Interface: A Techno Thriller (2 page)

One month ago he had got the phone call. Three interviews later and his life was transformed. Instead of working seventy hours a week, ploughing out a path as a junior associate at a City law firm, he had been plucked from obscurity, head-hunted to join the world-renowned CERUS Biotech. He didn't even start until Monday, but here he was at the VIP launch for the company's new London headquarters, waiting for CERUS' famous CEO to make an appearance.
 

Tom's phone buzzed in his pocket. His flatmate Jo had texted twice already, eager to know if Bern had strayed off script as he was known to.

Hey loser. Want to do breakfast tomorrow morning? 7am? I'm away after that for the weekend.

Tom started to tap a response when a voice broke over the public address system, "
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE STAGE AND WELCOME YOUR HOST, CEO OF CERUS BIOTECH, WILLIAM BERN
."

Applause rang out as Tom watched a tanned, energetic man in his fifties bound onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening." His amplified voice seemed to come from every direction at once. "It is my absolute pleasure to welcome you to the grand opening of our new head office, CERUS Tower, here in the heart of London's Docklands." Bern paused and leaned forward. "I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules, especially on a Friday night. I trust someone is keeping your glasses full." He turned and waved his hand. The lights dimmed and a projection of CERUS Tower lit up the wall behind him.

"Why are we all here? Those of you who know me know that I would love to be revealing a big surprise. Something that would truly 'blow your mind'. But, unlike most of our projects, we could hardly keep this building under wraps. Over the last twelve months it has steadily come to dominate the Docklands' skyline. But while the exterior may be rather obvious, inside revolutionary features are woven into its very fabric. In terms of both design and technology it is a quantum leap." Bern made another gesture and the image converted to a graphic showing statistics proclaiming energy efficiency, structural strength and the building's carbon footprint.
 

"Our chief architect will be available to answer your questions later, but let me rudely steal some of his thunder by quoting a few numbers for you: 1100 feet tall, 90 occupiable floors, housing 95% of our UK staff in a single site. There are 10 express elevators, 4 gymnasia, 42 miles of air conditioning ducting, and 275 espresso machines." Another gesture, and the image zoomed in to the reception hall, clad in glass and aluminium, filled with smiling CERUS employees.

"But in the end, why do we have a building except to provide the perfect environment for our people? It's become a cliché to say that people are your most valuable asset, yet here at CERUS we've walked that talk and created the most revolutionary work space anywhere in the world. Which brings me to..."

Tom was watching the presentation, so he didn't see the figure approach, just felt a finger tap his shoulder and turned to see a short man, somewhere in his fifties, the barest remnants of hair clinging to the back of his skull. Around his neck he wore a CERUS photo ID card, but it was obscured by his party invite tag. All Tom could see was that his first name began 'Ric'.

"You're in legal, right?" said the man, clutching an empty wine glass. He swung his gaze around, as if someone might be watching. As far as Tom could tell, the entire room was looking at Bern.

"I start on Monday," said Tom, with a smile. "Look, do you mind if I..." He gestured at the stage, but the man ignored him.

"I need to speak with you. It's important."

"Of course. I'm not on the system yet, but give me your email and I'll set up a time for us to chat."

The man frowned. "I want to report something. Is there somewhere we could speak?"

"Why don't you call me for an appointment on Monday? I'll give you every assistance then."

The man shook his head agitatedly. "I can't have anything on the system. Right now they won't have a clue that..." He seemed to hesitate. "Look, never mind." He turned and slipped away into the crowd.

Tom turned back to the front just as the CEO finished his speech.
 

Bern cleared his throat and said, "I'll take a few questions now." He looked around the room, almost like it was a challenge.

"How's the view from the top?" asked a man near the back.

"I'll assume that's a specific question about my office, rather than a prompt for abstract thoughts about business leadership," said Bern. "And the answer is, truly amazing. My apologies that, for security reasons, I can't take you all up there to show you."

"What do your staff think of the new, predominantly open-plan working environment?" asked a woman at the front.

"I won't pretend it's not a major adjustment for some. But it maximises use of light and space, and it really drives collaborative working. Also, most of our office-designated floors will use hot-desking. So anyone can have a window seat – if they get in early enough."

"Does it really make sense to have R&D on-site with your office functions?" said a woman in the middle of the crowd. "No other biotech company operates that way. Why not base yourself on an industrial park?"

Bern smiled. "I've had that same question many times." He nodded to the room. "And the answer is that we're not like other tech companies. We want our best people together, be they in research, finance, legal or marketing. And remember, this is not a full-scale R&D facility; we perform preliminary research and technical simulations, most of it done on computers. It's all about having the brain power and the computing power in one location so they can interface."

"Speaking of working together," said a man nearer the front, "there have been a lot of rumours about technical problems with the building. Is it all going to fall down on us?"

Bern frowned. "Any project of this size encounters problems. We have broken new ground with this building. Despite the challenges, our team of advisers have guided us through the maze and we completed on spec, on budget, and on time." He raised his glass. "And I, for one, will happily be moving in to my office full-time from Monday."

There was applause from most of the room. As it died down a thin man wearing glasses shouted out, "I don't think anyone will argue it's an impressive building. But can you afford it? How about these rumours of systemic financial problems at CERUS, linked with a succession of R&D failures?"

Bern smiled broadly. "Does a company in financial trouble throw a party like this? Now, this evening was meant to be a launch party for the building, not a forum for self-interested journalists to grandstand so let's move on--"

"And how about the rumours of CERUS' more dangerous interests in speculative science? Are you itching to get back into nanotech?"

Tom watched as four large, suited men started quietly making their way through the crowd towards the man who'd called out these questions, but Bern waved them off. He looked directly at the bespectacled figure and, when it came, his reply was liquid velvet. "We are, indeed, a company centred on speculative science. Someone has to stand up high and look into the wind. To see where we need to go next. We wouldn't be where we are now if the last generation hadn't done exactly the same. Now, you may think it's smart to point out failures, and use that as justification for not taking risks. But I see that as a big problem." He paused. "And do you know what's worse?" He looked around the room, as if inviting an answer. "Our politicians are just the same. We need leaders who have the vision to support and enable ground-breaking research."

"At any cost?" asked the man.

"In my experience the cost is usually worth it, in the long run. You can't stand in the way of progress. We should all embrace it. And then we might just change the world." Bern spread his hands wide. The audience obliged with a thunderous round of applause.

"Now, I'd better wrap this up, otherwise nobody is going to get a chance to sample the obscenely expensive catering. Just one last thing before I do." He tapped the lectern and the lights dimmed again. "When ships are launched, we usually smash a bottle of champagne over them. I know this building is not a ship. But, quite frankly, it could be mistaken for a spaceship so..."

Futuristic synthesiser music swelled around the room and from somewhere above a champagne bottle on a white cord was lowered to hang just behind Bern. He grabbed it and raised an eyebrow to the crowd. "Maybe we should have done this outside."

There were some nervous titters.

Bern held the bottle high. "I name this building CERUS Tower." And he let the bottle swing towards the stone wall behind him.

It struck and bounced off. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"That didn't happen in rehearsals," said Bern. The crowd laughed obligingly. He stepped forward, gripped the bottle's neck and swung his arm in a forceful arc. Champagne and glass erupted, and the crowd cheered. A waiter rushed forward and handed Bern a towel. He wiped champagne from his hands, and turned back to the lectern.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, have a wonderful evening." He held up his glistening hand. "The drink really is on me."

Tom watched him leave the stage then turned away to look for the people he'd earmarked to talk to that night. He left his half-finished champagne on the table and started towards one of the senior lawyers who'd interviewed him.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder as he passed and he turned, half-expecting to see the nervous man he had spoken with earlier. Instead it was a slender woman in an elegant black dress, her matching stilettos spiking into the floor. She was cradling a glass in each hand, cognac from the sharp smell in the air. "Enjoying the party?"

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said politely, about to turn away again.

"Isn't it bad luck when the bottle doesn't break?"

He was drawn to her smile, blood-red lips against a pale complexion. "I think that only works for ships. A building is hardly going to sink." He found himself unable to look away. "So, what brings you here tonight? Do you work at CERUS?"

"I suppose you could say I freelance. Disposals and terminations, that sort of thing." She held up the two glasses and grinned. "Toast to new beginnings?"

"To the building?"

"And your new job."

Tom frowned. "How do you know I'm new here?"

The woman smiled, extending a glass to him. "In my line of work, it's imperative to assess people quickly and accurately. And I
assess
you as needing a drink."

Tom blinked, taking it from her. "If you know I'm new, you know I'm not going to be much use for introductions. And if you wanted a word with the boss, Mr Bern's probably left already. I understand he's got a helipad on the roof."

Her eyebrows raised. "I'm not interested in him. Or anyone else here for that matter. I just want to share a drink with you, Tom."

"How do you know my name?"

She extended one elegantly manicured finger and tapped at his chest. "Your ID." She raised her glass and clinked it against his. "C'mon, Tom. Relax and have a drink with me. It's a party. What's the worst that could happen?"

THREE

EARLY MORNING SUN CREPT OVER Monaco. On the deck of the
Excelcium
, one of the many yachts anchored in the harbour, William Bern sat sipping orange juice as he watched a small motor boat approaching.
 

Soon there was the sound of footsteps on the internal staircase, then the familiar figure of Neil Bradley walked onto the deck. As always, he wore a suit that looked more expensive than he ought to be able to afford. Bern's eyes were drawn to the briefcase in his right hand. "Couldn't this have waited?"

Bradley placed the briefcase on the table. "I wish it could. I'm not the bearer of good news."
 

"Few people have been recently. What's happened now?"

"Gregory Stone called me yesterday to withdraw from the deal. He's got wind of the rumours. Doesn't think you'll be around to deliver in six months' time."

"He wishes." Bern shook his head. "Still his timing could be better. What does this mean for our numbers?"

"If we can hold off the liquidators for more than three or four months, I'll be stunned. And the moment that happens, we lose the Tower."

"I'd sooner blow it up." Bern eased back in his seat and adjusted his sunglasses, which were considerably more expensive than Bradley's suit. "We'll go to the banks. Or a suitably intelligent investor." He stabbed his forefinger on the surface of the table. "People believe in me."

Bradley took a deep breath. "You brought me on board to establish partnerships, find new sources of finance. But you have to understand: you've failed too many times. And all those run-ins with the government? People remember."

"How could they even know? Every project was classified."

"Rumours get out. And now people
don't
believe in you, William."
 

Bern snorted. "So you weren't up to the job I hired you for."

"I do have one idea, but I'm not sure if you're going to like it."

"Don't be coy, Neil."

Bradley reached into the briefcase and withdrew a grey card file. He slid it slowly across the table. "An old project you might remember."

Bern flipped it open, then stifled a laugh. "Where did you find this?"

"I've been trawling the archives."

"Deep diving would be more apt. I thought all these records had been destroyed."

"It seems the team were not as rigorous as they led the regulator to believe."

Bern ran his finger over the name.
PROJECT TANTALUS
.
 

"I understand the name was a joke about success always being out of reach?"

"I recall it was an accurate descriptor."

"Perhaps not any more," Bradley said. "I've had someone review the file. There are synergies with other research CERUS has done: research that might give you the missing piece to make this work."

"After what happened last time you think I want to touch that again?"