by Leslie Wolfe
"Very possible. I can't think of any other scenario for now, but more ideas might come to mind as time passes and we review more information. Alex, do you have any other notable comments from the survey?"
"One more. This one states, cryptically, 'I will not repeat myself for the third time over,' indicating he or she has provided feedback twice before and has seen no improvement. This comment is helpful; it indicates the problem is not new—it has been around for a while."
"So, what's your action plan for the survey?" Tom asked.
"I thought of spending some time further analyzing this data, looking at differences among groups, and trying to pinpoint which are the most troubled areas. But in my experience, employees are unhappy as a consequence, not as a cause. I'd like to pursue the causes, rather than analyze the consequences. My guess is that if we figure out and fix what's wrong in the other three problem areas, this one will fall into place on its own. What do you think?
"I agree," Tom said, "let's consider this a secondary issue."
Steve nodded thoughtfully.
"Proceeding to number four and the most troublesome one, the drone safety concerns. This one, well, is extremely risky to dig into."
"Why?" Steve asked.
"I can't go around and measure the reliability and safety parameters of the products. I can't even assess the quality of the software products they install, well, that maybe I could, but the physical quality of the products is out of my reach. I can't go around asking questions either." Her voice reached a higher pitch, reflecting her anguish.
"Take it easy," Tom said, in his calming voice, "don't think what you cannot do. Don't think impossible, make shopping lists. Don't think obstacles, think needs."
"Needs?"
"If I were to ask you to dig a sixty-feet long, three feet deep, two feet wide ditch in front of this building, before end of business today, what would you say? Can it be done?"
"Um . . . sure, but I need workers, shovels, excavators, power tools—"
"Yes, these are the needs. The resources needed to complete the task. Think resources; don't think it can't be done. If you take the complex task you have on hand and break it down into simpler, smaller tasks, then get resources for each task, you're home free. So, what do you need?"
Alex thought about it for a little while, her gaze out the window, at the perfectly blue sky. It felt good to construct the list, the feeling of frustrating powerlessness fading away, giving place to her relentless initiative and courage.
"I'd need to be in a job that has access to their servers. A technology assignment would work great. I'd need access to all their facilities, maybe tour the plant at least once or twice. Maybe launch a technology initiative that involves the plant, especially the metrics they use to measure the business, including quality outputs." She smiled mischievously.
"I'd need some freedom of movement, from corporate to plant and back. I'd need exposure to what Dr. Barnaby tells his executives, so I guess this translates as access to leadership meetings, even if it's on tape, after the fact. I'd need the use of a lab, outside of the office, that can run quick tests for me, both physical and software." She paused to catch her breath, saw the empty cup in front of her, and continued. "Oh, and I need a cup of coffee, real bad."
"Thought you'd never ask," Steve said, standing up with his empty cup in his hand, grabbing hers, and turning toward Tom. "Anything for you?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you." Tom opened a folder and examined an organizational chart with several spots circled in red marker. Steve came back, carrying two steaming cups of fresh coffee.
"There happens to be a suitable opening at NanoLance," Tom said, pushing the organizational chart in front of Alex and Steve, "one that would fulfill most of Alex's needs. It's the director of infrastructure and support."
Alex struggled to contain a smile. Wow, she thought, my first executive role.
"There are several advantages to this position," Tom continued, undisturbed, "mainly the fact that the role is already open, and Dr. Barnaby doesn't have to interject and create it. This role reports into the chief technology officer, Dustin Sheppard, one of your least favorites, Alex."
"I'll manage," Alex said, smile gone, replaced by a sense of doom.
"The role doesn't bring the freedom of movement between corporate and plant that you require, but this is where Dr. Barnaby can help. We will ask him to become more involved in the hiring and termination of executives and, as part of their onboarding process, to allow all new executives to spend time in all critical areas of the business, plant included. This can be easily done." Tom looked at Steve and asked, "Anything else you'd like to add?"
"Yes," Steve said. "Alex, we'd have to get you prepared to interview and get the offer for this role, ideally without any intervention from Dr. Barnaby. I'd like the two of us, and maybe Brian if he can find the time, to train you some more, offer some insights into leadership in companies as large as this one, and give you some more books to read. We have a couple of weeks, but not more. You do realize how pressed for time we are on this case. However, before anything else I'd like to know how you feel, Alex. Are you ready for this?"
"I am. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared a little bit, but I'm also excited to go in and find out what's going on. I love a good mystery, love the challenge."
Tom nodded, with an encouraging smile. "I was counting on your enthusiasm," he said, "and I am sure you will get to the bottom of this faster than any of us could. Tomorrow you'll be working with one of the best résumé writers I have encountered—my wife, Claire. She will write a résumé guaranteed to get you an interview for this job. The rest will be up to you, and you'll do just fine, I'm sure of it. But, before we proceed with this client, do keep one thing in mind, at all times."
Tom's voice turned grave, as he continued. "The issues you will be investigating are serious. One is a potential major fraud, the other one has a potential connection to the recent drone incident that led to the loss of innocent lives. The person or persons responsible will have a lot to lose if they are exposed. Be very careful."
...26
...Friday, June 11, 8:55AM
...NanoLance HQ—Human Resources Floor
...San Diego, California
Starting a new job usually brought Alex a mixture of excitement and energy, fueled by her hopes that the new opportunity would propel her career, while she would be recognized and appreciated for her hard work. Starting fresh, with her innate optimism, was a sure recipe for exhilaration, not shadowed by any self-doubt, or fear of the unknown.
This time was different though. The excitement of entering a new organization, dimmed by a cautious, rational alertness, was barely surfacing. Alex had to make a conscious effort to show the full-blast enthusiasm of any new hire—especially a younger one. Focused on the image she was presenting to those around her, she had barely noticed the imposing building that housed NanoLance headquarters.
She approached the high-rise office building in a state of growing vigilance, not paying much attention to the sun's reflections off the turquoise glass of the upper floors. The reception area, wide open, was flooded in sunlight reflected by shiny blue-gray tiles. The gleaming tiles forced Alex to focus on keeping her balance, while walking on the slippery floor.
Oh, yes, she thought, the ultimate form of discrimination in the workplace . . . expect women to wear high heels, then shine these darn floors until we can't move anymore. She approached the reception desk and gave a quick sigh before stating her name. The massive piece of furniture provided some relief in her efforts to maintain her balance on the gleaming floors. She gladly leaned against the desk.
"Miss Hoffmann?" a voice from behind her asked.
She turned to find a young, neatly dressed woman holding a clipboard and a file folder, with her hand extended in her direction. "Yes," she replied, shaking the hand offered to her, "I am Alex Hoffmann, nice to meet you."
"I am Kathleen Bentley from human resources, nice to meet
you too. Please follow me."
Kathleen led the way down a wide corridor to a conference room. Alex followed closely, noticing the flooring was different. Carpeting. Yes, I like carpeting, she thought, straightening her posture, regaining her confidence.
She sat down at a conference table, across from Kathleen, whose smile seemed to be permanent, without variation, the typical professional smile that people-facing employees develop as a second nature and wear without any effort.
"Alex, please let me start by welcoming you to NanoLance. We are excited to have you here. A professional of your caliber will bring significant strength to our technology team, and we have all been looking forward to your start date."
"Thank you, I am excited to be here," Alex said. "I was happy to hear that you wanted me to come to work a day earlier."
"Yes, indeed," Kathleen explained, "we like to get the human resources paperwork and orientation out of the way, so on Monday you can hit the ground running, in a manner of speaking."
"OK, this is great!" She refrained from commenting on how unusual this practice was.
"Good, then let's start by filling out these forms," Kathleen said, pushing in front of her an open folder with paperwork in both pockets. "On the right side, you have tax forms, non-disclosure, non-compete, and emergency contact forms. On the left, you have benefits enrollment forms. All these need to be filled out and signed before we can proceed. I'll give you a few minutes," she said, promptly leaving the room and closing the door behind her.
Twenty minutes later, as Alex was just putting her pen down, Kathleen entered the conference room, wearing the same unaltered smile. "Are we ready? Great! Let's go for a tour," she said, showing Alex the way toward the slippery lobby, where the elevators were taking turns at loading and unloading hurried people.
They entered a luxurious elevator, complete with a flat screen TV showing the news and the stock-market ticker. On the back wall of the elevator, a mirror reflected Alex's image. She was dressed sharply in a Jones New York charcoal business suit, white satin shirt, completed by Gucci shoes and a briefcase. She smiled back at her reflection, proud of the image she presented, and reassured she looked her part.
"We're going to start at the top and work our way down," Kathleen said, pressing the top button, number 35. "At the very top, we have the executive floor, where Dr. Barnaby, our CEO, has his office. Also on 35, we have the boardroom and the offices of all the senior executives. Moira, Dr. Barnaby's executive assistant, also has her office here." The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open to reveal a quiet, lushly decorated floor, with thick carpets and massive furniture. The floor seemed deserted.
"Not a whole lot of activity here," Alex said. "Where is everyone? I was hoping to meet them."
"Oh, Dr. Barnaby is at the plant in Alpine today, and the senior leaders usually prefer to work from their secondary offices on the respective floors they manage, so this is quiet here most of the time. However, I think that you'll be able to meet most of the leaders today. I know Mr. Sheppard, your new boss, is in his downstairs office, waiting to meet with you."
After briefly touring the semi-dark floor, they headed for the elevators. One by one, Alex toured the human resources department, followed by finance, accounting, payroll, administration, purchasing, vendor management, manufacturing, marketing, and sales. Everywhere they went, Kathleen introduced her to countless, smiling people who shook her hand, welcomed her, and then resumed their activities.
No senior executives, in any of the business areas, were available to meet her. All departments seemed to operate quietly and effectively, without visible leadership, in a low-key hum of orchestrated activity. Alex was trying her best to remember as many of the faces, names, and job titles as she could. After a while though, they started to blend in her overloaded memory. How will I remember everyone?
"And, finally, this is your home," Kathleen said, leading her to the third floor. "This is where information technology resides." She paused for a second, took a quick breath, and then said in a quick whisper, "Good luck."
Kathleen led the way to an impressive office of glass walls. Facing away from them and looking out the window, a tall, bald man, dressed in black from head to toe, was talking on his cell phone. Kathleen opened the office door, alerting him to their presence. He turned, mumbled something in his cell phone, and then put it on his desk.
"Finally," he said, "you've made it, only twenty minutes late." His voice was a quiet, hissing whisper, conveying the paralyzing coldness of a snake.
Alex started explaining. "Sir, I was here—"
"Of course, you would have some excuse, no doubt," the man continued unabated, "of which I do not wish to learn. Sit," he said, pointing at the chair in front of his massive desk. He turned his attention toward Kathleen, who remained frozen in the doorway. "Anything I can do for you?"
Stammering an inaudible apology, Kathleen left hurriedly, closing the door behind her.
The man refocused his attention on Alex. "I am supposed to wish you welcome on a day like this." He paused, studying her.
Alex felt the sweat breaking at the roots of her hair. She remembered Dustin Sheppard from her interview—the interview she thought she had failed. She remembered how she got her courage up, after getting the job offer, thinking he couldn't possibly be that bad on a daily basis. She had been wrong.
"We'll have to see about that welcome," Sheppard continued. "Directors come and go, proving they are nothing but a waste of my time," he said, pausing slightly between words, as to emphasize them without raising his voice from that low hiss of a deadly snake. "I do not welcome any waste of my time. How will you be any different?"
She took a deep breath, remembering what she had to do.
"I am positive I can make a big difference and bring consistent value to the business. I have—"
"Don't waste my time," Sheppard interrupted again, "please tell me specifics." The venom in his voice removed all the politeness of the words he spoke.
"I am planning to start by evaluating current resources, capabilities, and infrastructure, and assess whether they are suited for the objectives that we have, for our short- and long-term future. Then I'll prepare recommendations for you to review." She paused, waiting for Sheppard's response, which did not come. Sheppard sat in his massive leather chair, eyes half closed, with an impenetrable expression on his face. His features, although elegant and harmonious, seemed carved in stone—cold and immobile.
She continued, repressing a shudder. "I would like to meet my team as soon as possible. I am planning to assess their skill levels and capabilities and prepare action items regarding staffing, again, for your review."
"If I would have had any interest to hire an assistant to prepare things for my review, I would have hired that person instead of you. From you, I am expecting results."
"Yes, sir, I understand."
"That's it for today."
Alex stood up abruptly. "It was a pleasure seeing you again," she said, extending her hand.
Sheppard did not move. "I doubt that. You are dismissed."
...27
...Friday, June 11, 11:49AM
...NanoLance HQ—Visitor Parking Lot
...San Diego, California
Alex did not recall how she got to her car, still under the influence of the intimidating Dustin Sheppard, her new boss. She sat behind the wheel, in the refreshing streams of conditioned air, trying to focus on her busy agenda for the weekend—moving into a new home, her first house. A long-time dream was coming true—getting out of apartment living and into the delights of suburban living. But somehow, she failed to feel the excitement.
Her prevailing thoughts were lingering around the strangeness of NanoLance's corporate culture. She had spent less than three hours in that building, enough though to notice a few troublesome signs of dysfunction. The notable absence of key executives was one example. The climate of fear fostered by Sheppard, without any apparent consequence or corrective measure, was
another. The peculiarity of having new employees come to finalize paperwork on the Friday before their start date was unheard of. The overall weirdness of the building's atmosphere, regardless of department, was, by far, the most annoying and intriguing.
Leaning back in her car seat, Alex pictured Tom asking her, "Weird how, exactly?" She began a mental conversation with Tom, organizing her thoughts and drawing some conclusions, while her memories of the NanoLance tour were still fresh. Well, the absence of laughter, of relaxed human interaction was one aspect of it, especially considering that the key executives were absent and it was Friday, casual chatter should have been present here and there.
The overall feel was one of silent efficiency, which, at first glance, might seem ideal for a business environment, but it's not. In the realities of human psychology, such environments are not naturally occurring; there has to be a stressor of sorts to yield this kind of silent efficiency. She pictured Dr. Barnaby being the stressor . . . Nah . . . She rejected the thought as not plausible. She saw Dr. Barnaby more likely to engage in casual conversations with his employees, than obliterating the normal hallway interactions.
One look at the time and she started the engine, knowing she was going to be late for the appointment with her new landlord. Preoccupied with solving the mysteries of this odd corporate culture, she pulled out of the parking lot and into the solid traffic heading for I-5, oblivious to her surroundings. A few seconds later, a gray Ford sedan pulled out of the same parking lot, following her from a safe distance.
...28
...Friday, June 11, 6:00PM
...Money Markets Review Newscast
...Nationally Syndicated