Out of the Shadows 033
A 5-star machine-augmented MIDNIGHT'S WAR novel
“Jesus Christ,” Immy muttered once they were gone. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Elliott sank back into his chair. “It’s far more complicated than I can possibly explain.”
“Then don’t bother. I’m far too busy to care. Since when do you need two assistants? And since when do you only work nights? And since when…” Immy trailed off, studying Elliott with the sharp intelligence that made him such a good CFO. “You’re different. It’s not just the schedule or the new girlfriend or whatever she is. You’re fundamentally different.”
“The last few weeks have been transformative,” Elliott said carefully.
“That’s one word for it.” Immy moved to the window, looking out at the glittering lights of the Bay Area. “The attack in New York. That was Blackrock, wasn’t it.”
Elliott considered his options. How much could he tell Immy? How much did he already know? “No. It wasn’t Blackrock.”
“And these European investors—they’re not just bringing money, are they? They’re bringing protection. A whole new world of complications.” Immy turned back to face him. “I’ve been in this game a long time, Elliott. I’ve seen deals that happen in daylight and deals that happen in shadows. This feels very much like the latter.”
“And if it is?”
Immy was quiet for a long moment. “Then I need to know if HemaTech is still the company we built together, or if it’s becoming something else.”
“It’s evolving,” Elliott admitted. “The research continues, the core mission remains the same—extending human life. But the methods, the applications, the partnerships, and the short-term objectives… yes, those are definitely changing.”
“Becoming more selective, you mean. More exclusive.” Immy’s expression was troubled. “We always talked about democratizing longevity, Elliott. Making it available to everyone, not just the elite.”
“That was naive of us,” Elliott said, hating how cold he sounded. “Think about it, Immy. Revolutionary technology always begins with the elite. Cars, CD players, computers, cell phones—everything world-changing begins as a luxury before manufacturing efficiencies eventually permit distribution to the masses.”
“This is different and you know it. We’re not talking about consumer goods. We’re talking about who gets to live longer and who doesn’t!” Immy returned to his chair, his movements heavy with exhaustion. “But I suppose that’s a philosophical debate for another time. Right now, we need to discuss more practical matters.”
For the next hour, they went through the immediately pressing issues—cash flow, research progress, staff concerns, investor relations. Elliott found he could still engage with the business side of things, could still feel the familiar thrill of building something revolutionary. But underneath it all was the awareness of how much had changed, how many secrets now lay between him and his oldest business partner.
“One more thing,” Immy said as they wrapped up. “Your new hours—it’s going to affect more than just meetings. What about lab work? Presentations? Board interactions?”
“We’ll adapt,” Elliott said firmly. “Presentations can be recorded, the lab work will be delegated. As for the board…” He smiled thinly. “I haven’t announced it yet, but aside from you and me, the board will now consist entirely of Medici’s representatives. Since they’re mostly in Italy and Asia, I doubt they’ll object to evening meetings scheduled on their overlap.”
Immy absorbed this final confirmation that HemaTech was no longer truly independent. “I see. And my position in this new structure?”
“Unchanged. They expect you to stay on as CFO. They respect you. But I’ll understand if you decide this isn’t what you signed up for.”
“It’s not,” Immy said bluntly. “But neither was Theranos, and those guys stayed until the bitter end. Besides,” he managed a weak smile, “someone needs to keep you grounded. Even if you have gone full vampire on me.”
Elliott froze. “What did you say?”
“Oh, come on. Night hours, Foreign investors with unlimited money, a new security team that moves like panthers, a new assistant who is too beautiful to be real?” Immy shook his head. “I’m not stupid, Elliott, and I have a very active imagination. But however you sold your soul, whatever bargain you’ve made, I just hope you remember what we set out to build here.”
“I remember,” Elliott said quietly. “The question is whether it’s still possible to build it.”
“Anything’s possible,” Immy said, standing to leave. “The question is what you’re willing to sacrifice for it. But then again, looking at you now, I suspect you’ve already made that choice.”
“Thank you, Immy.” Elliott smiled. “I know you’ve got a lot of questions, questions that I can’t answer now. But one day, I promise you, I will.”
“It’s good to see you, Elliott.” Uncharacteristically, Immy put out his hand and the two men shook. Elliott was pleased to observe that his old friend’s pulse was barely elevated at all.
After Immy left, Elliott sat alone in his office, surrounded by the familiar trappings of his mortal life. Everything was seemingly the same—the awards on the walls, the pictures on his desk, the view of the Bay—and yet nothing was. He realized that he was merely playing at being human in a space that had once been as natural to him as breathing.
A soft knock interrupted his brooding. Chiara entered, looking none the worse for her encounter with Natalie.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“I believe we’ve reached an understanding. She’ll continue with her professional duties and I’ll handle the new requirements of your changed situation. I doubt we’ll ever be friends, but neither of us will murder the other.” She smiled a sardonic little smile. “It’s pretty clear that she’s been in love with you for some time and she views me as an unexpected interloper who has stolen her rightful prey.”
“And have you?”
Chiara slid around around the desk, perching on its edge with casual grace. “That depends entirely on you. You are the master. I can certainly be your executive assistant and maintain all the appropriate professional boundaries with you.”
“Or?”
“Or I can be what I want to be. I can be yours.” She reached out, her warm fingers tracing the cool line of his jaw. “The question is whether you’re ready for that complication on top of everything else.”
Elliott caught her hand, marveling at the warmth of her skin against his, the pulsing of the blood through the large vein in her throat. “There is nothing about my life that is uncomplicated anymore.”
“Then perhaps,” she said, leaning closer, “one more complication won’t matter.”
Out of the Shadows is available in Kindle, KU, audibook, and hardcover editions.