The Fallen and the Elect

by Jerry J. K. Rogers

  Chapter 17

  Alder was beginning to feel the pressure of his new position. He admitted to himself that he was feeling overwhelmed. Even Gary, Alder’s boss, was aware of his new director’s stress. Alder had never fully comprehended the number and scope of projects Everest was involved with until after he started reviewing the overall budget and accounting numbers for his division. A bombardment of transactions to be approved--capital projects in building new labs, modifying testing facilities, and other major undertakings requiring budgetary documentation review, filled his inbox. His calendar was packed with constant budget meetings, discussing the progress of existing projects, funding for new projects, or the close-out of completed or unsuccessful projects. What didn't help was that some of the projects had spanned years. He wasn't sure how all the charge backs, capitalized costs, and expenditures were intended to be identified on the ledgers. Should they be under capital project names and budgets, R & D project names and their unique tertiary budgets, or another budgetary system that floated around based on Jeffrey's paperwork, just not well documented?

  Alder pulled the bottom project folder from his inbox with the label: “Capital Project: Excalibur” on line one. Line two read “Department: Pharmaceuticals.” Opening the folder, he read a summary sheet showing the capital project to modify one of the company’s laboratories in Canada to develop and test new biotechnologies. The number of labs and projects Everest operated outside of the United States stunned Alder. He continued to review the summary sheet, which showed the business unit overseeing the proposal was requesting validation of major line item expenditures to ensure the project originators were on target with their forecasts. Great, another meeting with another business unit to discuss another project, he thought. He was now up to five major meetings next week, with different section leads wanting to discuss budget requests, forecasts, and overruns. Reviewing the rest of the sheet, he saw that an analysis would be needed to ensure the amount requested would fall in line with the overall amount budgeted to the R & D division. A post-it note adhered to the sheet with the request: “Please review and edit capital exec summary and justification.” Alder put the folder to the side on his “to do” stack, now four folders high.

  He pulled a folder from the bottom of another small stack covering agricultural genetic engineering projects on his desk. He opened the multipart folder to find the same format with the first page as a summary and routing sheet. This review would require minimal effort and consisted of follow-up information from previous routings. After examining the planned expenditure postings and modifications, Alder signed and put the folder on his completed stack. Now there were three.

  Alder witnessed a tall, olive-skinned, young woman with Mediterranean features and long black hair enter his office without announcement. It was Sheila, Gary Applethorpe's assistant. She carried a multipart folder three to four inches thick, dwarfing the size of the other folders on his desk. Sheila was making it a habit to come in freely despite Alder's request that she knock or gesture from the door before coming in. His talking to Gary about it only emboldened her to continue.

  “What do you want Sheila?” Alder inquired, attempting to preemptively gather the upper hand and feign ignorance of the documents she held.

  Sheila stopped in front of Alder's desk and scanned his desktop like a predator surveying for a weakness in its prey. She smirked, opened the folder in her arms, pulled a sheet of paper out, and slung it purposefully in front of him.

  “We need for you to initial this,” she commanded.

  “We?” Alder responded.

  She raised a somewhat thick eyebrow on her beautiful face. “I don't think I stuttered, we. Gary is working this project and I need to get this paperwork signed off so that I can send it forward for action.”

  Alder glanced at the sheet. It was a standard journal voucher request form for a project with the primary name blacked out. Most of the subheadings on entries of funding transfers between spawned subprojects were also redacted. Looking at the numbers, they balanced out properly. The block for Alder's initials and the one for Gary's signature were they only areas that were blank. The other business unit coordinators had scribbled their initials and signatures in the appropriate blocks.

  “And what exactly am I signing? Can I take a look at the supporting documentation to make sure these numbers line up within the budget forecast and outflow tracking?” Alder asked. Even though the numbers on the sheet were accurate, he wanted to ensure that the ledger entry transfers being requested were in line with the assigned project vouchers.

  A heavy, angry sigh emanated from Sheila: “Look, just go ahead and initial,” she demanded, rolling her eyes. “Everyone else did.”

  “So, what the hell am I signing? Technically all I have here is just a sheet with numbers. Look here, there's a reference to a subsidiary called Aversol. I don't have any information on them, no business unit code, no assigned ledger codes, nothing I can easily cross-reference against the original funding documents,” Alder countered, pushing the paper back across his desk toward Sheila.

  “You're not gonna sign it?”

  “Not until I talk to Gary because I can't review the information I need.”

  “Fine,” Sheila responded, snapping up the sheet of paper and putting it back in the folder as she left Alder's office.

  Several minutes later, Alder received the intercom call he anticipated. Gary requested him in his office. Alder thought he heard a bit of glee in Sheila's voice as she talked to him.

  Arriving at Gary's office, Alder walked directly by Sheila's desk and knocked on the door before he could be intercepted.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Dennison,” she blurted out angrily. Alder ignored her and knocked again.

  “Yes Sheila?” Gary's voice echoed from the other side of the door. Alder opened the door.

  “Oh, come on in Alder.” Alder grinned at Sheila while closing the door behind him. He went and sat comfortably in one of the large seats next to the coffee table where they had had their earlier discussions. Gary joined him. Alder identified a couple of project folders and a collection of papers on the table resembling those Sheila had brought into his office earlier.

  “You and Sheila still seem to be at odds with one another,” Gary commented.

  “We'll work it out.”

  “Good, I'm sure you’ll both see eye to eye. I don't want to have to keep getting involved. These types of petty issues tend to muddy up the works.”

  “Hell, I'm just looking at it as a form of initiation from her since I'm the new kid on the block.”

  The comment garnered a small smile from Gary. “Well, your first week here is pretty much finished. How's it going so far?”

  “OK, I guess.”

  “Well, I know there was a lot on your plate when you started this position. Don't forget you can delegate some of the projects and coordination to your direct reports.”

  Alder had delegated several of the minor accounting assignments to his three managers but had held onto the larger ventures. “Thanks Gary, but I just want to get a feel right now for the lay of the land.”

  “Fair enough. So what's this about not wanting to sign off on the journal voucher transfer approval sheet?” Gary asked.

  “I don't feel too comfortable just blindly signing a sheet of paper associated with a project I know nothing about,” Alder responded assertively but not sternly so as not to upset his boss.

  “Remember Alder, there were some projects I told you that I wanted to keep close to the vest? Well, that's one of them. What I will tell you is this; remember when we discussed the mission statement of Everest? This project in some ways is a culmination of that mission statement.”

  Alder's curiosity was ignited. What did this project consist of? He thought. He decided not to press the issue. “So then, you do need my signature?”

  Gary continued. “I've been associated with this project throug
h the years in one form or another, and now it’s become a high-priority goal for me to see it through. We have some highly valued and respected investors sponsoring this research. There have been some serious roadblocks along the way but we're able to move forward now. And for a while, Jeffrey had managed that part of the funding administration. I'm quite sure you're already aware of some of the fuckups he caused. If it wasn't because of his father's influence and incessant intervening, we would’ve been able to deal with Jeffrey and not have to work hard to correct a hell of a lot of his inadvertent disclosures.”

  “Well, I definitely don't want to be a roadblock either,” Alder, said. He wasn't sure why, but he was extremely troubled. He knew that by signing he could authorize essentially unauthorized budget transfers, payments, or expense charges against a non-associated capital project account. Not good. Alder knew to remain firm in his unwillingness to sign his name on the paperwork. He continued, “Gary, you know what, the reality is that I don't want to sign anything without an understanding of the transactions, expenses, and assigned codings.”

  Gary sat back into the couch. Was Gary offended, was he irate, or was he perhaps impressed by the fortitude Alder thought he was displaying? Alder could tell his boss was contemplating his response, analyzing him and his body language.

  Gary went stone faced. Only a few seconds passed but to Alder they were like eons with Gary's austere expression. Gary reached down and pushed the file folder, abloom with papers and sticky pad notes, in front of Alder, and pulled out the same sheet Sheila presented earlier. It made Alder realize, since the mass disappearance, how the digital revolution severely curtailed the managing of day-to-day business; accessing computer systems, file servers, data files, and financial accounts had become very cumbersome for those remaining, if not impossible. There were reports of entire company IT departments left empty, with the network administrators able to access and reset passwords themselves gone. As he looked at the large folder, Alder sneaked a glance at the label: “Project: Aurora, Bio-Medical; Genetic Engineering–Prototype 4.” It was another project with sensitive data that Jeffrey had carelessly exposed prior to his death. Alder thought that perhaps Gary was keeping a tighter rein with his managerial response to prevent any future unintended disclosures.

  “Look, here’s what we could do. We’ll assign unique budget code identifiers for distinct items. Let’s say pens, pencils, paper, whatever--those types of expense items will be given a code identifying office supplies. Then let’s say major expense items or capital items would each have a unique identifier. Only thing is you wouldn’t know the actual item. There would be a preapproved cross-reference table we can keep secure. This way we can keep many of our secret expenses secret so our competitors won’t get a good picture of what we’re doing from the accounting side,” Gary referenced.

  “I don’t know, still sounds kinda odd.”

  “That’s one way of administering sensitive and secret skunk works projects. You have to think we want to protect the investments and intellectual property of the company.”

  “But there’s still a chance …”

  “All I can say is just trust that when it comes to signing off these closed projects,” Gary started interjecting to prevent Alder from continuing. Sheila entered into the office interrupting Gary.

  “Mr. Applethorpe, they called back about the progress on the one project you had asked about earlier. They wanted to let you know they were successful in moving into the third phase.”

  Gary's face brightened. “Excellent, tell them I'll drive over right way.” He focused his attention back to Alder, his giddiness from the phone call morphed back into a stern manifestation of authority. “Alder, sign,” Gary commanded.

  Back in his office, after the confrontation with Sheila, talk with Gary, and ever-growing stack of project folders on his desk, Alder glanced at this watch. It was already four in the afternoon and thought to himself, I need a drink. Hell, he might have just signed a sheet of paper that would result with him going straight to jail years later.

  The next morning Alder returned to his office to see a battalion of varied file folders resting on his desktop. He knew they wouldn't have been worked on since last night. Feeling a bit dehydrated from his drinking endeavors the previous evening, Alder decided to head to the campus commissary to grab a cup of coffee. Once there, after filling a large Styrofoam cup nearly three-fourths full and adding a packet of hot chocolate, he joined Branson Wynn, a peer from Marketing promoted at the same time, having replace William Sumner. He was sitting by himself at a small table for two by a large, wall-sized window that overlooked the fountain adorning the main entrance of the campus complex. Longing face, sullen gaze, dejected expression, he externally exhibited Alder's internal frustrations. He also noticed new gray hairs assaulting Branson’s low-cut Afro since their initial director’s meeting.

  “Thank God it's Friday,” Alder said.

  “What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

  “Supposed to go shopping with the wife. Oh, joy. And then off to a birthday party for a friend of my daughter.” Branson caught the sarcasm in Alder's voice. Alder continued, “Plus I promised the wife I'd go visit Stephen again.”

  “Shit, forgot all about him. It’s been so damn busy. How's he doing anyway?”

  “Last time I went to visit him he was doing fine. Still not adjusted to going blind though.”

  “Yeah, that's some weird shit that happened. Not to be rude, but all of that is the least of my worries. With all this crap going on, and trying to catch up with so much paperwork that’s backed up, I don't know why I accepted this new position. There's a hell of a lot of cloak-and-dagger shit they're working on in R & D.”

  “For the government?” Alder speculated aloud. Branson made a point to know quite a few details of the business unit operations. Alder never knew as much, except what may have come through the grapevine, about the projects being worked in R & D. He thought that even after working in the division for a number of years, he was ignorant as to the company's mission objectives and revenue-generating accomplishments. Being promoted, he fooled Gary pretty well.

  “Believe it or not, I don't think so,” Branson answered. “I just know that they've been keeping so much shit secret lately because of all the deaths, they don't want to reveal too much to all the new faces in the new positions. Hell, business as usual right?”

  Alder leaned into his coworker and dropped his voice. “Do you think we made the right choice accepting our new positions?”

  “Can you say ‘career suicide’ if we hadn't?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Hell, with the stuff we're working on.”

  “Did you know we're trying to market a genetic engineering process to agribusiness? Without getting into the some of the consequences, we have to make sure we don't reveal some of the negative conseque...hell, I just better shut up about that,” Branson said. Although he’d gotten to know Alder more during the last week in several of the meetings they held as peers, he still felt uncomfortable opening up freely to him.

  Alder understood completely, and Branson sensed Alder’s empathy in his revealing nod.

  Branson continued, “I mean some things they'll pass on to us to help get the job done. Sometimes they just hold back key data, don’t let us know everything we need to know about a project. How do they expect us to come up with an effective strategy?”

  “I know where you're coming from. They want me to sign shit, but I have no idea what it’s for.”

  “Try having your teams build a market strategy without any of the raw data you need to be successful.”

  “I don't follow,” Alder noted, now wishing he knew more details about the business units instead of spending many years in the company focused on being a xenophobic accountant.

  “On some of the projects that move from R&D to testing, we're to see if a market exists, maybe open up new ones, blah, blah, blah. Well, some of
the projects go back for years through the transitions of various subsidiaries. We're told to look at where these may have failed before and find out why. In some cases, the products were flawed, like genetically modified food plants kicking off undesired results. Hell, in many cases they don't give us all the information we need to know about what was marketed. I have one team working on a project pulling data from up to three or four years ago. They find out the lab was renamed and then couldn't find out anything else relating to the previous company. One of the bigger pains in the ass is from an old string of medical clinics the company sponsored called Aversol, but something happened and they renamed them under the Waterfall trade name. Sometimes we go through this if there's fuckups or even perceived fuckups, when the product may not even be the cause of what ever happened, especially if it’s a product that appears will have long-term legs. We have to go through rebranding, marketing blitzes, and in worst-case scenarios sometimes renaming companies to remove any association of defective or flawed commodities. Of course, we need to rebrand to keep from having a negative impact on future projects development based on the same technologies, otherwise key investors may up and pull their money. Hell, one we're working through goes as far back as over ten years ago. They won't give up any data. They just say deal with it and move on. Build a marketing strategy. Pisses me off.”

  “You mean projects like the one named Aurora?”

  “You’re not supposed to know that name,” Branson shot back.

  Clarity hit Alder. “Damn, I think that explains some of the long-term issues, like pension calculations under payroll, unsubstantiated payouts, crap like that. But you know what, even with the weird accounting, in the end somehow, it added up, at least for now. That’s all, everything isn’t necessarily revealed on our side either.”

  “Sounds like you're able to navigate through this mess better than my teams. Hell, I should stop complaining,” Branson said, taking a drink from the Styrofoam cup sitting in front of him and scowling, his coffee having become lukewarm. “Shit, I sat here longer than I should. I should get back to work.” Leaving the table, Branson reached out his hand and shook Alder's.

  Alder remained rooted in his seat, not wanting to return to his office and confront the stack of folders he needed to review and sign. After a couple more swallows of his coffee-chocolate mixture, he worked up the confidence to face the paperwork. He felt he could use a drink.

  Sherry, one of the newer managers he personally had been able to promote from among the pool of accountants and budget specialists in the bullpen, was waiting outside Alder’s office with a nervous and tense look, holding a couple of project folders. Great, more work, he thought. It was both directly and indirectly because of her diligence and attention to detail, that many of the project folders were on his desk. She was skilled at finding the subtlest of erroneous postings and incorrect computations; and being skilled and knowledgeable and able to work issues between her peers, was a reason she was promoted to supervisor several years back. Her experience made it easy to select her as the newest manager for her section. Alder now tried to conjecture why she would be here waiting. After he invited her in, she stood opposite his desk politely turning down his request to take a seat while he sat down.

  “What’ve you got there Sherry?” he asked.

  “So I started doing some research and a lot of these numbers aren't making any sense. Some of the issues go back not just a few months, but years.”

  “Years?”

  “Yeah, years. Here look,” Sherry urged, stepping around next to Alder and flipping a folder open to a page with yellow stickies to point out where she had come across the discrepancies. The wafting smell of her overbearing perfume saturated his nostrils.

  Reading through the pages, Alder smiled, amused at the coincidence that some of the issues he’d been speaking with Branson about several minutes earlier would manifest themselves again so soon. Sherry was puzzled by her boss's reaction.

  “I think I see what's going on. Some of these issues look like they go back several years. They were charged under a project code associated with a different subsidiary name on the division’s general ledger. You'll just have to do a little background to cross-reference some of this info and I think it should clear up.”

  “Yeah I thought so too, but I don't have access to those files on the network, and the hard copies of the records are in the archival staging area. Not being at director level, I can't request them to be pulled and scanned. Only you or someone higher can do that.”

  Alder became dispirited, not wanting to deal with any additional projects. Yet he knew he would have to work this issue out for Sherry so that she could continue her work. Keeping her engaged with many of the issues helped reduce the mounds of folders on his desk. “I'll take care of it and get back with you.”

  While Sherry walked out of the office, Alder glanced through the numbers on the summary sheets she’d generated. Everest was burning through quite a bit of money in the genetic engineering R & D division. Although the tally of the numbers looked as if legitimate, it almost appeared as if they were trying to conceal sources of their funding along with the actual amounts associated with key projects.