Chapter 14 – Declan

 

I had no idea why I would be invited to a board meeting of the Demidova Corp, but I was interested. Who wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall of the world’s newest Wall Street wonder?

 

The board room was almost over the top. Huge, polished table dominating a massive room with plush carpeting, expensive vases and sculptures around the perimeter, one whole wall clad in hand-fitted sheets of dark green marble, the name of the company in ten-inch-tall gold-plated letters against the deep, rich marble.

 

Twelve chairs encircled the table, five per side with one at each end. A separate desk with mounted monitor and keyboard sat just adjacent to one end of the table, and Lydia was settling herself into its chair. Tanya’s spot as Chairman and CEO was the end seat nearest Lydia’s secretary’s desk. At least that’s what the little cheat sheet that Lydia had made me said.

 

The single page of copier paper had a rough sketch of the room drawn out, with names and notes for each position. Based on some of her written comments, I was interested to see what these people were like. I sat in a small group of chairs that occupied the same side of the room as the mini fridge, sink, and espresso maker, which was a statement on the importance of caffeine for the oversight of a multi-billion-dollar company.

 

The Demidova Corp had exploded onto the international finance scene immediately after the Battle of Washington. With the massive spotlight of global attention that had been focused on Chris and Tanya, their company had received almost as much media coverage as they had.

 

From what I knew, the company had offices around the world and operated as a diversified group of businesses that were radically different. Apparently, Tanya had formed it from businesses she had already owned, accumulated during her silent teenage years. Chris had mentioned on many occasions that she was a business prodigy, with a razor-sharp mind and trip wire instincts for making deals. As the anointed prophetic figure of the Darkkin world, she had been receiving massive gifts of wealth since birth. Her mother, another business prodigy, had given her free rein to invest her own money, and invest she did.

 

The skeleton of the company was a real estate empire that owned offices in London and Hong Kong, shale deposits in Texas and South Dakota, and apartment complexes around the world. It was accessorized by nanotech startups in Germany, Japan, and upstate New York, a software company in Ireland, biotech research facilities in Israel, France, and Germany, and a Chinese solar panel production plant that she somehow owned a majority of in Beijing.

 

The IPO had been this year’s most anticipated event on Wall Street, and every investor on the planet had wanted in on the company owned, started and run by God’s own power couple. The price of the stock had rocketed to stratospheric heights purely on the momentum generated by the constant replay of the Battle. Analysts had discussed the solid cash flow generated by the real estate and energy plays while speculating on the possibilities of the biotech innovations that vampire biology was sure to provide and, of course, the firm’s unique ability to clean up extra-dimensional incursions of the demonic kind. They charged pretty heavy for those, at least to large, developed nations that had engaged in the kind of particle physics experimentation that had been proven to erode the space-time barriers across the multiverse we had found ourselves in. Smaller, less wealthy countries got discounts—big discounts. Corporations engaged in similar particle physics activities got really large bills for their ectoplasmic cleanup costs.

 

The result of all this was a unique group of board members, most of whom were beginning to enter the room now. Lydia had helpfully stapled a printout of the boards' photos and bios taken from the company website so I could attach names to faces.

 

The rows of extra seating in front of me filled up with department heads and other corporate officers, each giving me a curious glance or nod, depending upon if we had met during my rune drawing activities or not. Someone sat in the seat next to mine, but I didn’t look over, instead glancing from my cheat sheet to the board table.

 

The attractive pale brunette who sat to Tanya’s right was her mother, Galina Demidova. She looked maybe thirty, but was older than the United States. She was focused on her tablet, her white finger flipping through pages at an unlikely speed.

 

On the other side of Tanya’s seat, a tall, wide-shouldered man in his early thirties, with dark hair and dark eyes, sat staring at the table directly in front of him, almost like he was meditating. I looked at the chart and found his name—Brock Mallek, CEO of Lupine Industries. The connection came to me a moment later. He was the Alpha of the New York Pack, which Stacia belonged to. Lydia’s notes indicated he had been a friend to Chris since my mentor had arrived in the Big Apple several years ago. Maybe he was meditating; it would be a good idea. Keep that werewolf temper in hand and all that. Maybe Delwood could learn it. Ha!

 

Next to Mallek was a twenty-something with a smug look and expensive watch. He was dressed much more casually than anyone else in the room, but his casual attire probably cost more than my laptop. Dustin Cryor, founder of Crytech Cybersecurity, Incorporated. I was familiar with his company, which had had almost as meteoric a rise as Tanya’s. We studied his software in class, and the professor had been an unabashed fanboy of Cryor’s.

 

Across from Cryor, sitting next to Galina, was another vampire. Ian Smitwick, a British investor, who, Lydia’s notes indicated, had his fingers in many pies around the world. I looked up from my notes to get a visual on him and found myself staring at a pair of pale, ice blue eyes. Immediately, I broke eye contact and went back to looking at my pages, although my eyes didn’t see a single word. He had been studying me while I had been reading about him. Was he like Nika? A telepath? Without conscious thought, I felt my mental shields solidify and lock down. When I looked up, I deliberately looked to his side, where an Indian vampire sat. I could still feel Smitwick’s eyes on me for a moment longer while I read about Dr. Raj Singh, board member and Chief Medical Officer of Demidova Inc. The Brit vamp’s stare was almost like a pressure on my senses. Abruptly, it let up and when I allowed my gaze to traverse Smitwick, he was engaged in conversation with Galina. I let out a tiny sigh of relief. The person sitting next to me snorted softly and when I glanced her way, I found Katrina sitting there, smirking.

 

“Yo Trina,” I said softly. She smiled in an unsettling way, more predatory than friendly, but that was par for the course with her. I had learned to ignore it at College Arcane.

 

“Trying to hide out in the back row again, O’Carroll?” she asked. “Not working, is it?”

 

“Not a hundred percent, no,” I said. “How about you? Got a speaking part in this show?”

 

“If called on,” she allowed, settling down to inspecting her glittering, razor sharp nails as if they could actually break or chip.

 

After a moment, I went back to my cheat sheet. A human sat next to Dr. Singh, a tall male named Dr. Wade Pitcairn, Columbia professor, which seemed an odd choice for a board member till I read that he taught classes in folklore, theology, and occult myths and legends. The end chair was Chris’s, and next to him sat yet another Doctor, Dieter Bernhard, PhD. Doctorate in Applied Nanotechnology.

 

The board member next to Dr. Bernhard was a female vampire with brown hair and scars on the side of her neck and face. The list had her as Alexandra Vincent, Outer Guard. There was no other explanation.

 

Two of the twelve chairs remained open, even as Tanya came in, conferred with Lydia, and then claimed her own. Lydia’s notes left them blank.

 

“I’ll call the board to order,” Tanya said softly, instantly silencing the chatter in the room.

 

“You’ve all received the minutes from the last meeting on your tablets. Any questions or corrections?” she asked.

 

The cyber guy, Cryor, raised one hand, speaking when Tanya nodded at him.

 

“Under Mr. Aikens’ report on computer security… or rather a lack thereof, I believe, I’ve been misquoted. It says here Mr. Cryor asked about the extent of the measures taken, noting that Crytech had not been one of the security companies utilized. I believe I wasn’t noting so much as asking why my firm, arguably the leading cybersecurity provider on the planet, hadn’t been involved,” he said, a smirk flickering across his lips.

 

“Lydia?” Tanya asked, even as her tiny vampire administrator started typing instructions at improbable speeds on her keyboard.

 

A massive screen descended from the ceiling along with a matching high-grade projector. Footage appeared, obviously of this very room, with a date stamp from a month earlier. The footage fast forwarded in bursts, then abruptly stopped. Cryor was shown, his face serious, hand fisted on the table in front of him.

 

“I see a rather lengthy list of my competitors here and yet nothing of the industry leader, Crytech?” the projected Dustin Cryor asked.

 

“Semantics, possibly, but let’s change noted to asked,” Tanya instructed Lydia, who nodded sharply.

 

“So noted,” Lydia said with the tiniest twitch of her lips.

 

“Satisfied, Dustin?” Tanya asked.

 

“With the correction? Yes. With the explanation given? Not so much. This company is burning capital at an unsustainable rate, operations disrupted and frozen by overt hacking and DDoS attacks, and you are not utilizing the best weapon you could have—me. That seems… negligent,” the smarmy little bastard said. I’d been here five minutes and already the villains were self-evident.

 

“Ah, well, reading further in the minutes, you’ll note that management’s answer was that we were avoiding a potential conflict of interest while pursuing other solutions,” Tanya replied.

 

“And how’s that going for you?” he asked, extremely self-satisfied.

 

“If you would allow her to complete the agenda in order, we might all find out,” Brock Mallek said, his deep voice almost a growl. I sat up a little. When a werewolf uses that tone, it’s best to pay attention.

“Exactly. If we could get a motion on the corrected minutes, we can proceed to the next order of business, which so happens to be Chet’s CIO report,” Tanya said.

 

“I’ll make the motion to accept the minutes,” Galina said.

 

“Second,” Dr. Singh said.

 

“All in favor?” Tanya asked, getting a chorus of ayes. “All opposed?” she asked again, with only silence for an answer. “So carried.”

 

“Chet, would you be good enough to put us out of our misery?” she asked.

 

The skinny computer honcho was sitting in the front row of chairs in my section and now he stood up and confidently walked to the projector screen, where a Powerpoint presentation had replaced the recorded footage of the last meeting.

 

He turned and faced the board, the screen next to him changing to show the first slide—titled Systems Status.

 

“As of six p.m. yesterday, all headquarter systems have been declared secure. As of midnight, last night, all secondary and tertiary systems as well as our satellite assets have also been secured. All exploits, malware, viruses, and repudiation attacks have been stopped and cleared from our systems. DDoS attacks continue but have failed since midnight. Operations as of today’s date have resumed under normal conditions, worldwide,” Chet said, a matching bullet point appearing on the slide for each of his declarations.

 

The vampires were harder to read but the humans and the Alpha werewolf were clearly impressed, although Cryor’s expression bordered on disbelief.

 

“How did you achieve that?” Dr. Singh asked.

 

“The intern program bore exceptional fruit. A small subgroup of our summer computer interns, under my supervision, put together some rather revolutionary software that was able to cleanse our computers and continues to successfully protect them from further attacks,” Chet said.

 

“What about our financial assets held at other institutions?” Galina asked.

 

“We’re in the process of reconciling those accounts, matching our now-recovered records to theirs. It may take some time to completely clear up, but the process is moving forward. Accounts held in our subsidiary bank are fine,” Tanya said. “The finance department is again issuing invoices and working with our vendors and customers to expedite payment of all the older accounts receivables that we haven’t been able to bill out. It’ll take some time to clear up, but our resources and contingent lines of credit are sufficient to get us over the hump. In short, we’re back in business,” Tanya said with a slight smile.

 

“You achieved all this with a few interns?” Cryor asked, expression incredulous.

 

“Essentially,” Tanya said. “And they shall remain nameless for the time being. Our operations are just now restored and our security is paramount. Whoever is behind these attacks has broken dozens of laws with complete disregard. I don’t want any of our people exposed to attack or kidnapping,” Tanya said.

 

“But surely the board members can be privy to this information?” Cryor protested.

 

“Why, so you can try to recruit them?” Brock asked.

 

Cryor shrugged. “Because management answers to the board and we should be kept apprised.”

 

“There are multiple security considerations here,” Chris said. “Security for the firm, for our personnel, and for you all as board members. We are closing in on the source of the attacks, but the enemy’s ability to penetrate systems and devices is unparalleled. None of you have secured systems, including you, Dustin. So you are all potential security risks until we can provide our new software to protect your own digital security. Plus, this technology is revolutionary and we haven’t fully explored the potential profitability of it.”

 

“Which is exactly the reason I should be brought into the loop on it. Who better to assess its potential than the founder of the world’s top cyber security firm?”

Cryor asked.

 

“Actually, Dustin, this application bears almost no resemblance to current technology. No offense, but you won’t even be able to read it,” Chet said. Cryor looked like a volcano getting ready to burst.

 

“Ah, would I be correct in surmising that the technology in question is more paranormal than not?” Ian Smitwick asked before Cryor could explode.

 

“You would be exactly correct, Ian,” Tanya said. “A combination of old knowledge with new to block a digital enemy that can’t be stopped by the current state of the art in cybersec. And before you have an aneurism, Dustin, that includes your technology. We have one of your protected netbooks that Chet has been looking over, and it was suborned as rapidly as any other computer in the place.”

 

“I’m guessing then that not all your interns come from name-recognition institutions?” Ian asked.

 

“Again, you are correct,” Tanya said. “We will explain all of this, but we need some additional time to lock down our current advantage, which is tenuous.”

 

“I, for one, will be dying to hear all about these new discoveries,” Dieter Bernhard said with only a trace of accent.

“And hear about it you will. Again, we will need to make sure your personal systems are all protected first, though,” Tanya said.

 

“I’m not even getting a signal on my Android,” Dieter noted, frowning at his phone.

 

Katrina tapped my leg with one finger, then tilted her tablet so that I could read the message on the screen, which said it was from Tanya.

 

Is that our wards blocking his phone?

 

I nodded to Katrina and her fingers flew in swift answer.

 

“And you won’t unless we let up on the protections we’ve put in place,” Tanya said, looking up from her own tablet.

 

Smitwick poured himself a glass of water from the bottle of Evian that each of them had at their places, glancing up to catch me watching him. He raised one eyebrow slightly at me and then sipped his water.

 

He knows about me… or guesses, somehow, I thought. Katrina tapped my leg again and showed me the sentence that she had herself typed for my view.

 

Smitwick is crazy sharp at observing his surroundings… it’s his vamp power.

 

I nodded my understanding to her and returned my attention to the main drama.

 

“You are doing us a great disservice by not telling us at least the name and origin of this malware,” Dustin said.

 

“It may seem that way, but in actuality, we’re doing you a huge service in not telling you. See, the enemy is the software… an autonomous program that has left its cage and is out of its handler’s grasp,” Chris said.

 

“That’s absurd. Nobody has anything that advanced. I would know,” Dustin said.

 

“They do—or at least they did, and this software tends to protect itself, which is why you haven’t heard about it,” Chris said.

 

“Can we go back to the part about mixing old knowledge with new?” the professor, Pitcairn, asked. “Can we at least hear a bit more about that?”

 

“I can tell you that it’s right up your alley, Wade,” Chris said.

 

“Are you talking about Crafting? You have a practitioner on staff?” Pitcairn asked.

 

“We do,” Chris said.

“Crafting? What the hell is that? What’s a practitioner?” Cryor demanded.

 

“He’s talking about an individual who can mold reality to her or his wishes,” Smitwick said. “The terms you might apply to such an individual are wizard, sorcerer, or witch.”

 

“You’ve never been partial to Crafters?” Brock asked, looking specifically at Chris.

 

“There are always exceptions, Brock,” Chris said.

 

“Does this have to do with that joint education project with the government’s Oracle group?” Galina asked. “That was a rather expensive line item, if I recall.”

 

“One that has obviously borne fruit if it has resulted in the resumption of profit generation,” Smitwick said.

 

“Hold on. You’re saying you have a Harry Potter or Hermione Granger on staff, that you recruited him or her from some kind of Hogworts that we’ve been funding and he or she wrote a new computer language?” Cryor asked, half-exasperated and half-incredulous.

 

“Essentially accurate, if a bit heavy on the pop culture,” Tanya said.

 

“When can I meet her?” Pitcairn asked.

 

“Her? How do you know it’s a female?” Brock asked.

 

“I, too, desire to meet this individual,” Smitwick said, glancing my way.

 

“Despite all the fiction, the best practitioners of the Craft are the witch families, and magic appears to be stronger in females,” Pitcairn said to Brock.

 

He knows nothing of strength, Sorrow said. I was intrigued that Pitairn knew as much about witches as he did.

 

“We’ll tell you more when your phones and tablets have been protected,” Chris said.

 

“How soon can that be done?” Pitcairn asked.

 

“If you want to stay after the meeting, we will see what we can do,” Tanya said after exchanging a look with Chris.

 

“Can you at least tell me what family or country she’s descended from?” Pitcairn asked.

 

Again, there was an exchange of looks and then Chris spoke. “The Irwins of Ireland.”

Pitcairn sucked a breath, eyes widening. “Really? Fascinating,” he said.

 

“I was going to guess Ireland,” Smitwick said. “The features are rather self-evident.”

 

“What do you mean? Have you already met her?” Pitcairn asked.

 

“No Wade. I just pay great attention to my environment is all,” Smitwick said, then turned to look straight at me.

 

Brock turned to see where Smitwick was looking and found me immediately. His nostrils flared and he nodded to himself. The others turned and looked around the seated crowd, Pitcairn looking right past me.

 

Tanya sighed. “Thank you, Ian, for preempting our secret,” she said sarcastically.

 

“Oh heavens. If you wanted him secret, you knew better than to bring him in here and, besides, you’ve already indicated that this room is protected from the enemy’s surveillance,” Smitwick said, completely unconcerned.

 

“Him?” Pitcairn asked.

 

“Declan, would you please stand up?” Chris asked, looking as exasperated as Tanya.

 

Katrina poked me when I didn’t move quick enough, leaving me rubbing my side as I stood in place.

 

“Meet Declan O’Carroll—sophomore at College Arcane, computer science major, creator of the Wytchwar Games, and our ace card,” Chris said.

 

“But he’s a he?” Pitcairn sputtered.

 

“Excellent observation, old boy,” Smitwick said.

 

“His mother was Maeve Irwin, if that means anything to you, Wade,” Chris said.

 

Pitcairn sucked in another sharp breath and looked at me with surprised eyes.

 

“None of this means anything to me,” Cryor said, studying me like I was a mildly disgusting bug.

 

“Ahh,” Brock said, at which Pitcairn’s head snapped around.

 

“You know who Maeve Irwin is… was?” the professor asked the werewolf.

 

“No, but I’ve heard a lot about this young man from one of my pa…people. She’s mentioned you, young man,” Brock said, the first to speak directly to me.

 

“She enjoys beating me up and calling it teaching,” I said, noticing that he stopped himself from saying the word pack. The whole room was watching me, and I didn’t much care for it.

 

“Thank you, Declan,” Tanya said. “There will be time to talk to Declan after we conclude the meeting. Now perhaps we can call on Dr. Singh for an update on our biotech endeavors?”

 

I sat down and listened as Singh started to speak about successful drug trials in India and Thailand with tumor reductions and outright eradication of cancerous cells. The meeting resumed, but Pitcairn kept stealing glances at me and Smitwick just met my eyes and raised one eyebrow sardonically before looking to his tablet.

 

All in all, my first exposure to a board-level meeting in a major company was enlightening. Somehow, I hadn’t anticipated how much personality wrangling Tanya and Chris would have to do to run their company. What else was this summer going to teach me?