Learning Curve (20 page)

T
he meeting had started badly and gotten worse. Through each of the six presentations by her executive team, Alison had sat uncharacteristically silent. That, plus her pale face and set jaw, had made each presenter in turn increasingly jumpy and hesitant. They had known coming in that they were going to be delivering bad news—that with seven days left before the end of the quarter, eTernity was not going to hit the numbers Alison had promised the analysts, and Version 2.0 was continuing to slip—but they couldn't read her response. Was this angry acceptance or the prelude to an explosion? By the time the last presenter, poor Vanesh Jayaram, began laying out the financial situation at the firm, his hands were shaking visibly.

He finished at last and slumped back with visible relief. No one spoke; nor did anyone look at the CEO. Finally, Alison took the sheaf of papers she held in her hand and dismissively tossed them on the table. She looked around at all of the bowed faces and lowered eyes and said, “2.0 comes out in forty-five days.”

“It's still really buggy, Alison,” said Court Tanaka delicately.

“Forty five days, Court. If we have to, we'll ship it with the bugs and patch later.”

“That's risky.”

She ignored him. “Forty-five days. And we start leaking the intro date, starting now.”

“And earnings?” asked Larry Kessler.

“We will hit our numbers, no matter what.”

“How?” he asked. “You saw the numbers. They speak for themselves.”

“And I speak for this company,” she replied. “Book some of the sales from next quarter.”

“We already have. It's not enough. Anything more will attract attention.”

“Then temporarily lay off people. We'll take our numbers off the top.”

“It's too late. And if we announce a lay-off, we'll still take a stock hit.”

Alison's eyes flared. She looked around the table. “I can't begin to tell you how disappointed I am in all of you,” she said. “This company used to do the impossible.”

“Yeah,” said Kessler, “But that was before our CEO started pulling financials out of a top hat.”

Alison turned in her chair and spoke directly to him. “Alright, Larry, you're the Chief
Operations
Officer. What do we do? What are our choices?”

Kessler looked at the others, then back at his CEO. “At this point, we're down to just two. One, we keep pushing, and try to get as close to your target as we can. We take the stock hit—and pray the SEC doesn't show up at our door. Or two, we immediately send out a press advisory announcing an adjustment in our predictions—and take the stock hit now.”

“In other words,” said Alison dismissively, “we look either crooked or incompetent. Is that it?”

“Basically, yes.”

There was a quick knock on the door. Daisy, Alison's new secretary, peeked around. “I'm very sorry to interrupt, Ms. Prue, but Mr. Bellflower is on the phone. He says it's important.”

Great timing, Arthur.
Alison nodded glumly. “I'll take it in my office.” Leaving the papers on the table, she rose. “Gentlemen, I'll have an answer for you by day's end.” She glared at the secretary taking notes. “Stop writing.
Now.
” She turned and looked around the table. “I want you all to sit in here and come up with every
trick you can think of to get us within range of our prediction.
Every
trick. Not just the half-assed efforts you've come up with so far. Act like your careers depend upon it—because they do. We'll reconvene at 2:00 p.m.”

She closed her office door behind her, leaned with her back against it, and burst into tears. Wiping them away, she composed herself, walked to her desk, and picked up the phone.

“Arthur?”

“We have an appointment,” Bellflower said flatly. “A car will pick you up at 4:00 p.m. to take you to SFO.”

“Where are we going?”

“I'll explain in the plane. Don't worry about clothes; you'll be home by midnight.”

“Arthur, I'm incredibly busy today.”

“You're about to get busier.”

D
an looked out the window at the private jets parked in front of the San Jose Jetport. Enjoy the view, he told himself, you aren't going to see it again for a long, long time.

“It's good to have you on board again, Mr. Crowen,” said Andrea, the attendant, looking exactly the same as she always did. “It's been what—six months—since the last time you were our guest?”

“I guess it has been,” he said. “After all those busy months, you probably enjoyed the break.”

Andrea smiled dreamily. “Oh, Mr. Validator has managed to keep us all on the run in the meantime.”

“I suppose he has.”

“May I get you anything before we take off?”

Dan took a deep breath. “I know it's a little early, but how about one of your famous mile-high martinis?”

“I'll get right on it.”

Dan sat back and looked around the cabin, marking it in his mind. You read about it in novels, he thought, but it isn't very often that real life comes full circle. But here I am. Off to Idaho to once again have my life turned upside down by Cosmo Validator. He smiled. Or maybe this time it's right side up…

He heard the ice tinkling in the cocktail shaker. Beneath him, he felt the brakes release and the plane begin to taxi forward. The view outside the window started to slide. Dan
pulled his phone out of his briefcase and dialed home.

Annabelle answered.

“I've been summoned,” he told her.

She sighed. “So,” she asked, “is this it?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is.”

“Well, honey, there are worse things. We've certainly learned that lately.”

“Yes, we have.”

“How do you feel?”

“You know, Annie, I've been dreading this moment for my entire adult life. And now that it's here, I'm actually kind of relieved. And ready. I don't think I've ever been so weary.”

“I know, baby,” she said. Dan could hear the tears in her voice. “When you get home tonight, we'll have a late dinner. We'll sleep in. And when you're ready we'll talk about getting away to someplace quiet and restful.”

“I like it all.”

Andrea set the martini down in front of him. Dan mouthed ‘thanks' and turned back to the phone. “You know, Annabelle, my only real regret is that I didn't get that skunkworks project done in time. We were so close.”

“Listen,” she said, “you can walk away now knowing that despite everything, you saved your company. Everyone else will see that soon enough. As for the skunkworks, it doesn't have to die. You once told me that no good idea ever really goes away around here. It just goes dormant until it's needed.”

“Did I say that? Then it's probably not true.”

“Let Armstrong run with the thing. With you out of the picture, he can probably get away with it. He's more than clever enough to cut a deal with Validator. You were the real problem. Once you're gone, the conflict of interest is gone, too. I'll bet you Validator Software buys Armstrong out in six months. And Arm'll take care of you, because he's always been a man of honor.”

Dan chuckled. “You should have been a businesswoman, baby.”

“It's all those years being married to you. And I'll bet you've already thought of all of this.”

“Yes, but not so succinctly. Still, we can't make any final decisions until I know what my termination package will be. They'll probably want to keep me around for the transition. Or maybe Cosmo already has my replacement waiting in the wings. Either way, I'll likely know in about three hours.”

“Call me afterwards, will you?”

“You know I will.”

“And after you nobly shake Cosmo's hand and thank him for everything, please tell him from me that I think he should go fuck himself.”

Dan laughed out loud. “Oh, it'll be my pleasure.”

A
lison Prue and Arthur Bellflower, in their rented jet, were already flying over Mt. Lassen. Alison finally reached across the aisle, tapped the man on the arm, and said, “Okay, Arthur. Are you ready now to tell me where we're going?”

Bellflower, who had been dozing—or at least pretending to—opened his eyes. “You know, young lady, there's an old saying in Silicon Valley. It's that eventually you will work with, for, or against everyone else in this town.”

“I think I heard that somewhere.”

“Now, tell me, Alison, how much do you know about my background?”

“You mean, beyond what I read on Wikipedia? Can I trust that source?”

Bellflower ignored her. “For example, to illustrate that saying, did you know that way back, when I quit National Semiconductor and started Reason Software, my very first angel investor—the very first investor who believed in me, not as a corporate executive but as an honest-to-god entrepreneur—was Cosmo Validator?”

Alison froze. “No, I didn't know that. Are you still in touch with him?”

“Remember when I told you about my old friends?” he asked her. “Cosmo is the godfather of my children. And he was there for the christening of both my grandchildren. We have lunch about once a month.”

Good god,
she thought. “Is that where we're going, Arthur? Are we going to see Validator? Where's his ranch—Idaho? Utah?”

“…And when I started Reason, do you know what banker gave me my first line of credit?”

“I have no idea.”

“Dan Crowen.”

Alison's eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me you regularly have lunch with him, too.”

“I haven't seen him in ten years.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Arthur?” Alison asked.

Bellflower put his two index fingers to his lips, as if in thought. “Only that, the more years go by, the more I'm convinced of the truth of that old saying.”

A
s always, Virgil Mason was waiting for him at Validator's private hangar at the Coeur d'Alene airport. “No bags?” he asked as Dan came down the steps.

“Not this time,” said Dan. “Going home tonight.”

They spoke little on the long drive, this time under a low sun glowing through piled clouds. When they pulled up in front of the big ranch house, Mason reached over and shook Dan's hand. “Good luck, Mr. Crowen. When you're ready to go I'll be waiting out here.”

Mary Mason opened the big front door. She had changed her hair, letting it turn a striking silver-gray. It seemed to underscore the time that had passed. “Hey, stranger,” she said and wrapped him in a hug. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes.

“It's been too long again,” said Dan.

She nodded. “They're all waiting for you in Mr. Validator's office.”

“They?”

“I'm supposed to take you up there.”

Dan nodded. “Everything well with you?”

A tear broke and slid down Mary's right cheek. She put a hand up too late to catch it. “As good as can be expected.”

They walked silently through the house. Apart from a few more Remingtons and Russells, the great hall was unchanged. Beyond the giant window, the snow-covered mountains were the palest of oranges. Mary led him up a half-dozen steps and on into Cosmo's private wing. In all the years he'd known Cosmo, Dan had never once been invited to this part of the house.
Well,
he thought,
at least this is something.

After passing an exercise room, a gun room, and a sauna, they stopped at a pair of cedar doors under a large pediment of the same wood, all of it carved with acanthus leaves, rosettes, and oak leaves. In the center of one door, carved in a rococo medallion, was an ornate “C,” and on the other was a “V.”
No font of holy water?
Dan asked himself grimly.

Mary reached for the handle to the right door. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Good luck,” then opened the door.

Dan found himself at the threshold of a surprisingly large room, filled with hunting trophies, awards and photographs, and all the other accoutrements of fame. Through the far window, he could see the sun blazing over distant mountains and a wide valley; its light reflected endlessly off the gold, silver, cut glass, and polished wooden objects in the room.

A silhouette, its corona of hair gleaming white, rose in front of the sunlight and threw a shadow towards him across a huge mahogany desk. “Come in Dan,” said Cosmo Validator. He pointed behind Dan's right shoulder. “Shall I make the introductions?”

Dan turned… and was surprised to see Alison Prue and Arthur Bellflower sitting on an oxblood leather Chesterfield sofa. Both of them rose.

“Good to see you again, Dan,” said Bellflower, stepping forward to shake Dan's hand. “It's been a very long time.”

“It has, Arthur. And what an unlikely place for a reunion.”

Bellflower nodded. “It is indeed.” He turned. “Please allow me to introduce you to Ms. Alison Prue.”

Dan swallowed hard as he stepped forward to take Alison's hand. Her grip was cold but strong. “Alison, it's a pleasure to finally meet you after all this time.”

“The pleasure is all mine—I think,” she said.

“And Dan,” Validator went on, with only a trace of amusement in his voice. “I'm sure you remember my assistant, Lisa Holmes.” He made a casual gesture to the figure sitting in a chair by the desk, to his left.

“Yes,” said Daniel evenly. He made a crisp nod in the woman's direction. “Ms. Holmes.”

“It's like a family reunion,” said Validator with a wry smile.

As if on cue, the sun dipped behind a cloud, dimming the glare and throwing Cosmo's face into relief for the first time. “Please, everyone, join me here and be seated. This won't take long. I'm afraid I have another appointment—with the governor—after this. And I'm sure you will all want to get home before it gets too late.”

They each found seats. Dan's chair had steer horns for arms; Alison's was upholstered in zebra. Bellflower sat on a small Grecian couch along the right wall under a large George Catlin painting of Indian warriors spearing buffalo in the snow.

Validator waited for everyone to make themselves comfortable. Finally he said, “I'll make this simple. We already have a general agreement in place between the two boards.” He nodded to the man on the couch. “Thank you, Arthur, for staying on at eTernity after the IPO.”

Alison turned to stare at Bellflower. He didn't return the look.

“Obviously,” Validator continued, “this will need shareholder approval. And there's no way we can escape the SEC taking a good hard look…”

It suddenly hit Dan what was about to happen. “Oh my God,” he whispered.

“…but I think that with Validator Software increasingly uncompetitive and its stock near its historic low, there shouldn't be much of a problem.”

“Problem with what?” asked Alison.

“The merger,” Validator said calmly. “Your company is going to buy mine, with the merged company to be called Validator Corporation.”

“We don't need you,” protested Alison. Her voice rose. “We're already running your company into the ground, Mr. Validator.”

Cosmo waited patiently. “In fact, you
do
need us,” he said. “For one thing, Ms. Prue, you are increasingly out of your depth—as was illustrated by that foolish and impetuous prediction you made to the analysts last week. Your company is about to take a devastating stock hit, you may be investigated by the Justice Department for fraud, and your senior management is on the brink of mutiny. You're a very talented businesswoman, young lady, but you need adult supervision until you're ready to run a great company—and I'd prefer not to lose you in the process.”

Alison's face turned red. She spun towards Bellflower, nearly coming out her chair. “Arthur, you agree with this?”

“It was my idea,” said Bellflower calmly.

Why, if
we
are buying
them
, are we taking
their
name?”

“Because,” Cosmo interrupted, “it is a distinguished name, and as old as our industry. Or, if you prefer, because it will give your company the gravity it currently lacks.”

“I don't believe this is happening!” Alison shouted. She gave each of the men a furious look in turn. “It's as if, after everything, I have
no
say in this decision.”

Bellflower held up his open hands to calm her. “As you well know, Alison, your say in a matter like this is determined entirely by your shareholdings in the firm.”

Though he had not yet said a word, Dan was no less stunned than Alison. It had already struck him that his termination was one of the cards yet to be played in this plan. Trying to act confident, he asked, “How long have you been planning this, Cosmo?”

Validator smiled, but chose not to answer him directly. “The good news is that this merger is almost a perfect fit, with little redundancy, so we won't have to suffer the bad publicity of lay-offs and all the other complications.”

“So that's why you killed my sales force,” Dan said with a mixture of anger and admiration. “You've been planning this for three years, haven't you?”

Cosmo's face went blank. “You of all people should know how erratic and unpredictable I am, Dan. I hardly know what I'm doing tomorrow, much less next week. But I can assure you that all my actions have been in the best interests of the firm and its shareholders.”

“Oh yes,” Dan replied wryly. “Let the official record show that.”

Alison turned again to Bellflower, this time as if the two of them were alone. “Arthur,” she said urgently, “we don't need these people. I screwed up, I admit it, but we'll weather it. There's nothing Validator Software can give us that we don't already have.”

“Actually, that's not true,” said Cosmo, picking up a piece of paper and glancing at it. “Leaving aside our $6 billion in annual revenues, profit margins that are higher than yours, and 20,000 loyal customers—remarkably loyal, given the last couple years—there is also the matter of new products. Arthur tells me you'll be lucky to get your next generation product out just six months late. Meanwhile, Dan here has a little skunkworks operation going in Santa Clara—run by your old friend Armstrong Givens, Ms. Prue—that's not only got a superior product to yours, but is going to beat you to market. How long until it's ready, Dan?”

“Six weeks.”

Validator turned to the figure beside him. “Is that what your intelligence says, Lisa?”

“More or less,” she said, flicking through a report on her laptop.

Dan started to laugh. He clapped his hands four times, each clap louder than the last. “Well played, Cosmo. After all these years, you can still ­surprise me.” He began to rise from his chair. “Well, good luck to you all. Shall I have Virgil drive me back to the airport?”

“Not just yet,” said Cosmo. “Please sit down, Dan. We still have a personnel matter to attend to.”

Dan reluctantly did as he was asked.

Cosmo folded his hands on the desk. He didn't speak for a long time, as if what he was about to say was difficult and needed to be carefully phrased.

Finally he spoke. “Dan, I've concluded that, after nearly fifty years, it's time for me to retire from the electronics industry. As you know, my wife Amber is currently the president of the Idaho Chamber of Commerce. She's now decided to run for Congress from the 2nd District. I have it on good authority that she will win, too,” he said with a wink.

“Because of that, I plan to spend the next few years working in Washington, out of my Georgetown townhouse. By coincidence,” he said, smiling knowingly at Bellflower, “Arthur and I will be asked by the President of the United States to serve on his Council of Science and Technology Advisors, of which I will be the chairman. Of course, that's not yet public news, so please keep it to yourselves.”

Dan grinned. “Does the President know this yet?”

Validator laughed. “No, not yet.”

“Then, Cosmo,” said Dan, “let me be the first to congratulate you and your wife on this triumph of the democratic process.”

“Thank you,” said Validator. “The people have spoken—or at least they will in November. And that brings me to you, Dan. Arthur and I have concluded, and both of our boards have agreed, to offer you the chairmanship of the newly merged Validator Software.”

Cosmo then turned to Alison. “We have also agreed to offer you, Ms. Prue, the position of chief executive officer of the new company.”

Cosmo Validator stood without waiting for a response. The others followed suit. “I will expect a response from both of you in the next forty-eight hours. In the meantime, while we're getting the cars ready to take you to the airport, shall we retire to the living room to celebrate? I have champagne prepared.”