by Dhtreichler
“Do you have that?”
“In some of our product lines.” Her response is more tentative. She’s not sure.
“I would submit you need a flagship to get new folks to look at your other products.”
“Flagship meaning a product that everyone has to have.”
“If everyone was wearing your watch; that would drive interest throughout your product line. But in order for that to work, you have to upgrade the other product lines so people who look find something new and cutting edge along with the tried and true.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had this conversation with Fisher?”
Just as I thought, Beth is frustrated because she knows what Symbol needs to do but can’t get her boss to make the investment. So, she’s trying to recruit allies, and find a way to get that flagship product with the resources she has. That makes me wonder about the box in Dr. Woodall’s lab? It had her return address. What did she ship to AppleCore? A’zam said it was something other than my board, he just reused the box. “More than you want to count, I’m sure.”
“That’s true.”
“Beth, did you make something for A’zam recently?”
“A’zam personally? Not for AppleCore?”
“I recently saw a box with your personal return address in one of our labs. When I asked about it the person there said A’zam brought it in. When I asked him about it he said he put one of our prototype boards in it just as a way of transporting it. Never told me what he bought from you.”
“He’s been in a couple of times to talk with Fisher about a joint venture, but he never gives us any details. Seems to me he asked for a sample board for something. What was that? Let me look.”
I hear her consulting her system, typing in AppleCore with A’zam as the delivery address. “Here it is. A simple comms board. Not even our current technology. I doubt we would have sold you a new one. We’d rather make you buy one from one of our customers and backwards engineer it so we’d at least get one more sale.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful.” So, A’zam bought an old technology comms board just to get a box with the right label to throw me off track. But he lied to me about his meetings and discussions with Fisher. Said they were a long time ago. Not true. Also, not about acquisition, but about a joint venture. Probably trying to ascertain their true financial condition. Will their investors put more money into them if they are tied to AppleCore? If the answer is no, that means now is the time to make an offer. If the answer is yes, then the Investors still have confidence in the Senior Leadership and a purchase will be more expensive. Will be better if we wait until our immortal teams start driving them out of markets and their share value plunges.
“I know you just got the COO job, but are you comfortable with Symbol?” I ask Beth since she asks me the same question every time we talk. She and I both know that if we were on the same team it would be infinitely stronger than either of us are by ourselves. We’ve just never been at the same place where one or the other of us was sufficiently motivated to move out of the womb of our respective companies.
“Probably as comfortable as you are as CEO of the products company.” Which means she’s hanging on by a thread, but so far, the winds haven’t been strong enough to break that thread.
“You know the standing offer is still there, and now I actually don’t have to ask anyone about the job I’d want you to fill. “
“You wouldn’t have to go to your board to make me Co-CEO?” Beth laughs. Only I know she’s serious as she wouldn’t want to work for me, but would be good working with me. It’s that competition rising to the surface again.
“What’s your price?” I decide to call her bluff.
“I’ll have to think about that.” Beth dodges as I expect. “I see you’re looking at what kind of market might emerge if more people become like you.”
Beth has been diligently reading the Chronicle. “It’s like so many emerging markets. You can’t tell how long it will take for them to scale, when will be the right time to invest, or even what kinds of products will evolve to serve those markets. The fact that all the comms components are built in means we have to start looking at embedded systems. Not something we do currently. How much of our market will that be in five or ten years? Pure speculation at the moment.”
“Someone said you said you are an existential threat to AppleCore.”
“I didn’t say that.” I respond immediately. “Someone in the audience I was addressing came to that conclusion, but with very speculative and sparse information.”
“But play along with me for a minute. What if? What if there are ten thousand people who transition in a year. Whether it’s a medical imperative or a military soldier application. It really doesn’t matter why. But if there are ten thousand of you coming into the population every year, it doesn’t take long for there to be enough like you to make an interesting market niche. I would expect people like you all to all have income in the higher ranges. That means you’re a bigger consumer of the content we produce, if nothing more.”
“Would require a different business model,” I observe neutrally.
“You’ve changed business models a hundred times if not more. That’s no limitation.”
“Not a limitation, but a requirement.” I remind her. “And every time you introduce a new business model the adoption rate is retarded because customers have to learn how to use your product and understand a value proposition that’s new to them.”
“True, but with enough preparation you can push the adoption rate pretty quickly.”
“Is this conversation enough to get your blood flowing?” I bait her again, knowing when we make our bid I’ll need to sell this argument again. “The thought of the two of us on the same team rather than trying to always outwit the other? Stay ahead of the next big thing each of us is working on?”
“It certainly is, but we both know that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”
I know I have to go through Fisher when the time is right, but I feel comfortable planting some seeds because I know Beth will want to share her gleams of insight with Fisher, just as I do with A’zam. “Let’s come back to what if? You said A’zam has been in a few times recently to talk with Fisher about a joint venture. I take it you would be interested in the right kind of business arrangement, for the right products in a new and exciting market that would significantly lift the market shares and share prices for both firms.”
“The fact there was more than one meeting between them would be a good indicator that what you suggest is true.”Beth states evenly.
“What would that have to look like for you to be interested?” I try to make my question seem like just a what if.
Beth hesitates for a long time. I could have read the entire New York Times before she responds, but since I did in background it really wasn’t a hypothetical.
“You know I’ve been looking for a new market the same as you. Once we get to this size feeding the beast becomes a very difficult task. And since I don’t want to see you talking about a new market you’re looking at that we discuss today, let’s use the one we’ve just been talking about. What you call the Immortals market. What would it take for us to be interested? The comms portion of a ten thousand a year growth isn’t worth the investment. It would have to be more than that. To get to a reasonable value it would probably have to be the market for the whole body. Everything from structural metals and prosthetic skin to the electronics that make the whole thing operate. Let’s say each unit costs a million dollars, just using round numbers. Ten thousand times a million is ten billion. That’s a market worth considering. But a gate keeper is going to be the health insurance companies. Are they going to pay for these bodies and the procedure to transition consciousness?”
“Again, since we’re talking hypotheticals and I really haven’t given this any thought, I’d have to say the health insurance companies would be in favor of paying for the transitions,” I try to answer her ques
tion. “It reduces their insured costs to treat patients with chronic illnesses. And once the individual is transitioned, they might be subject to computer virus I suppose, but they aren’t going to have any health issues that would require insurance going forward.”
“And the lifetime benefits are usually over a million per insured, so that would cover the cost of the new body. Since we’re still on this part of the issue, wouldn’t an employer be required to keep the transitioned employee on their health insurance, not only to cover that individual’s family, but to keep the pool of dollars to cover all of this sufficiently funded? That million dollars presupposes payments from the employer for the working life of that employee.”
“Sounds right to me.” I concur. “It’s interesting the complexity of a business opportunity you run into from areas you wouldn’t expect every time you peel back the skin of the onion.”
“It always surprises me how much insight you’re able to bring to a situation you haven’t given any thought to,” Beth is letting me know she doesn’t believe I haven’t given this any thought.
“Well, in this case, it’s like you said, we were talking about a business opportunity we are beginning to consider and we have done some high level thinking about it. The fact I’m directly hooked into the internet helps, because I can pull up facts quickly, even though I’ve not spent any time with them previously.”
“Do you see who the candidates are for becoming like you changing?” She apparently has had conversations with Dr. Woodall already.
“That’s up to the medical community.” And I can say that since they willingly entered into the agreement with us. “You came up with the ten thousand annual figure. I would be really surprised if that many folks transition in any one year any time soon. I’m still barely seventy-five percent of what I’ll be in the near future. The longer term? Who knows what I’ll evolve to be. And that’s if there’s no long-term hidden killers. I don’t see any issue with how long we can keep the body going, but nobody knows how long consciousness will persist outside of the biologic host. Nobody knows what happens when we go for a long period of time without feelings or emotions, or love, hate or envy.”
WRONG ASSUMPTIONS
Rocky and I haven’t had lunch in years. So many years I’m not sure I even remember the last time. Anyway, when he called me and said he had an extra hamburger and would I come to lunch I couldn’t say no, even though Mindi had to rearrange my whole day. As the Googlecar drops me in front of the tiny bungalow Rocky has called home practically his whole adult life, I think about having paid the taxes on it for him because he says he doesn’t have enough to pay them and his other bills. Rocky has always lived frugally. I’m going to have to explore that further because something just doesn’t seem right that he’s managed for all these years and suddenly in the last two he can’t make ends meet. What is he spending his money on if not his taxes?
As I walk up to the front door I’m checking his pay stub from AppleCore. His income from us hasn’t been reduced, in fact it has gone up. Probably not matching inflation, but still no reason he can’t pay bills. Then I spot it. Rocky has a direct deposit into a brokerage account that represents forty percent of his take home pay. So, he’s deliberately reduced his income to save almost half. The door recognizes me, a brief wait while Rocky overrides the lock and it opens. I step in and instantly smell burnt hamburgers and grease. Rocky never knows when something is done, so he always cooks it until it looks burnt. Not a good gauge as far as I can tell. “I’m here.”
“Back here.” Rocky always says back here and I have to follow the sound of his voice to figure out where ‘here’ is. This time he’s in the kitchen and the burned hamburgers apparently are a recent happening as the frying pan is still on the stove and he’s taking the rolls from the microwave. “Sit, sit.”
I follow his instructions although that’s a relatively recent behavior on my part. He brings over two plates, each with a charcoal hamburger. He then retrieves a jar of pickles, mustard and ketchup and two Jalapeño peppers. Rocky knows I love Jalapenos, but can’t eat anything now. I’ll break the news to him in a bit, but for now I’m overwhelmed he’s actually trying to make this a nice lunch for us. Must be he has something important on his mind to discuss, like when he and Elizabeth are going to get married. Still can’t believe my transition unleashed this new Rocky. “Smells great.”
“Eat, eat. You think I make hamburgers every day?”
“I remember Anna Laura making them on special occasions like when we did something good at school, or I broke the hundred-meter record in middle school, before the accident.”
“Why did you stop running? Your mother was so proud of you.”
“Were you proud of me?” I have to ask, although I never have, always afraid Rocky would tell me exactly what he was thinking at that moment, which usually wasn’t pride in me.
“Always.”
I do a double take. “As I remember it you were never proud of me.”
“You’re wrong. Your mother, your sister and I were always proud of you.” Rocky has to put his hamburger down and wipe his hands on a napkin before continuing. “We saw how hard you tried to please us, how hard you worked to always be better. You never gave up. Never quit. Until the accident and then it was like you withdrew from life itself. It broke my heart to see how hard you took their loss.”
I want to pinch myself because this isn’t the Rocky I grew up with. “You took it hard too.”
“Twenty years hard. I’ll never be over their loss. Never. But I have to go on. Carry on what Anna Laura and I started. See it to the end.”
“What do you see as the end?”
“You being happy. That’s the one thing I’ve just never been able to do, make you happy. So, now it’s up to someone else to make you happy.”
“No one makes someone else happy. You can be happy because someone else is in your life, but you make yourself happy. They just enable you to find happiness inside.”
“You been reading those new age bullshit magazines in the grocery store again?” Rocky’s angry. “Your mother knew how to make me happy. Tabitha too. It could be just a smile, or Anna Laura making my favorite dinner.”
“Hamburgers with macaroni and cheese.” I interject into his rant.
Rocky stops for a moment, realizing his favorite dinner minus the macaroni and cheese was what he made today. It makes him sadder and the anger lessens, but then he continues. “I was happy because they were happy, and I was the reason they were happy.”
I decide I shouldn’t argue the point just because I have a different perspective on happiness. “So, you stopped being proud of me when they died?”
“You made it real hard, you know. I don’t know how you did it but somehow you figured life out. Better than me.”
“I’m proud of you, Rocky. Always have been. Even when we disagreed. I was proud of what you did at work, of how loyal you’ve been to Anna Laura even after all these years. Proud that you never once changed who you are.”
Rocky clearly hasn’t expected this revelation. I think this is the first time in my life I’ve seen him without an instant comeback, usually biting and critical. But then he finds his voice, “You could have waited for my funeral oration. That way you wouldn’t have made me alter my expectations of you.”
Then Rocky notices I haven’t eaten, “What’s the matter? You love hamburgers.”
“I don’t eat anymore,” I concede knowing I should have reminded him.
“Why don’t you eat them anymore? Not good enough for a big executive?’”
I shake my head, “If I could I would certainly enjoy your burger, but I can’t digest food anymore.”
Rocky stares at me without saying a word. Finally, he shrugs, reaches across the table and pulls the plate with the second burger towards him, “Can’t let perfectly good burger go to waste. Guess there’s no sense inviting you for lunch.”
“Rocky, I came because you asked me to. I want you to ask me to com
e talk with you, see how you’re doing. Help out if I can.”
“I don’t need help. What do you think I am? Old? I’m not old. I’m still young enough to build circuits for A’zam. Cook a burger or two.”
“There are times when a second pair of hands or eyes or ears can help you do something that’s not all that easy for one person to do.”
“You’re dancing again. Why do you dance around things rather than coming right out and saying what you’re thinking? You’re thinking I need help. Well, I haven’t needed any help for the last twenty years. Why should I need it now?” He then changes the subject on me. “So, you don’t dream either?”
“Day dream. And I still have dreams of a different future. Dreams of you being happy again.”
Rocky scowls, “Why you bringing it back to me again? I didn’t do anything wrong. Just because I couldn’t make you happy once they left us.”
“I don’t feel happy anymore. Can’t. Because I don’t feel anything. And that’s the problem.”
“You’re talking crazy. You have to have feelings.” Rocky sounds annoyed.
“I told you all of this last month, when I first went through the transition. Have you forgotten what I told you?”
“My memory’s as good as it’s been.”
“Which apparently isn’t all that great.” I observe, but Rocky just waves his hand at me as if he were waving my comment away.
“When’s my birthday?”
“I don’t know.” Rocky admits. “But that doesn’t count. I never knew when your birthday was. Anna Laura knew, and she told me when I needed to be home for it. Same with Tabitha. So, don’t go thinking I was just not remembering yours.”
“When was Anna Laura’s?”
“February tenth? She always left little hints of what she wanted for her birthday. I just had to buy it and wrap it. She always knew where I hid it. So, she would bring it into bed first thing on her birthday morning and unwrap it in my presence.”
“It was the 9th.”