no one here knew,” I said.
He shook his head. “I didn't find out from anyone here,” he said. “I found out from Regence.”
It took me a moment to understand. “SWAT,” I said.
“Whitley doesn't know,” he said, nodding. “But I managed to find out through SWAT.”
The chair I sat in was terribly uncomfortable. I'd had it for three years. I shifted in place. “I have to call Regence now,” I said. I glanced out the window. I wanted to touch the glass, very lightly, with my fingers. “I'd like you to be on the phone with me.”
For a moment, he seemed to finish what he was typing. He sat back in my chair, turning toward me. He nodded. “I'd like that too.”
As I called Finland, I glanced at a daily financial report from Cliff's group. The stock was still stable. There was no clear reason why this had happened. It was being caused by something more than the layoffs and cuts. There were buyers of the stock. A few people or companies intent on purchasing large quantities of Core stock right now, even when it looked like the price would soon fall so much farther.
“Is this you?” I asked Perry absently, nodding toward the financial report.
“The stock?” he asked. “Not me. I already sold what little stock I had. Unloaded it before it was worth even less.”
All I could do was shake my head. And smile. I couldn't help but smile.
Tor's entire entourage seemed to answer the phone. They sounded as if they were crowded into a very small office in their Helsinki headquarters, all of them rapidly and loudly firing off a range of opinions and suggestions, each a voice surrounding Chairman Tor as he led Regence through another day.
It was Tor's voice that broke through the noise.
“And what do you have for me today, Robbie?” he asked.
“I think you know,” I said.
Across from me, still in my chair, Perry was once more typing rapidly at my computer. As he did, I could see that he was accessing systems with the highest security levelsâservers and networking in the heart of the DMZ.
“Actually, I don't know, Robbie,” Tor said, his voice echoing out from the phone. “Tell me. Tell me what you have.”
I knew I'd have to say it. Knew he wanted to hear the words.
It's yours. I give in. Take it. Take it all.
And then Shimmer launched itself on the second monitor on my desk. And I saw it immediately. Saw it in the dense circles, the isolated structures, the lines turning back on themselves.
It was the shadow network.
Perry was staring at me. Smiling only slightly. But smiling.
It wasn't my shadow network.
It was someone else's.
And in a moment, I said it. Staring at Perry. “They're lying.”
Perry nodded. He reached down slowly and scratched his foot. Bare.
“They've built it on a lie,” I said.
And he nodded again.
Perry had managed to connect Shimmer to Regence's systems.
Tor was on the phone. Talking. “Tell me,” he was still saying.
“It doesn't work,” I said into the phone.
In a moment, Tor asked, “What doesn't work?”
“Your system,” I said again. “Your boxes. They don't work.”
Perry was absently tracing Shimmer's dark lines with a finger. He tapped on the screen. He slowly turned back to me. Smile.
“You move the work,” I said. “Your boxes don't do the work. They just shift the work to some other place. Other servers.”
The entourage in Finland had gone quiet.
“I don't,” Tor started, then went silent.
“Server farms,” I said into the phone.
“I'm not sure,” Tor started, then went quiet again.
“Another network,” I said.
“What does,” Tor said slowly, then stopped.
“You haven't drawn blood from a mainframe,” I said. “You've just created a very intricate, carefully crafted lie.”
The phone was still silent. Finally Tor said, “I expect your answer tomorrow.”
He hung up.
It was a minute before Perry spoke. “Spies,” he said quietly. “A few passwords. Favors I'll spend my whole life fulfilling.”
“And so we'll be okay,” I started to say. “They'll fail and we'll make it,” I heard myself say.
So much lying. All I seemed to do was lie.
Perry spoke quietly then, nodding. One word. Sitting in my chair. Shimmer still painting Regence's shadow network across my screen. It was a long, quiet moment, Perry's voice hanging above it. Perry saying only, “Except.”
I stared at him. Trying to find a look of confusion. Searching for the right words to say back to him.
“Except,” he said again.
I started to stand, hand on the desk to push myself up. Then stopped. Because I couldn't. Could only sit back in this most uncomfortable chair. Leaning back now. Farther. Feeling my head fall slowly back. My eyes moving from my desk to Perry to the windows and the sky.
“Except,” I said. “Except that I still have no choice. Except that still my only option is to sell.”
And I didn't have to see it. Simply knew it was true. Knew Perry was nodding, very slowly, slightly.
It was just so sad.
We still had to sell. And Perry knew exactly why.
“Which did you look at first?” I asked. “Regence? Or Core?”
It was a moment before he answered. “Regence.”
“And seeing what Regence was doing,” I said slowly, pausing, voice fading, and all I wanted was to sleep. “Seeing it there.”
“It made me realize.”
“There's more,” I said. “More than you could have seen. Even with Shimmer.”
“I can imagine,” he said.
In a moment, I said quietly, “I don't know what to do.”
“When will everything collapse?” he asked.
I started to say it, words I'd lived with for all these horrible weeks but hadn't spoken aloud. I started to speak again. Lowering my head. Looking at him as I spoke. “Two months. Less if the stock starts falling again.”
He blinked. Still staring.
“All we can do is sell,” I said. “Even though Regence is just living the same lie. Selling will buy us a few months. Then it will collapse. Under their watch. Not Whitley's, not Julie's, not Cliff's or Leonard's.”
He nodded.
“I don't,” I started to say, but stopped. When I did speak, it was quiet and empty and the words seemed to come from someone else. “I'm not sure how to explain.”
In a moment, he nodded.
And the words were not mine, so distant and quiet and if only I could sleep. “I'm so sorry,” I heard myself say.
“I know,” Perry said.
“I thought,” I heard, then it was gone, then back, “I thought I'd find a way to make it work.”
“I know,” Perry said.
“I always thought I'd find a way,” I said, and my eyes were closed.
“I know,” I heard Perry say. “I know.”
I stood in my office, midnight and staring at the window, and I realized for the first time that I was nearing a different kind of an end. My end. All along I'd known there was an end to the company. But now I was faced with an end for me. Finally I would break. Finally I would give in to my exhaustion and my fears and my sadness and my regrets. Finally I would just give up.
I looked at my desk.
The papers in tall piles.
I had signed the Regence documents. They were ready to be sent.