Beth’s eyebrows rise.
I haven’t heard about this.
“The message appears to be a countdown ending today at noon Pacific Standard Time. Google scientists believe it may end in a cataclysmic event. Space enthusiasts from across the globe are gathering to mark the event, some proclaiming it to be the apocalypse.”
The end of the world in two hours? Beth chuckles. Great way to start the week.
“War update - China is escalating its cyber warfare offensive, attacking banks and infrastructure along the East Coast. Tomorrow the President is expected to declare bold initiatives that may include tariffs on information and technology.”
Beth’s eyes widen. “Cooper, get my executive staff on the line.”
Instantly, six frames appear on the tablet, each caption with a title—Chief Financial Officer, Chief Legal Officer, Chief Marketing Officer, Chief Technology Officer, Chief Communications Officer, and Chief Human Resources Officer. One by one, the executives answer the call and appear on the screen.
Beth stares into the tablet’s camera. “Team, it has come to my attention that new war measures go into effect tomorrow and we will be affected. We must stand up against the government. We can’t allow them to dictate our policies.”
The group is silent.
She raises her voice. “Did you hear me? Google will not be a party to the President’s actions. The government wants to punish China and Russia with new rules that will backfire and hurt everyone at home. We will put up resistance, understood?”
No one speaks up.
Beth grinds her teeth. “Ben? What do you know about these tariffs?”
Ben Daley, Chief Technology Officer, shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know anything about them.”
Thomas Rosenberg breaks the silence. “Beth, are you talking about the motion approved by our shareholders last week, the Information Tariffs?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I ratified them yesterday.”
Beth fumes in anger. “You did what?! You executed the changes without running them by me?”
He hesitates. “…they told me you authorized the plans. In fact, your signature was on the docket.”
“Who’s they?”
“GoldRock.”
Camila Dominguez, Chief Legal Officer, interrupts. “GoldRock submitted them to me as well and threatened legal action if I didn’t approve. We had no choice—”
“This is coercion,” Beth shouts. “GoldRock is illegally manipulating my leadership team!”
“They know what they’re doing,” Camila says. “The moves were approved by our shareholders and we’re legally bound to execute them.”
Beth shakes her head. “Manos is behind all of this. Why are you so afraid of him? GoldRock is just an investment company?”
Thomas shrugs. “They have an army of lawyers and government officials backing them. We don’t stand a chance.”
Beth points at the camera. “Bullshit! You will listen to me. As Google’s CEO, I have the final say on our policies, and I refuse to institute these new rules. Camila, I want you to take legal action and delay them from going into effect. Do you understand?”
Camila sighs. “We can try, but it’s an uphill battle.”
“Do any of you see the stakes here?”
The team is silent.
Beth fumes. “You want people to pay for web search? You want to tax information like it’s a commodity? Imagine the consequences. Our culture and legacy are on the line. Google’s core principles will be wiped away the second these tariffs go online…”
Her executive staff disappears, and the screen goes blank as Cooper’s voice fills the cockpit. “Beth, there is an incoming call from unknown. You are required to accept this call.”
What the hell?
A bearded man in a navy suit appears on the tablet screen. “Bethany Andrews?”
Beth blocks the camera with her hand. “Who are you? How did you get my phone number?”
“This is Gareth Allen from the CIA. I’m calling to notify you that we are issuing a warrant for your arrest.”
Her face grows pale. “What is this about?”
“You are charged with leaking sensitive state information, a felony under federal law.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“You can ask your employee, Austin Sanders. We gave him classified information about an encrypted radio signal and he appears to have released it to the press. This is a serious offense, Dr. Andrews. We will prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.”
“Radio signal? I haven’t heard of this before.”
“A court order will be sent to you. We will see you soon.” He ends the call.
Beth rubs her face in frustration.
Everything is falling apart.
“Cooper, call Austin Sanders.”
After a brief lag, Austin’s face appears on the tablet. “Good morning, boss.”
Beth seethes. “Hey, I received a troubling call from the CIA. What is this about classified information?”
“It’s nothing, Beth.”
“Apparently, you’ve committed a federal crime and I’m being held responsible!”
“What? There’s no crime here.”
“Did the CIA contact you about a radio signal?”
Austin falters. “…well, yes. They thought it was secret communications from China but it turns out to be from space. It’s some sort of countdown from a star.”
Beth throws her hands in the air. “The countdown from Barnard’s Star? It’s all over the news! You’re the one behind this?”
He stutters. “…yes. My team cracked the code. I’m not sure how the story leaked to the press. Somehow it’s gone viral and now there’s a circus here on campus.”
She shakes her head. “This is too much, Austin. Come to my office in ten minutes. I’m arriving at work now.”
She ends the call as her helicopter approaches Mountain View and descends onto the employee parking lot. She glances below at the executive helipads and spots hundreds of protestors with placards.
What is going on?
The helicopter stops its descent and a red light flashes in the cockpit. “Beth, your parking space appears to be occupied. We cannot land here.”
She looks closer and sees people with signs—“Jesus is coming” and “What does Google know?”
“Cooper, what are these agitators doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Park the chopper on the executive level.”
The helicopter turns and heads for the tallest building on campus, landing on its rooftop helipad. Beth rushes from the vehicle and runs down a flight of stairs to her top-floor office. Her massive, oak-walled suite commands a sweeping view of Silicon Valley.
She turns on YouTube TV and flips to the news. “…with less than an hour remaining in the countdown from space, people around the world are frantically stocking up on food and emergency supplies…” Numbers flash on the bottom of the screen. “45:32, 45:31, 45:30…”
This is madness.
Beth places her Vision smartglasses on her face. “Cooper, send a message to my senior employees.”
“What would you like to say?”
She takes a deep breath. “Colleagues, I order you to delay the implementation of the Information Tariffs. We are at a critical crossroads. External forces are attempting to change Google’s culture. Their fear-mongering and strong-arm tactics must not sway us from our mission.”