Flash

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  "That's it exactly!" Methroy sounded relieved.

  "So you want me to add some sections explaining that ErrorOne is in fact just about the only target audience that fits the All-1 user profile; that in terms of profit generation, there are no other shows that will generate that sales return ... That sort of thing?"

  "I knew you'd understand."

  "It'll cost more," I pointed out. "That's not in the scope of the work you gave me."

  "I don't have any more budget, Jonat. And if the report doesn't impress the comptroller ... they'll cut back on all media operations, and that includes you."

  I laughed, although I didn't feel like laughing. "That's a form of blackmail."

  He—or his screen-improved image—shrugged. "You know it. I know it."

  "I can have you an amended report by Wednesday."

  "No later than noon. I have to meet with Fonroy first thing Thursday, and I'll need some time to go over it with my people."

  "I'll try to get it to you earlier, if I can."

  "Thanks. Knew I could count on you, Jonat."

  I smiled, until I was sure the link was gone.

  "Frigging miserable..." Words weren't sufficient.

  I stormed to the kitchen and fired up the electrokettle. I just hoped a mug of Grey tea would settle me. I'd hated incompetence in the Marines, and I hated it in the multis. I took a deep breath, then another. I had to remember that half my income came from that incompetence, because they needed someone to fix what they'd done, or to keep them from making more mistakes.

  One problem was that, because things had been slow, I'd underbid the PPI jobs anyway, especially in the beginning, and only slowly had I been able to increase the billings. Now I'd have to redo and retailor the whole report, and that meant I would be effectively taking a pay cut back to where I'd started, if not even lower.

  Doing the rewrite and restructuring wasn't the problem. I could certainly justify the results and costs, because PPI had the right prodplacement with the right show, and it was the only show that would get them that kind of notice and return. That was why the placement costs were high. I didn't have any idea what PPI's margins were on the All-1, and that part would have to be in generalities, but I could provide some comparatives.

  What upset me was having to do the same report twice, not because I'd made a mistake, but because some multi-exec didn't understand what he or she was doing and hadn't bothered to even try to understand. Then, that had been a problem since the days of the first multis, and why so many had failed over the years. PPI might just be another that had been successful but wouldn't be any longer because someone was trying to apply formulae and procedures blindly. I was also more angry than I might have been because I couldn't get out of my mind, not totally, that someone had tried to kill me.

  Once the kettle came to a boil, I filled the mug, letting the old-style tea bag brew for a bit, before I took it out, lifted the mug, and walked back to my office, trying not to blame Methroy for the idiocy of his superiors. Then, Methroy wasn't all that bright, either, but he'd had the sense to contract with me.

  I took a deep breath and called up the ErrorOne files.

  They'd barely projected when the gatekeeper announced, Safety Officer Menendez, Epaso Office.

  I didn't like that at all. Accept.

  Menendez was a not-quite-rotund safo with a thin pencil mustache. "Dr. Jonat deVrai?"

  "Yes? What can I do for you?"

  "You are not under any obligation, legal or otherwise, to answer any questions. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes."

  "We've been trying to track down people who might have had contact with some of the security personnel at the River Plaza. You were at the River Plaza on Friday?"

  Technically, I didn't have to answer any question like that. I smiled politely. "I was. Could you tell me the purpose of this link?"

  "We're trying to locate witnesses. Did you come in contact with security personnel?"

  "I did."

  "Would you mind explaining that contact?"

  I certainly would, but there wasn't much point in protesting, not yet. "I'm a consultant in media product placement. I was investigating the use of those techniques in a campaign setting. I'd attended three other Carlisimo rallies. When I entered the River Plaza, several security people stopped me and asked me why I'd been to so many rallies. I explained, and they let me enter."

  "Could you describe them?"

  "They wore black formfitting security gear, officer. I talked with them for perhaps a minute. I'd never seen any of them before, and I never saw them again. They could probably walk right up to me, and I wouldn't recognize any of them." And that was certainly true.

  "Why would they stop you?"

  "I'd guess, and it's only a guess, that they thought I might be doing some sort of opposition research. I wasn't. I was there for a professional study of the campaign's presentation techniques."

  "How is the study going?"

  "It's a comparative study. I'll be studying a number of campaigns, and it's likely to take several months."

  "Is this a paid project, doctor?"

  I laughed. "I can assure you, officer, that I would not have been in the West Tejas heat if I did not have a client paying for it."

  "It would be helpful to confirm that with the client."

  "I'm sure it would be, officer, but the project is confidential, and, frankly, my discretion is one of the reasons why I continue to get clients."

  Menendez frowned. "You didn't see those security personnel again?"

  "Not that I know of." That was also true. The ones I'd seen later were different. "But if they were out of uniform, I doubt I would have recognized them."

  "You didn't follow the campaign rallies after Epaso?"

  "No. I came back to Denv."

  "Will you be traveling back to West Tejas?"

  "I hadn't planned to. I'll have to travel to follow other campaigns, but I got enough information from the Carlisimo campaign." Since Clerihew hadn't announced any rallies, and had stated that his campaign would be person-to-person, it was unlikely I'd be headed back south. Menendez's interest made it even less likely.

  Menendez asked more questions, farther from the point I knew he wanted to get to, and I answered them for another half hour. Then he broke the link.

  I'd probably showed some irritation. Then, the whole business irritated me. I'd defended myself, and I hadn't caused the goons any permanent damage, except maybe a broken nose or two and some scars. Good medicine could take care of all that. With those neuralwhips, what they'd intended to do to me was worse—even if they might have been set up. And someone else, or the same group, had just tried to kill me.

  Yet the safos were searching for someone who'd hurt the goons, rather than asking what the goons had been doing, and why. Just another example of how organizations supposedly designed to protect people end up protecting the wrong people—and why I suspected that my decision not to tell anyone about the attempts might have been the wisest short-term course.

  Another thought nagged at me—the Prius and RezLine messes. Both had involved Vorhees and Reyes. I pushed aside PPI and Methroy for a moment and keyed in an inquiry, simple enough, to see if there had been any links to Vorhees and Reyes or Abe Vorhees himself and unexplained deaths and murders.

  In less than three minutes I had results, and I wasn't thrilled about them. The events were spread over almost ten years, and there were only four cases, one an accidental death in a groundcar where a crane had fallen on it and killed a witness in a case involving a client of Vorhees and Reyes; a second where an employee of Vorhees had accidentally triggered an illegal neurostunner she had allegedly obtained for home protection and killed herself; a third where a mid-level employee at a client firm had been the victim of a smash and grab and left in an alley; and a fourth where the personal assistant to the director of media operations at a client firm had been shot while jogging. In the three "nonaccidental" deaths, no assailant had ev
er been identified.

  Vorhees and Reyes was a good-sized multi, and the deaths could have had nothing to do with Abe Vorhees. But time after time, I'd been told to be careful when dealing with them, and people usually didn't offer that kind of advice unless there was something behind it. Once again, there was very little I could do ... except be very careful.

  And I still had to get back to ErrorOne and PPI.

  Chapter 21

  Six figures were seated around the teak table, four men and two women. Five sets of eyes focused on Tan Uy-Smythe.

  "I'm still concerned about this," offered the red-haired woman. "Are we certain that a nonacademic, such as deVrai, will be regarded as impartial? This study must be above reproach. Too much is at stake. The world cannot afford uncontrolled and manipulative politics."

  Uy-Smythe nodded politely. "Dr. deVrai is a most honorable man. He is also known as such."

  "Wasn't he a war hero somewhere? In that nasty business in Guyana, wasn't it?" asked the blue-eyed man.

  "That was a bit before your time with PST, Alistar," replied the other woman. "Then, most things have been before your time."

  "I lack the perspective of long-time has-beens, Director Mydra." Alistar's tone was on the edge of mocking.

  "Along with patience and tact," murmured Escher, the eldest. "And judgment."

  Alistar stiffened, as if he had been brushed with a neurowand. "I defer to those who have seen more."

  "Perhaps you would explain, Director Uy-Smythe," suggested the man whose face carried the same heritage as the director.

  "Thank you, Director Deng." Tan Uy-Smythe inclined his head slightly. "The Centre investigated the backgrounds of the top consultants in the field. For pure accuracy and, more importantly, the reputation for pure accuracy, no one else approached Dr. deVrai. Although he does not boast of it, he does have a doctorate, and he obtained it with honors from Darden. He is also known for refusing to twist his reports to suit his clients. His writing can be most diplomatic, but the facts don't change. His military ... situation is another factor. Rather than cover up the debacle in Guyana, he resigned and reported what happened accurately. That's why he's perfectly suited to the project. His resignation letter remains a classic. It's often cited as an example of pragmatic idealism in a military officer. It's still part of the case study used as an example of what bad military management can create. Dr. deVrai doesn't believe in much of anything besides his own abilities, and that has enhanced his impartiality. In critical political circles, Dr. deVrai is known as uncorruptable. It is doubtful he would be as successful as he is in many other fields, but because subjectivity can bias ability in evaluating media exposure effectiveness, that independence is regarded as an asset, if only because so much is at stake. As another factor, because he's the best in the field, and known to be, everyone would ask why we didn't use him. We'll also have two or three peer review analyses to support what he reports. That's standard when we use a commercial source."

  "He sounds like an empty man, a flash with brains. Will they support him? Can you ensure that?" asked Alistar.

  "That's the beauty of it," replied Uy-Smythe. "They follow him. Two of them I found because they'd already quoted from some of his commercial work that clients made public. The analysts have never met him personally, and they're highly regarded. One's at USaskan, and the other's at UTejas."

  "Have you any idea of his progress?"

  "He has promised to meet the deadline, and he's never missed a deadline in the entire time he's been an independent consultant."

  "Bu—" Alistar stopped in mid-word as he caught a glance from Deng, and then from the older Escher.

  "It might be well if the Centre's review board also studied his final report."

  "We had planned to have them do so, Director Escher."

  "I had thought so, but we would like to make sure that his report is regarded as without bias and accurate."

  "We have made that a continuing priority with all our studies and reports."

  "We are most conscious and appreciative of that, Director Uy-Smythe. That is why PST has been one of the most faithful supporters of the Centre."

  Chapter 22

  I didn't feel like hiding. So I went for a run on Wednesday, but I left a half hour earlier and took an alternate shorter route I hadn't used in months, and I ran faster, senses and eyes ready. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  Besides the fact that I still had nothing solid on who might be trying to kill me, Wednesday looked promising, financially, until I settled into my office ready to work some more on the big report for the Centre on Societal Research, and checked the gatekeeper. It was before nine, and Methroy had already left two link messages. I'd sent off the revised ErrorOne/PPI report to Methroy the night before. From the clipped words that demanded I link as soon as possible, I had the feeling that giving him the report that early had been a mistake.

  I returned the link.

  "Jonat, you've got the right idea here, but you're still not giving enough targeted emphasis."

  I wasn't sure how I could have targeted it any more without actually putting a graphic of a target on page one. In my present situation, I already felt like one.

  "We need more sales-oriented efforts, more hard numbers on how the prodplacing on the All-1 has effectively boosted sales. Those numbers have to show that we couldn't get those sales any other way..."

  "You've never given me the actual sales numbers," I pointed out. "You've insisted that those are confidential. You've only given me the percentage increases by demographic groupings." Now ... from working with the numbers backwards for more than a year, I had a good idea of what the absolute numbers were, but I didn't know.

  "You can say something along those lines, can't you? What's the problem?"

  "I can't say that, not when I don't know. That's why I didn't. Any aggregation would only be an estimate, and if my estimate is wrong, you won't look good."

  "Just say something like, 'Without prodplacing for All-1, sales would decrease by more than fifty percent.'"

  "How am I supposed to say that without actual numbers?"

  "Because that's the kind of number we need, Jonat. Fonroy and his byte-counters want to cut media expenditures by fifty percent. More if they can get away with it. They think it's a win if they cut expenditures by forty percent, and sales only go down twenty percent." Methroy's face was flushed, and that meant his simmie tailoring wasn't cutting it all out. His real face was probably flame-red.

  "You mean ... if they cut a million from media costs on a product that grosses a hundred million a year, and sales go down fifteen million ... they think they're ahead?"

  "You got it."

  I didn't want to get it. I almost couldn't believe people in decision-making positions were that stupid, but I'd seen enough to learn better. "So you want a section on response elasticity, in real clear and simple terms?"

  "That's right."

  "I'll still need overall sales numbers."

  "I can't—"

  "Give me last year's, then. I'll use them and project, giving an illustration, and covering by saying the current figures aren't final. But I can't make a claim like that without numbers, and I don't know that I can give you fifty percent. I'll do what I can."

  "I'll send the last year's, and this year's first quarter. But you have to say they're not final."

  "I can do that."

  The numbers arrived within minutes, and in only a few more minutes, I knew the best I could give him was a range of 25 to 30 percent, and that was stretching every condition to the max.

  Doing it took me well into the afternoon, and that half day was more unbillable time. It wasn't even clear and uninterrupted time. Miguel Elisar linked and wanted some clarifications on what I'd sent, and Methroy had to link to ask when he was getting the revised report, and I suggested, very politely, that he was likely to get it sooner if I happened to be free to work on it, and that it wouldn't be long.

  Another emwhore almost
blew the gatekeeper, and I had to reset the thresholds before I could get back to PPI, and I still hadn't looked at the Centre material.

  Even before I sent off the third revision of Methroy's report, work I'd underbid to begin with, Ursula Frinz of RI linked about the Hotters/Relaxo report. Contrary to the impression of her name, Ursula was petite, so slim I wasn't sure she could cast a shadow, and dark and feline, with black hair and black eyes.

  "Jonat... marketing has a question about section three of your report."

  "Yes?" I really didn't want to deal with another rewrite, but, like it or not, they came with the business.

  "They're claiming that sales of the minimuscler go to an entirely different demographic segment than the sales for the full-body massager do."

  "They might be talking about different subsegments," I offered. "The demographics for Hotters are well-documented. We're talking the thirty-five to forty-five couples, predominantly Anglo, preoccupied with sex, lower midder income—"

  "Marketing says that the minimuscler goes to those who are lower-lower midder, and it's not the same sales base."

  "They may be right," I conceded, "but the statistics aren't broken down that way, and if I say that, I don't have any way of backing it up. If you're comfortable with it, I can put in some words about anecdotal sales experience indicating that kind of breakdown, and something about that being logical..."

  "Anything that you can do would help. If you can do that, I'll explain to marketing about the limitations of the data, and that you'll include their observations."

  "I can do that."

  "I knew I could count on you, Jonat. The sooner you can get a revised version to me, the better." Ursula flashed me a most feline smile.

  "You'll have it."

  Her holo image vanished.

  Then I went back and finished Methroy's report. I got it off and returned to the Hotters/Relaxo report. That wasn't bad, only an hour or so to redraft parts of section three and send a clean copy of the report to Ursula.

  While I'd been tied up with Ursula, I'd gotten another message from Chelsa Glynn, asking most politely, if I happened to be interested in the AKRA seminar. So I took another half hour and studied her material, then linked off a hard reply, saying that I'd be delighted, and asking what might be the deadline for the technical paper.