Connected, Inc.

Chapter One

Even without my presence, the Loyola office had fallen into a tense stream of action. Something akin to apprehension had accompanied the news from Bienville's tech wing. I say something akin to it; my elite staff doesn't experience anxiety on my account.

"This cannot be happening right now," Simons muttered into his hands. "Tina, has he replied to any of our messages?"

Tina said, "No, Mr. Simons, he has not yet opened any of the fifty-two emails, forty-four text messages, or thirteen voicemails he received from this office alone over the past hour."

"Fantastic." Simons rolled his neck, left to right and back again. "This was a perfect time for him to pull one of his classic disappearing acts."

"Yes," Tina said. "I'm sorry his absence has proven so inconvenient to you."

Simons pushed back the chair he was sitting in and stared up at Tina. "Who programmed you to have that much sass?"

"I did," Alain Jensen said, full of his usual good cheer, as he walked into the conference room. "If you deigned to join us here at Headquarters more often, you would surely develop more of an appreciation for it."

"I'm sure I would," Simons said dryly. Alain grinned and took a seat near the head of the table.

All across the Moynahan Corporation, Alain is known as the company's "Great Dane." I don't mean he's a dog. He's Danish, utterly brilliant, and irreversibly pleasant. I've known the man for seven years and have only seen him angry once.

More staff members filed into the conference room. They took their customary seats, but conversation was minimal.

Once everyone had settled in, the little chatter that did exist faded to a murmur. I folded my hands. "This meeting will come to order."

Several of the newer hires jumped at the sound of my voice. Alain chuckled. "Jesus, Moynahan," Simons hissed.

"Credit, Simons. You were the one who mentioned my disappearing act." I waved my hand in front of me twice, vanishing and then reappearing with the motion. Lightbending. It's harder than it looks. "Now, then. Where are we?"

"The better question is, where were you?" Simons replied. "We lost precious time waiting on you."

"Such little faith. You lost time, perhaps." I nodded toward the person on my right, Sandra Monk. "Status report, Sandra."

"Auto Tech is pulling the drive record now," Sandra said. "We haven't seen any of the data yet, but we aren't anticipating any problems."

The reports went around the conference table, as it always did.

"Public Relations is setting up a press conference. We're fielding questions until you give us the okay."

"The JPSO has been in touch. They just want basic info so far. We're cooperating."

"We're also working with three different insurance agencies. There's been no trouble yet."

"The car will be towed to Bienville's factory for a preliminary evaluation. Then they'll send it to our Michoud facility."

And so on. In time, the cycle reached Simons. He did not speak up. "Legal?" I asked gently.

"The team wanted to prepare a statement. I told them to wait until we'd heard from you." He sounded sheepish.

"Tell them to check with PR. Your team knows how to handle the situation. Better than I would, in fact." I nodded to the person on my left. "Alain."

"We're waiting to get the car back. Meanwhile, we're running sims. What-ifs. Nothing plausible yet."

"Anything is plausible within the human condition," I said. "I've just come from a meeting with Bienville's local leadership. We will issue a joint statement at noon. Fallon, they'll be in touch."

"Press conference?" Fallon asked. She was our vice-president for public relations.

I shook my head. "Not yet. We don't want to make a bigger deal of it than it is."

"Christian," Fallon said. "A Bienville Motors sedan loaded with our autonomous driving technology was involved in a fatal crash."

No one spoke. It was the first time I had heard the situation laid out plain, described aloud. My staff had spoken around it. Even the Bienville team had referred to the matter obliquely, trusting that we all knew what we were discussing and why.

A certain gravity befell the room. The silence grew uncomfortable. At last I chose a course and said, "Then we must operate with the reverence that such an occasion deserves. But if our car is not at fault, we must distance ourselves immediately. We cannot afford the damage to our reputation at this juncture."

There were a few nods and a few indirect glances.

"Tina," I added, "strike my last statement from your personal record."

"Acknowledged," Tina said from her small side desk. I noted she said that and not "confirmed."

"Excellent work, everyone," I said. "Please pass all this information on to your teams. Keep respectful but also keep our response contained until we have a clearer idea of what happened. Once we do, send your data to Fallon and Simons. Don't wait on me." I stood, and everyone else did as well. "Thank you all. Stay connected. Tina, five minutes. Simons, with me."

The meeting adjourned, and everyone returned to their usual places, hard at work at avoiding a crisis.