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by Alex Schuler


  “So, what will you do if Ford waves a bunch of money at you to come work for them?”

  “There are ways to work with the auto companies that don’t involve relocating here. I always thought I would stay at Ashton, working with Vin on continuing to develop and refine the technology. Vin and I talked about a possible partnership with one of the auto companies. Maybe even one of their suppliers. This technology is still new, Ted. It’s not ready for prime time.”

  “Look, Sam, we need to be united when we present to the executives this week.”

  “We will be. We both believe in what autonomy can and will do for the transportation industry. The presentation we are making is about the technology and what it offers. We agreed that we weren’t going to go in and tell them how to do their jobs.”

  “I know.”

  “And we certainly aren’t going to tell them to hire us. That’s not in our presentation.”

  “I know, Sam. I just assumed once they heard what we had to say, they’d want to hire us.”

  “Maybe it will lead to that, Ted. Remember, this needs to be an organic process. A conversation. This week is about starting the discussion.”

  He grinned and pulled her into his arms. She slowly received his embrace and held him close.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “My sweet little tortoise.” He chuckled and kissed her gently on her cheek. “So methodical.”

  “Always.”

  ***

  They had opted to stay at a Holiday Inn outside Royal Oak, a central location for their Dearborn, Auburn Hills, and Detroit meetings. At Sam’s insistence, Ted had booked separate rooms, but he made sure they were adjoining. Ted was alone in his room, flopped on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of blue checkered boxers and a white T-shirt. He was staring at a PowerPoint presentation on his laptop. The time was just past 10:00 p.m. His eyes burned from the hours he and Sam had spent refining and rehearsing the material.

  He sighed as he scanned through a scribbled set of notes. His fried brain was full. He walked over to a brown bag resting on the nightstand. Rustling through it, he pulled out pajama pants, put them on, grabbed two glasses, and removed the bottle of Chivas Regal whisky from the bag.

  “You awake?” Ted asked as he knocked on the door that connected their two rooms. After a few moments, the door opened a crack, and Sam stuck her face in the opening. “Hi,” he said.

  “It’s late, Ted,” she said. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow. It’s our final shot.”

  “I know.” He held the bottle and glasses up and smiled. “A toast to our success?”

  “Uh, aren’t you being a bit premature? So far, we’ve struck out.”

  She opened the door and motioned for him to come in. He was struck at how beautiful she looked in her full-length, mint-green silk robe as she crossed the room. He closed the door behind him and put the bottle and glasses on the bureau. Sam’s laptop was open and resting on her bed.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one with last-minute jitters,” he said, pointing to her computer and smiling. “The presentation’s solid, Sam.”

  “Are you sure?” She shuffled over to her bed and sat beside her laptop. “I . . . I think we need to soften our delivery a bit.”

  “That’s why you’re taking the lead tomorrow. You said it yourself. I can be a bit too pushy.”

  “Well, you can.” She laughed but remained focused on her computer. Ted cracked the whisky’s cap open. When Sam heard it she looked up and said, “None for me.”

  He frowned and debated pouring himself a glass. He decided not to and walked over and sat on the opposite side of the laptop. After studying the screen for a few seconds, he dragged the computer away and slid closer to Sam.

  “You’ll do great tomorrow.” He took her hand in his and began to massage her fingers. “Even if they reject us, we both know what the future holds.”

  “We do?” She stared longingly into his deep blue eyes. “You’re, uh, talking about autonomy. AI?”

  “That.” He pulled her hand to his face and kissed her fingers. “And more.”

  She pulled her hand away and lowered her head. She paused a moment, then said, “I told you we should keep this professional.”

  “So, you don’t have feelings for me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “So, you do have feelings for me.” He waited momentarily to see if she would respond. “Good, because I have feelings for you, Sam. Ever since DARPA. I thought we had something there. I can feel it again now. Can’t you?”

  “I . . . I do, too, Ted. It’s just . . .”

  “Talk to me.”

  “I . . . I can’t look that far ahead.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?” He slid closer and put his arm around her. She rolled her head against his chest and sighed. He asked, “What are you afraid of?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. It’s been so long.”

  “Same for me.” He gently took her chin and tilted her head until their eyes were locked. “I’m falling for you, Sam Lavoie. You challenge me. You inspire me. I . . . I want . . . more.”

  He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. She responded, and soon their embrace and affection became intensely passionate. As they fell back on the bed, she propped herself up on an elbow and said, “If we cross this line–”

  “I know.” He ran his fingers through her long flowing hair and smiled. “There’s no going back. Trust me, Sam. Trust me.”

  ***

  The Renaissance Center, built in 1977, served, in part, as the world headquarters for General Motors. The complex situated along the river separating the United States from Canada included a total of seven buildings. The central tower served as a Marriott hotel. GM was one of several companies who had offices here.

  The administrative assistant Ted and Sam had worked with to book the meeting with GM had not bothered to give them instructions on where to park, so they picked a public lot a couple of blocks from the complex.

  The temperature was in the upper forties, and the wind gusting in from the river was damp and bitterly cold. Ted kept Sam close to his side as they reached the corner of Randolph Street and East Jefferson Avenue. Ten lanes of traffic, divided by a large island, stood between them and their destination.

  “Wow.” Sam squinted her eyes, tear-filled from the wind slicing across her face. She looked up to the top of the central tower. “That’s impressive.”

  “Wait until you see inside. I brought us early so we could do a little tour before going upstairs.”

  “I hope today goes better than the last two. This weather sure isn’t a good sign.”

  “Ford is being too shortsighted. And Chrysler seems to be spiraling into bankruptcy. I have a good feeling about GM.”

  “I hope you’re right. So far, this week has been a bust. Do you think our presentation is off?”

  “The presentation is great. You’re great. It’s the idiots that have been sitting across from us that have been the problem.” He kissed her cheek. “Whatever happens today, I’m just happy to be here with you. Last night was pretty special.”

  “Can we not talk about this right now?”

  “Are you having regrets?” He took a step back and slid a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up. “I haven’t been with many women, Sam.”

  “I know, Ted. Like I told you last night, you’re the first man I’ve been with since having Dani. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check for now, okay? Let’s get through today. Then we can talk.”

  “Of course.” He smiled and kissed her gently on her lips. “One step at a time.”

  It took several minutes for them to reach the entrance to the Renaissance Center. Once inside, Ted led Sam to the GM Pavilion where they were greeted with an exhibition showcasing GM’s history—from classics to current production models
to concept cars. Over a dozen vehicles were spread out on multiple levels, each in pristine condition. Plaques displayed on posts in front of each vehicle gave the specs and history of each.

  Ted immediately made his way over to a twentieth anniversary Turbo 1989 Pontiac Trans Am. To celebrate the car’s twentieth year of production, GM replaced the V-8 engine with a turbocharged 3.8-liter V-6 borrowed from corporate cousin Buick. Paired to a four-speed automatic, Pontiac made only fifteen hundred of the cars, with the hope they would one day become collector’s items.

  “I was seven years old when this came out.” Ted could not stop grinning as he took in the sleek lines of the pony car. “I had pictures of this plastered to my bedroom wall. Did you know that Pontiac had to subcontract the engine modifications out to a third party to make it fit under the hood?”

  He looked over his shoulder expecting to see Sam, but she was nowhere in sight. He spun around to look for her. “Sam?” Where did she go? he thought as he began frantically searching. He stopped when he spotted her behind a big sign on the far side of the room next to two vehicles.

  “What do you see?” he asked once he got to her side.

  “This is incredible.” She ran her fingers across the plaque in front of the two concept vehicles. “They did these five years ago. I had no idea.”

  The Hy-Wire and Autonomy concepts were GM’s foray into a future of alternative fueled vehicles and a new way to design and build cars. Because they were only concept cars, though, they were never built with production in mind. Rather, they were made to test the waters of public reception. The 2002 Autonomy concept had what GM had dubbed the skateboard chassis, so named because of the four wheels connected to a large, long, six-inch-thick platform that housed everything needed to power and control the wheels, including a fuel cell powertrain. The design would simplify construction and lower costs.

  A year later, GM built the Hy-Wire as an example of what a vehicle riding on top of the Autonomy chassis would look like. The sleek silver four-door was completely drivable, and GM allowed a good number of car experts to take it for a test drive to get their feedback.

  “It’s not self-driving, but it’s all drive-by-wire.” Ted knelt to get a closer look at the skateboard chassis. It wasn’t a simple metal brick. The skateboard had an organic shape as it curved to meet each wheel. “I think they were trying to out-Prius Toyota by looking into fuel cells and electrification.”

  “I don’t understand—what makes it autonomous? You said it’s not self-driving. Why the name?”

  “It has to do with the skateboard design. You could, in theory, drop any type of vehicle on top of the chassis. It could be a sedan, hatchback, or van. That makes the chassis autonomous from the vehicle class, if that makes sense.”

  “Of course. Ted, this shows they can be forward-thinking. We need to find a way to weave this into the discussion today. Imagine our self-driving tech on this type of platform? They have to see the possibilities.”

  “I hope so. We need a win after bombing at Ford and Chrysler.”

  “I feel good about this, Ted. I really do. Just don’t lose your cool again like you did yesterday.”

  “I’ll do my best, Sam.”

  “Follow my lead.”

  “Of course, my calm turtle.” He pulled her close and kissed her on her head.

  “Remember, this is a process.” She ran her fingernails through his hair, combing it back away from his face. “We need to get them on board today. That’s our goal. Everything else is secondary.”

  “You’re in charge.”

  She smiled and picked strands of lint from Ted’s navy suit. She adjusted his red and blue pinstriped tie and said, “You clean up nicely, Ted. Now let’s go show them the future.”

  ***

  Sam found it difficult to focus on the meeting. The view from the thirtieth floor was gorgeous. Despite the cold temperatures and gusty winds, the clouds were few and far between. Visibility was clear, and from the massive windows one could see across the river to the city of Windsor and beyond. She kept a smile on her face as she listened to Ted go through the final set of slides. Deep inside, however, she knew they had failed to connect with the three men at the far end of the room.

  Two of them had arrived ten minutes after the meeting had started, without bothering to introduce themselves. They’d also remained silent during the entire presentation. The only one who had spoken was David Foster, vice president of product development for GM. His attitude throughout the whole meeting had been condescending and dismissive. The stocky, barrel-chested man did his best to contain his expanding waistline by wearing a dark gray wool suit and an overly long, narrow, bright red tie. His shirt, one size too small, clung tightly to his neckline. When he spoke, the veins along his throat throbbed as they pulled precariously at the top button of his collar.

  “You still haven’t given me one good reason to believe any of what you’ve shown so far is worth GM’s investment.” David glanced at the hard copy of the presentation Sam had provided at the start of the meeting. He flipped back a few pages and frowned. “This has been a complete waste of our time. Your hour is almost up. I suggest you wrap this up.”

  For the first time since arriving in Michigan, Sam felt awash in anger. She did her best during the Ford and Chrysler meetings to remain polite and respectful, trying to listen and understand everyone’s points of view. Perhaps it was the weather. Perhaps it was the long nights. Perhaps it was her confusion over what to do about her growing feelings for Ted. Whatever the reason, she’d had enough.

  “Not one good reason?” She slid her chair sideways, pushing Ted to the side. Their presentation was displayed on a large screen at the end of the room. The current slide showed a graph with a twenty-year timeline that showed a rise in alternative fuel vehicles, a rise in autonomous vehicles, and a decline in personal car ownership. “There are three staring you in the face.”

  “I’m sorry, but what . . . what was your name?” David asked.

  “Sam.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam, but I simply disagree with your projections.”

  “These aren’t our studies. Ted explained that—”

  “Then I disagree with their projections.” David removed his thick glasses and tossed them onto the table. “These papers and projections you reference from these so-called industry experts are nothing but attempts to get attention. Go back to the seventies and the fuel shortage. Everyone predicted the end of large vehicles and the V-8 engine. Those all came roaring back, and better than ever.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you see the big picture.” She glanced over at Ted. She could tell he was shocked at how emboldened she’d become. “The future is coming. What we showed you today is the future of transportation.”

  “If you don’t believe us, look at your own history,” Ted said. “There was a time when seat belts were unheard of in a car. The same with airbags. Each decade sees the rise of new technology.”

  “Technology that people initially feared.” Sam stood up and took a breath to calm her nerves. “Antilock brakes were designed to improve safety and prevent accidents. They were met with a mix of awe and trepidation. Now they’re standard on every car built.”

  “You can thank the government bureaucrats for that,” David said. “Damn regulations. There is no way the government will mandate self-driving cars. Ever.”

  “That’s not what we’re proposing.” Ted tapped his laptop’s backspace key to go to a slide that listed the technological breakthroughs pioneered on Athena and Cyclops. “These systems are the antilock brakes of the future.”

  “You’re wrong,” David said.

  “Maybe if you’d been at DARPA, you would have felt differently,” Sam said.

  “I may not have been at that desert race, but Jeff was.” David pointed at the man sitting to his left. “He wasn’t impressed. Neither am I.”


  Sam waited to see if Jeff would chime in with his opinion, but the man never moved his gaze from the lovely view outside. Ted flipped open his notepad and started scanning through additional topics he and Sam had drafted last night, tapping his pen as he searched through the list nervously.

  “What about your competition?” Sam slowly reached over and took the pen from Ted’s hand and placed it out of reach. “What if they get there before you?”

  “Competition?” David chuckled, looked at Jeff, and rolled his eyes. “We don’t work in a bubble, young lady. I already spoke with Brad over at Ford. Bob too. They warned me about your pitch. I chose not to cancel out of common courtesy. We’re all in agreement this is a dead end.”

  “What about others?” Sam said. “New technology is going to disrupt the transportation industry.”

  “Are you planning to take this to Toyota?”

  “I was talking about competition from outside the established industry leads.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, look at Tesla.”

  “Tesla?” David burst out laughing, quickly followed by the other two gentlemen. “That company is nothing but a bunch of laptop batteries crammed into the back of a Lotus. Nothing more than a group of lefty tree huggers selling pipedreams to other lefty tree huggers. And before you start to lecture me about electric cars, let me remind you that GM made the EV-1. We invested a fortune in that battery-electric vehicle—money that never gave us a return on investment.”

  “We had a chart showing you the anticipated cost reduction of lithium-ion batteries over the next twenty-five years.” Sam’s voice and temper had calmed. She realized that, just like Ford and Chrysler, this was a losing battle. Ted’s stillness surprised her. “If Tesla doesn’t survive, someone else will step in to take their place.”

  “I’d like to see them try.” David leaned back in his chair, the seat groaning in protest. “Building cars isn’t easy. There’s an entire supply chain that needs to be in place. That’s why you don’t see new car companies popping up all the time. It’s just the opposite.”

 

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