Poverty

 

Cupertino, California
October 16h

 

I caught a taxi to the airport the next morning and got on a flight back to California at 8:01am.  I suspiciously peered at every passenger and stewardess and crew attendant, but my quick forays into the Overnet didn’t reveal anybody close by, and the five-hour flight went without incident.  I landed and found a message on my cell phone.

 

“Peter, give me a call.”  It was my boss.  “We really need to talk.”

 

As I got into my car I called him, finally reached him at home.  “Bob, this is Peter. What’s up?”

 

His voice was frantic, panicked.  I had never heard it like that before.  “Look, Peter, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.  Some things are going on that you need to know about.”

 

“What?” I asked.

 

“There’s a hostile takeover of the company.  Just started last night, really, and I’ve never seen anything move so fast.  It’s bad, Peter.  It’s a rape and pillage.  They want to come in, buy the assets, lay everyone off.  God, Peter, you know what the job market is like.”

 

Oh, that hurt. I had worked with many of these people for years.  “Well, most of the oldtimers will be okay, they have a lot of stock.”

 

“No, it gets worse, Peter.  The employees are going to get screwed.  They’ve got some really powerful legal talent, lots of it, and they’re going over everything with a fine-toothed comb, and our contracts are turning out to be full of holes.  I can’t believe what I’m hearing, Peter, but basically the stock is going to be worthless.”

 

“How is that possible?  It’s driven by the valuation of the company when they buy it,” I said.

 

“I know, Peter, it doesn’t make sense, but somehow they’re going to do it.  This is crazy, it doesn’t make any business sense, it’s almost like it’s being done out of spite, or something.  I think they’ve scared the board, or something, but they’re going to sell the company at pennies a share, the stock is going to be worthless.  Jesus, I don’t know what I can do.  I need you here, Peter, people are freaking out, and maybe we can spot a way out of it that the lawyers haven’t seen.”

 

“I can’t, Bob. I’m stuck with other things… I can’t come.”

 

“Peter, you have to.  I’m telling you, this is desperate.”

 

“I will if I can, Bob, but I can’t.”

 

“Peter, you need to be here.  There won’t be a company in a couple of days unless you can help.”

 

“I’ll do what I can, Bob,” I said, and I hung up the phone.

 

This was crazy.  I had been working at Coordination Engineering for years, had been one of the first people on board, and had been counting on that stock being worth something someday.  The management was good, the company had been growing steadily even in the market crunch, we had the right talent and the right product at the right time, and now it was gone like nothing… and all my work was for nothing, the stock was going to be worthless.  I tried summoning Monitor a couple of times, but wasn’t able to do it.

 

My phone beeped, and I took it out and saw that I had a message, and then I read the message:

 

Message from:  Core

We have Gwen.  Expect a call.