by Alex Schuler
“And how many crashes did you have?” David asked.
“None,” Ted replied.
“Bullshit,” Brad said. “There’s no way you didn’t have any accidents with that many tests.”
“We had some issues,” Sam said. Her voice was elevated but calm as she tried to regain control of the conversation. She feared the discussion was becoming too heated. She shot Ted a look she knew he would understand. He needed to dial it back. “They were all minor. Our biggest was a deer that clipped the car. We never crashed. No injuries. No lives lost. The car never went wild, losing control.”
“I remember hearing about some spectacular crashes at DARPA,” David said.
“With all due respect, that was almost six years go.” Sam took a moment to look each attendee from Detroit in the eye. At least those who were paying attention. “The systems we have today are lightyears beyond what we had back then. We ran countless simulations before we started a single real-world test. The technology works.”
Sam’s eyes settled on David’s. She felt like he had positioned himself as the alpha male in the room. Perhaps if she could win him over, the others would fall into line. Unfortunately, David showed the same look of contempt he’d had all day. In fact, it was the same look he’d had when she and Ted gave their first presentation to him at the Renaissance Center in Detroit in 2007. Sam broke her gaze and pivoted to Vin for help.
“Let’s talk about the future,” Vin said, his voice upbeat. “We’ll give you copies of our test criteria and results to view on your own time. Sam, can you jump ahead to how we see our technology working in the vehicles of tomorrow?”
Several Detroit executives took this opportunity to grab some coffee and snacks. Two left the room to use the facilities, and three others to make phone calls.
Sam skipped through three dozen screens that documented their ten challenges. With each keyboard click, her heart sank. She tried to ignore the months the team had spent pulling this valuable information together, only to have it all brushed aside. She shot Ted a glance, hoping to get some emotional support or encouragement. Instead, she found him trying, and failing, to twirl his pen across his thumb and fingers. The screen on the wall settled on the slide she was looking for, titled Courier in the Car. She glanced around the room to see several people still getting coffee but decided not to wait for them to return to their seats.
“As you saw during the test drive, and earlier in the presentation, our sensor array gives us a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view around the car.” She felt her confidence begin to return as she found herself back on familiar ground. “We can see everything from an inch to hundreds of yards away.” She clicked the slide ahead to show various pictures of the equipment attached to the Prius. “You’ll notice that we’ve been able to integrate some of the smaller sensors quite easily. Others, such as Ted’s brilliant spinning lidar array, we’ve reduced in size by fifty percent from when we first started. We’ve already adapted our technology to two other test cars, giving us a total of three autonomous vehicles. The technology can be replicated and installed easily, given advancements in drive-by-wire systems. Let me pause here and see if there are any questions.”
Robert Anderson raised his hand.
“Yes?” she asked, hoping for an intelligent question.
“Where’s the restroom?” Robert asked. The tall, slim man stood up and slid his phone into his pocket.
“Oh, I can show you,” Ralph said. He rolled his chair back and made his way past Lori, patting her reassuringly on her shoulders. Once at the back door, he held it open for Robert. Ralph turned toward Sam and feigned screaming in terror, then rolled his eyes and followed the Chrysler executive into the hallway.
“This is where we see great potential with a partnership,” Sam continued. “We have the technology. You have the vehicles. Together we can find a way to integrate and downsize our equipment. It should be both seamless and visually appealing. We will also want to integrate this with your in-car display systems.”
“You call that appealing?” Brad asked as he pointed at the image of Leapfrog. “There’s no way we’d put anything remotely close to that on a Lincoln. I don’t care how much you shrink it down. Nobody would buy one.”
“Really, Brad?” David interjected. “The last time I checked, nobody was buying your Navigator. Maybe a wart on the roof would give it some sizzle.”
Brad was about to respond when Ted stood up and leaned forward, and as Sam noted, he was poised to get on a soapbox. She raised her hand to get his attention, but it was too late.
“Why are you being so shortsighted?” he asked, darting his gaze between Brad and David. “Lincoln sales have declined over the past twenty-five years. Compare that to what Mercedes and BMW have done.” Ted noticed David chuckle. “And Caddy is just as bad. All of you have lost ground to Germany and Japan.”
“Ted, I think—” Sam attempted to take control of the discussion, but he ignored her.
“Remember when Lexus came out of nowhere?” he asked. Sam shot him a look of disapproval. He understood her concern, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “Mercedes didn’t know what hit them. Why? Lexus offered a better product with better technology at a better price. Toyota did the same thing with the Prius hybrid. They were the first and continue to be the leaders.”
“We’ve got the Volt now,” David said. “It’s better than a Prius.”
“Is it?” Ted asked. “Time will tell.”
Vin reached over and gently took Ted by the elbow, guiding him back to his seat.
“The point I believe Ted is trying to make is that disruptive technology can have a big impact on industry leaders,” Vin said. “The Prius is a great example of that. That first generation was a homely little car. But Toyota proved its hybrid system could work. They lost money at first. My guess is GM is losing money on these early Volts. Correct, David?”
David leaned back and folded his arms, refusing to answer.
“We believe this technology to be a game-changer,” Sam said. She smiled and nodded toward Vin. “Someone will be first with it. Will it look a bit odd? Perhaps. That’s something we believe we can partner on. Will it be expensive? Yes, but those costs will come down over time. In order for this to come to market, we need to work together.”
She surveyed the room but saw little interest on the faces of the men in suits. She was surprised to see Matthew slumped in his chair, looking defeated. He’d been so upbeat during the tour and test drives. The door opened, and Robert and Ralph returned. They both stopped a few feet into the room. Ralph looked at Sam and shrugged, confused by how quiet the room was.
“What did I miss?” Robert asked as he took his seat.
“Don’t ask,” David replied.
“I see your point, Sam,” Brad said. “Being first can be expensive, but long term, you have the potential to be the leader. You can make a name for yourself. Prius is synonymous with hybrid technology and efficiency. That car and name have put a green shine on Toyota.”
“Exactly!” Sam was thrilled they were finally getting a positive response.
“In your testing, you indicated the driver could take over at any time,” Brad continued. “If we can adapt this to be an advanced cruise control and get rid of that shit you have all over the roof, then we might have something.”
“Sort of like a super cruise control?” David asked. “Interesting.”
“No,” Sam said. “That’s not what we’re talking about. Our testing showed a direct correlation between self-driving capabilities and driver reaction times. Meaning the smarter and more accurate the autonomy was, the longer it took for the driver to regain control in an emergency. The driver always got too comfortable thinking the AI system was in charge. We don’t want to go in that direction.”
“So, then, this is all a waste?” Robert asked, picking at patches of dry skin at
the end of his nose. “Who would want a high-tech cruise control if the handoff to the driver is poor?”
“We aren’t talking about cruise control!” Sam struggled to keep her composure. “The goal is full autonomy.”
“This is the same pitch you made back in 2007.” David removed his thick-beveled eyeglasses and tossed them onto the table, taking a moment to rub his eyes. He turned to Matthew and said, “When you invited us to come here, I told you I was skeptical. We all were. You said you’d taken the DARPA technology to an entirely new level.”
“And we have,” Matthew replied. He glanced back and forth between each of the three Detroit lead executives. “Surely, you have to see the potential.”
“The potential?” David said. “Possibly. The technology has been fine-tuned and streamlined compared to those monsters that roamed the Mojave Desert. But this isn’t ready for primetime. Not by a longshot. I agree with Brad. Re-engineer this to be something we can integrate into the vehicle, so it’s not so ugly. But dial back the cruise feature to better alert the driver. Full self-driving isn’t an option.”
“I must disagree with you.” Sam began to flip through her presentation, looking for a slide she’d prepared to address this very issue. “Give me a moment, please.”
“Gentlemen, I’m not sure we’re on the same page,” Matthew said. “Our goal is to reinvent the concept of transportation as it exists today. We aren’t looking to dumb down our technology to make a better cruise control system. This is full-blown autonomy—taxis without drivers. Delivery trucks automated to move packages between facilities. The possibilities are endless. As Sam stated, this technology will be a disruptor. Whoever brings it to market first will be the one to lead the way. GSI doesn’t know how to build cars, but—”
“And you never will,” David said.
Matthew opened his mouth to continue to speak, but instead, let out a sigh. He shook his head in disappointment and leaned back in his chair.
“Tell that to Tesla,” Ted said. His voice was much calmer now. “Back in 2007, you laughed them off as a toy car filled with laptop batteries. Now they have a gorgeous five-passenger vehicle with over four-hundred horsepower that can hit sixty in under four seconds—all of it without an engine. And they’re only getting started.”
“Try driving across the country in one,” Brad said as he scratched at his beard. “Or towing a boat. Tesla has no clue what they’re doing. They won’t last.”
“Brad’s right. Besides, the country would never trust cars to drive themselves. There are already too many rules and regulations in place for human drivers. How would the insurance industry work? Who does the cop write the ticket to? A robot? Removing people from the equation raises too many issues. I don’t think you’ve really thought this through.”
“Similar arguments were made about ATMs,” Sam said. “Who’d want to go to a machine for money? You can’t talk to it if you have a problem. ATMs are everywhere now. Technology advances, whether we like it or not.” She noticed Robert was heads-down typing on his phone. “Do you remember the first cell phone? It was the size of a brick. If someone told you back then that one day that phone would not only fit in your pocket, but would also let you send emails, would you have believed them? Or would you have laughed them off and told them they were crazy?”
“That’s different,” Robert said, taking offense at Sam appearing to target him. “You’re not talking about scaling down the size of some hardware. You’re talking about changing the very nature of driving and vehicle transportation.”
“I agree,” David said. “We don’t invest in pipe dreams. Find a way to get that crap off the roof. Maybe integrate it behind the front grill. Make it invisible. Do that, and we can talk about doing an advanced cruise control system. That’s all I see here.”
Brad and Robert nodded in agreement.
“Again, gentlemen, we haven’t built an advanced cruise control system,” Matthew said. He stood up and walked to the front of the room, taking a position beside Sam. He turned and pointed at the image of Leapfrog on the screen. “We’ve invested years proving full autonomy is possible. Just because we can’t build cars doesn’t mean this technology isn’t the future. Progress this disruptive cannot be stopped. There’s no going back. Partner with us, and together we can change the world.”
“I’m sorry, Matthew, but despite what you’ve shown us today, I must disagree,” David said flatly. “Autonomy isn’t the future. At least not for us. Not now. There are too many risks.”
“Then I guess there’s nothing left to discuss,” Matthew said. He turned to Vin and frowned. “Can you please escort our guests back to their vehicles? We’re done.”
Sam looked over at Ted in complete shock. One by one, the executives from Detroit shuffled out of the conference room. She noticed that most even chose to leave behind their copies of the presentation she’d prepared. Ted joined her at the front of the room, feeling completely deflated.
“What do we do now?” she asked. “Where do we go from here?”
35
Ted rested his forehead against the window and stared out across the parking lot. Detroit’s rejection six months ago had left him shell-shocked and lost. After silently counting twenty Teslas, he stopped. It seemed like every week a new one showed up. Across the street, GSI had completed construction on the first half of the new solar-powered charging station. Another dozen plug-in vehicles, including Leafs and Volts, were quietly charging their lithium-ion batteries. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the music filling his head. His wireless headphones were playing “Desire” by U2, the song streaming from the iPhone tucked into the front pocket of his denim jeans. A tap on his shoulder broke his concentration. He turned around to find Ralph standing behind him. His arms were folded angrily across his chest.
“Hey,” Ted said, popping the headphones from his ears. He slid his hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone, muting the music. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” Ralph’s tone was peppered with nervous frustration. “You tell me. You’re late.”
“Oh. Right. The meeting.”
“Yes, the meeting. It’s already half over. You missed quite a bit.”
Ralph spun around and marched through the Crash and Convene areas toward the hallway with the conference rooms. Ted was in no rush. He took another look outside and wondered if he should submit to peer pressure and get a Tesla Model S. He decided, as he did every time he asked himself this question, that he loved the thrill of his BMW M6 too much to give it up. The M6 was not a practical car, as Sam often pointed out to him, especially now that he was married and had a stepdaughter. But driving his M6 was one of the few points of joy currently in his life, and he wasn’t about to give it up anytime soon.
Several co-workers were relaxing in the Crash area. A few were sunken low in the bean bag chairs. Two others were sitting at a high-top table, ignoring each other as they both tapped away at their Androids. Ted couldn’t help but notice how joyless the room felt. Christmas was only a few weeks away, but the mood everywhere was dour. He took minimal pleasure in knowing that he wasn’t the only one still depressed from Detroit’s rejection. Shortly after that disastrous meeting, Matthew and Vin had made several changes. Ted was part of those who disagreed with the company’s new direction.
He wove his way across the room and down the hallway. Each conference room was filled with different meetings. He realized he couldn’t remember which room Vin’s meeting was in and had to stare through the glass walls until he finally saw the room with Sam and Vin inside. They, along with several others, including Lori and Ralph, were in the KITT conference room, named after the self-driving car from the 1980s television show Knight Rider. Ted yanked the door open and stepped inside.
“Nice of you to join us,” Vin said, pointing to an empty chair beside Sam. Ted opted to take a seat at the back of the room, close to the exit. “Just to ca
tch you up, Ted, Matthew has signed off on building the LSV. We’re going through the details and next steps.”
Ted stared blankly at the screen behind Vin. A bulbous pod-shaped car was prominently on display. The picture was a conceptual image, designed on a computer by someone from Sam’s team. Ted thought it looked similar to a Volkswagen Beetle but much smaller and with none of the whimsical charm of that classic design.
“I also announced the LSV project lead.” Vin waved his arm toward Sam. “Say hello to your new boss, Ted.”
“What?” Ted darted his eyes between Vin and Sam. Vin seemed overly happy to break the news to him. Sam’s cheeks were flush with a nervous smile spread across her face. “When did that happen?”
“Matthew and I have been discussing this for a few weeks,” Vin said. “I told Sam just before the meeting.”
“I’m just as shocked as you, Ted,” Sam added.
Ted glanced around the room and felt all eyes on him. Since joining GSI, he and Sam had been equals—peers. In some ways, he wasn’t surprised that Vin picked Sam over him. They had a long history together at Ashton, and the two were in lockstep when it came to project planning.
“It’s . . . it’s a dotted line report,” she said. “Just for the project. I’m not technically your boss.”
“But Sam will drive the project.” Vin smiled and nodded. “She will set the pace, milestones, and have overall project planning authority.”
Ted could feel the veins in his temples throbbing. He wondered how much she would dictate how he ran his hardware team, and how Vin’s excessive red tape would further slow the project down, just as it had with the ten challenges. He had a long list of questions, but realized this was not a good time to raise them. Part of him wondered if his concerns even mattered.
Vin waited to see if Ted would say anything. When he didn’t, Vin moved to the next slide. The header read, Low Speed Vehicle. Beneath the title was a series of bullets outlining the target capabilities for the vehicle the team would be designing.