[TW: Suicide]
The meeting started out bad. Tara, the vice-president of human relations, was almost in tears. Joe, the head of facilities, had just breezed through to check the coffee maker, unaware of impending doom. Timothey (with an e), our beloved and uncharacteristically timid CFO got up to grab some coffee and spilled it as he sat back down. He barked at Joe that the coffee was always too damn hot, scaring them both and making Joe drop his keys. Timothey's hands were shaking visibly and it wasn't from the coffee.
Dr. Remoras, the president, was twiddling a pen through his fingers, oblivious to the breakdowns all around him, staring at the pen as it waggled back and forth. He was the stoic man of business; the unmoving rock to which the great hulk of the company moored. He was a decorated civil servant; a futurist shaping the hearts and minds of a new generation of sprouting Carnegie's; a touchstone for tomorrow. Today, he sat poised in his seat. Something was on his mind, and yet he waited.
The last to show up was my pal Judah. We shared an office and job titles. Judah and I were the "young blood" that was bound to "shake up existing paradigms". We were straight-out-of-college investment banking nerds, Judah with a focus on programming, and I with a focus in math. Together, we were creating a plan for how to magically transform this hulk of a company into something more like a butterfly. We weren't good friends, but we were amicable partners. He didn't have a great grip on reality, but Judah, though. He was a genius.
He didn't look like one today. He'd been out sick the day before, but if he'd been hit by a bus on his commute, he couldn't have looked worse. He was pale, sweating, and had almost-black circles under his eyes. He sat down gingerly, and leaned over to me.
"Miss anything?"
He cracked a smile. His eyes were drooping visibly.
"No. We were waiting for you."
He nodded.
"Is there coffee?"
"Yeah, Joe fixed the machine. Are you ok?"
I patted him on the back, and he just smiled.
"Yeah, I'll be alright later."
Judah got up for the coffee, and Dr. Remoras rose from his seat.
"What we have here in front of us is the collapse of the company. The executive board and I have been up all night, discussing solutions and weighing every possibility with the utmost gravity, and yet there seems to be no possible way to get out of this situation privately. Any of the public options; insurance, bankruptcy, restructuring; none of those options will allow us to keep the faith of our stockholders long enough to to successfully complete our current mission.
"Overnight, a huge chunk of cash disappeared. "Disappeared" might be the wrong word, because it didn't happen all at once, but slowly, bit by bit, over the last month. Someone -- something -- has been skimming out of the futures investment fund, and making the stolen cash disappear without a trace. I've had my best forensic specialists on it, and they have no idea how it was done.
"I am coming to you today to devise the best crash-landing we can, so that we can salvage something from the wreckage while saving a shred of our public integrity. Barring that, we'll be faced with re-evaluating our mission. We may have to start over."
It was one of those action-movie bomb moments, when everything is slow motion and the incessant, growing ringing in your ears drowns out every thought except "failure" or "death" or "why". I hadn't known about any of this. I saw my career lying before me, like the path in Pilgrims Progress, except I was now on some by-way, headed into a swamp. Why did I think of Pilgrims Progress? Sheesh... I really went down into the early-medieval period of my childhood for that metaphor.
Through the slow-motion haze, I saw Judah raise his hand. I blinked a couple times to clear the fog. I watched a droplet of sweat build on his chin, quivering there until it fell onto the faux-mahogany table. I saw him stand up.
"Dr. Remoras..."
His voice was alien, rasping.
"Dr. Remoras... everybody... you're the best. I... I love every one of you like a brother... well, or a mom... or... well you get it it was me dammit"
There were tears and sweat all over his face now.
"Dr. Remoras? Never hire programmers to do your shit for you... You're giving us the keys to your Formula-1 and asking us to park it in your garage!? Well don't be surprised when it all comes back to you.. don't be surprised when your own happiness machine blows up in your face because some punk decided to take a joy-ride. You all, all you folks, you get drunk on your own power and then expect us to climb that ladder, well, it shouldn't surprise you that the ladder falls down, because you stuck the chainsaw in my hands yourself!! You guys created a beast, and I slew the dragon. With my bare, keyboard-claw hands dammit!"
The room was freeze-framed. Judah stood, pleading, his hands clutched to him. He was staring Dr. Remoras right in the eyes, and Dr. Remoras looked back at him, unmoved.
"Just because you don't have the integrity to keep out of trouble doesn't mean that I should go back to my rolodex."
"This isn't about personal integrity. This is about too much power in too many places. This is about flaunting your property right under a guys nose and asking him to..."
He stopped. He stood gulping, still pointing his finger at Dr. Remoras, blinking and stunned. You could see his mind fixated on one single thought.
"This is on your hands Remoras!"
He was very quiet now, calm.
"This is you. These are your hands. You pushed me off the edge!"
He jumped.
Red and white and blue lights. Freedom comes flying around the corner, ready to save a poor lost soul. The lights flickering up, cascading to the sky from the street through the rain, glimmering between the many crystalline giants of industry growing up toward somewhere, but not to God, not even to the stars. Upward, upward. Higher! Oh, that one's getting close! Almost there... yes yes, keep going! This next one will make it, surely, whoops... no. He missed his footing.