“Bonne nuit,” Cecile said and rolled over with her back to Flora, unwilling to elaborate.
Flora should have been able to ignore an off-hand comment from a Spoke prisoner, but it floated on her conscience for some time. Cecile seemed to know things—things others didn’t. She’d warned her about the phone, and she’d been right.
But Flora was exhausted, and she refused to let this casual remark spoil her rare moment of happiness. The comment seemed to fall away beneath the hypnotizing sound of the rain on the tent surface. Eventually, the words seemed to disappear from her conscious mind altogether and were relegated to the distant confines of the realm of dreams.
SAND CASTLES
Axel was standing with his bare feet on the wet sand, the pungent smell of decaying kelp tickling at his nostrils. The terrain in front of him featured a labyrinth of ravines dug into the beach. A sand castle sprung out from the innermost circle of the maze. It was half the size of a man, with a number of archways, turrets, spires and courtyards made out of sand, driftwood and seashells.
Shooting off tangentially from the labyrinth were channels that spelled out KELEMEN in block letters, and yet another series that spelled out half of RAWLINGS. His daughter Erin and Tina Rawlings were still carving out the remaining letters.
He made sure to take a picture of it with his phone. When he looked at the image he felt a touch of pride mixed with envy. He couldn’t remember being creative enough to do things like this as a child. The kids must get it from their mother’s side.
Axel was standing near the outlet of the labyrinth, which was a small canal that led down to the waves crashing in. He carefully pushed sand up into a meager sea wall in front of the intake channel, if only to give it a modest defense before the waves inevitably overcame it.
“We’re saved,” Zach said with a deadpan look. Some might call Zach snarky, but Axel got a kick out of his sarcasm.
“Hey, every lit bit helps,” Axel said.
“Dad, the whole point of this is so the water can come in,” Zach said, shaking his head.
Axel put his hands up in mock protest. “I know, but once the water gets in, the whole thing will collapse.”
Zach just stared at him with a sour face.
“Okay, let’s see what happens.” Axel flattened the seawall he’d just begun building.
Gray wisps of smoky clouds were layering into the darkening orange horizon. The sandcastle’s shadow was extending longer and longer, puncturing the waves as the miniature crests rolled in and collapsed. Soon the temperature would drop.
A few feet away Finnegan Rawlings was sprawled on a beach chair, nursing a beer and proudly displaying his farmer’s tan despite the autumn air. He would occasionally receive and throw back a miniature football with his son, whose latest trick was to try to catch it from behind and through his legs.
Finn was stalky and rounded, not even close to Axel in terms of fitness. Yet you could tell there were the vestiges of strength in his limbs from his younger years in the service.
Most op vets were cautious people, some even paranoid. Knowing the panoply of things that could kill you at any time tended to temper your enthusiasm for risky activities. But Finn wasn’t your typical op veteran. He seemed to be able to divorce himself from this tension completely. He had a knowing smile and an indulgent handshake. He laughed and goofed around with his kids, burying them in the sand and throwing them in the water. He was definitely a likeable guy.
Axel hoped that meant he wouldn’t be as tight-lipped as most vets.
When the labyrinth of ravines was finished filling with water, Axel made his way to Finn.
“Finn—can we take a walk?”
Finn almost jumped out of his beach chair. “Sure thing,” he said.
They left it to the kids to bear witness to the gradual destruction of their beach civilization. Axel and Finn walked casually northward along the beach.
“I feel a Nadar lecture coming on,” Finn quipped.
Axel smiled. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes, sir. As transparent as… is there something more transparent than a window?” Finn laughed heartily.
“Here’s the thing, Finn—and tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but there’s something I don’t understand about what Fortient is doing.”
“What’s that?”
Axel had to tread carefully. If he pushed too hard Finn might clam up and become adversarial.
“I don’t understand why Fortient’s innovation budget is being put on steroids. After the Catalytic acquisition on Thursday you have a three-billion-dollar expense line. That’s a heck of an imbalance for a division that generates less than a billion in revenue. And you know I’m not the only one asking questions. There have been stories in the financial media about board members becoming concerned. Some activist investors have been poking around as well.”
Finn’s expression could be telling. He’d been smiling in a good-natured way when Axel launched his inquiry—precisely the way you might smile when walking with a friend on the beach. But by the time Axel finished his question, the smile seemed stretched, like it required a feat of will to be maintained. Meanwhile Finn’s eyes darted back and forth, a window into some kind of internal debate.
Eventually, in the moment of silence that followed Axel’s question, Finn’s smile faded altogether.
“You haven’t spoken with Bhavin recently?” Finn asked.
“No. Can’t get a meeting.”
Finn nodded. He turned fully away from Axel and stared thoughtfully into the scudding clouds, indifferent to his impropriety.
Axel was patient. He hoped Finn would be more forthcoming with a passive approach.
When Finn turned back to Axel he looked different. A veil of discipline possessed his features, as if he’d spent the moment booting up his ops training from long ago. He spoke pointedly, with little affect. “You shouldn’t be poking around like this, Axel. I’m here, a guest at your house, and you know I could face consequences for telling you something Nadar doesn’t want me to say. The stakes here are high for me, and for Nadar Corporation as well.”
It wasn’t the dismissive response Rawlings could have given. Axel pushed forward.
“That’s precisely why I need to know,” Axel said. “I’ve shown my loyalty, yet I’m in the dark on something that could have an impact on my operation and on the company as a whole. I deserve to know what’s going on.”
Finn stared at him as if trying to see under his skin.
“Why don’t we start with a more straightforward question,” Axel said, trying another angle. “The Catalytic acquisition adds about a billion in operating costs to Fortient, but why? I don’t see the synergies, and the price was…” Axel let the trailing silence explain his view of the price.
This was something Rawlings must at least have a canned answer for. Rawlings nodded cautiously and responded. “Sure. I can explain that. Bytomic Corp—they have a new suite of software. It can help you optimize your job performance by running simulations of on-the-job clerical functions. Are you familiar with it?”
“Yes,” Axel answered, nodding. Bytomic was a star of the tech world that had become a diversified conglomerate. They’d been experiencing rapid growth in their technologies divisions. In particular, their simulation product had been growing by leaps and bounds in the last two years.
“We want to be able to compete with their Wog software. It’s the main platform for their self-driving cars and simulators. Catalytic has the technology to help us do that.”
Axel had seen one of the financial bloggers make the same connection. It was a plausible enough corporate narrative—plausible enough to be accepted so people wouldn’t seek out the real reason.