Prelude to Wayward Son

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Prelude to Wayward Son:

By: Joseph Hansen a.k.a. H. J. Harry

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"I have to assume you are aware of the precarious situation this revelation puts us in, Mister Volkov."

Klavalkian's stern face glared from across his desk within the sparsely decorated room of the security office. There were no plaques, certificates, or awards decorating the walls. Volkov got the impression this wasn't a personal space, but he didn't know for sure. Upper management would always be a mystery to the hired help. Klavalkian wasn't the man's real name; only a select few used their real name at Tri-Fold.

Volkov didn't know if the man had a family, played golf, or even fished. None of that mattered. What did matter was the fact that, as the security administrator, Klavalkian was a board member—and the only board member who held a physical position within the company, which made him Volkov's boss. There was no sidestepping his authority, for within Tri-Fold, he was the end of the line.

"Yes sir, I am aware of the situations that have just arisen. I am doing my best to tally up the mistakes that have occurred due to our lack of understanding of what we were working with."

"Mistakes?" a board member who Volkov had seen before but had never spoken with interjected with a heavy accent. Based on the woman's rich-tan skin color, Volkov assumed she was from South or Central America. "I would hardly call something like this a simple mistake, Mister Volkov. No, I think not ... an atrocity is what this is."

"You are possibly right, board member Sanchez." Volkov took a gamble that she was the "Sanchez" he had heard referred to in the past. "However, as I keep reminding you ... we are doing things here that have never been done before, so there is no precedent for us to follow. There are going to be issues. It is simply the process of perfecting the science behind it. Everything great that has ever evolved from mankind had glitches like this. Here, the stakes are simply a bit higher. I understand that we must be extra cautious, but something is always going to slip through the cracks. We have caught it, so now we can fix it," Volkov finished, hoping his east coast brogue hadn't shone through.

"Thirty. That is the magic number here, Mister Volkov. Thirty times we have tried, and thirty times we have failed without noticing this issue. An issue that now seems obvious." Klavalkian's tone turned accusatory. "You have to admit that is a little disheartening, don't you, Mister Volkov?"

"Yes, it is disheartening. And I agree that now we know, it does seem obvious. I have no credible explanation and can only surmise at best. I won't waste your time with that. Instead, I will tell you our next few steps, if you will allow us to proceed."

Volkov knew his job was on the line, as well it should be. There were people suffering for his mistake.

He continued to address the board. "I am in contact with the doctors and therapists on staff. We are meeting within the hour to discuss the recent developments in the lower commons meeting room. I am not putting any of them at fault, as this has been a learn-as-you-go process since the beginning. If you will take a moment to reflect, you will see—"