Media cameras zoom on Manos’s face.
“Dr. Andrews does not understand how the world works. Global warming is not the issue, and our fuel supplies are adequate. The matter here is our defense. We are at war with China and Russia, enemies who have profited from our complacency and short-sightedness. China is dominating the space race, expanding their Mars colony while we sit on our hands. Russia has seized the Arctic lands and amassed a territory twice the size of America. We’ve enabled our enemies to defeat us with our own technologies.”
Applause breaks out.
He shakes his finger. “Make no mistake. Google leads the world in information technology, communications, artificial intelligence and augmented reality. Advances in health care, space travel, and defense stem from our innovations. But for too long, China and Russia have used our technology free of charge to manipulate us. That must end starting today.”
The crowd cheers as camera flashes illuminate Manos on stage.
He lifts his fist in the air. “I propose a bold vision for the future. I motion to enact a new company policy that will restore profits starting today. It will take our company back to its glory and lead America to victory in World War III.”
Manos pauses as the applause roars. Someone yells, “We need new leadership!”
He motions for silence. “My premise is simple. Knowledge will no longer be free. As controller of the world’s data, Google must change the way it markets its core assets. We cannot give away our software. Web searches should come with a price tag. We will charge for information, and our enemies will pay the most. They’ll think twice before using our technologies against us.”
He raises his arms and the audience rises to its feet. “Google will finally profit from its groundbreaking products. It’s time to rise to greatness once again.”
Applause tears through the hall.
He shouts into the microphone. “America will emerge victorious when Google flexes its muscles. Decades ago, we led the world in innovation. New industries sprang from our artificial intelligence and augmented reality technologies, and our enemies got a free ride. We cannot stand by as they threaten our existence with our own tools. I move to lift our company back on its feet and drive forward. Let’s implement new measures that will make us strong. Let’s make Google great again!”
As the crowd cheers, Beth gives a hard stare to Thomas, who promptly grabs the microphone from Manos and escorts him from the platform.
“Order!” Thomas yells. “Please have a seat, Mr. Kharon. This concludes the keynote address. We will move on to the next session.”
Manos raises his hands as he leaves the stage. Applause rings out.
Thomas takes the podium and beams an infographic on the large screen. “The shareholders will now vote on three motions.”
Beth turns to the projection behind her.
Three motions? There are only two.
Thomas reads from the text. “Motion one is introduced by Board Member Manos Kharon.”
Beth turns and stares at her rival.
What are you doing?
Thomas advances the slide. “Motion one is entitled ‘Information Tariff.’ The motion will require Google to charge a fee for web search, software, and operating systems. Free distribution of information will be illegal. All Google software, including beta programs, must be priced on a sliding scale, with the enemies of America paying the highest cost.”
Beth stands. “Manos, this is dangerous. You’re threatening Google’s future.” She waves her arms in the air. “Folks, this will change our culture forever! A tax on information will cripple our economy. How will young people learn? Do not give in to the fear. This is not the way forward. Vote ‘no’ on this motion.”
Manos grins. “Let the people vote as they will.”
Beth walks towards the audience. “Colleagues, Google’s goal is to organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible. We became the largest corporation through innovation and risk taking, not with fear-mongering and deceptive business practices. Our founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, made our core mission to improve the lives of as many people as possible—”
“This isn’t the Google of 1999!” Manos shouts.
Beth frowns. “Mr. Kharon, your motion will provoke the enemy and intensify the War. They will retaliate with missiles and cyber viruses. The future belongs to those who transcend today’s shortcomings. We can be the agents of change. We can end the energy crisis and stop global warming. We can restore our profits and make the world a better place. Technology will lead the way. Do not change our mission!”
The room grows silent and Thomas continues. “Per policy of the Board of Directors, we will now vote on motion 1. Please use the touchscreen in front of you and select ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ You have twenty seconds to cast your choice.”
Beth’s face flushes as she sits back down. Through her smartglasses, she sends a message to Manos. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Manos replies moments later. “Something I should have done years ago.”
Whispers arise as a ten-second countdown appears on the screen. Sweat falls from Beth’s face. She scans the audience trying to make eye contact with her investors and analysts.
Don’t bring Google down.
The countdown ends.
Thomas hesitates as he reads the result. “…thank you for voting. The results are final—151 yes votes, 48 no votes. Motion 1, Information Tariff, is approved per policy of the Board of Directors.”
The crowd applauds, chanting “GoldRock! GoldRock!”
Manos stands and turns to the crowd. “It’s time to be a great company again. Let’s get to work!”
Beth wipes the sweat from her face, staring into the flooded streets of Manhattan.
Is this the end?
3.
AUSTIN RUSHES to his 10 a.m. A.I. department team meeting. Leaving the train station, he heads for the Google campus and crosses the employee parking lot, rushing past the executive helicopters. He cuts across empty stalls with idle electric car chargers, relics of an earlier era.
As he walks, he looks through the Vision smartglasses and clicks on a Mail icon. His inbox opens in his field of view. The device adjusts to his focus point, allowing him to read and see his surroundings at the same time. Ten new messages appear and one memo gets his attention. “Notice to Vacate.”
He clicks on it and the email opens. “Mr. Sanders, your apartment lease ends August 31 and you must leave your unit by the end of the month. A renewal is not possible at this time. We are glad to inform you that a condominium is available on the thirty-sixth floor. Please come to the leasing office for details and a tour of the unit.”
This is ridiculous. I am always moving to a higher floor.
Deleting the note, he enters the campus and jumps over a vandalized “Google” signboard, walking across a garden where robotic honeybees pollinate a sunflower test bed. He badges into the A.I. building and makes his way to the second-floor conference room, stopping to catch his breath.
He finds a single employee in the room. “Where is everyone?”
Anil Anaya, a junior programmer, looks up. “I have no idea, Dr. Sanders.”
“Late as usual,” Austin says as he takes a seat. He sends a message to his employees: “Where are you? Canceling meeting in five minutes.”
The room is quiet. Austin glances at his youngest associate. “How are you doing?”
Anil’s gaze drops. “Hanging in there.”
“You sound depressed, Anil.”