The Last Network - Chapter 4
She was sitting in an Adirondack by the fire pit. An open bottle of cab rested against the chair. One sandal was on the grass, the other dangling from her toes. The Pacific sun reflected off the water holding her in a golden embrace.
It had been a long time since Rabbit had seen Kendra Godfrey, and she looked all the better for it.
He peered down from the stone patio and studied her. Something was different about the Ice Queen of AI. He remembered her as a tightly wound metronome, constantly tapping. Sometimes her pencil, other times her heel, but never a still moment. Maybe it was the situation? Their last time together was cooped up in a conference room. Now she reminded him of a calico cat curled around a big glass of red wine.
He waited and watched, sipping his scotch. They were here for a golf tournament. Rabbit played, but usually skipped the corporate events. With the Israeli job still weeks from wrapping up, he had time to kill and wanted to get out of town. Half Moon Bay was a favorite retreat, and he needed the nights to make Platinum Elite.
A mountain of a man walked up from the putting green and gave her a lover’s kiss. Malcolm DuBour. He had no idea they were together. Rabbit smiled, so the past and present of outsourcing were an item, very interesting. He’d once gone to dinner with Malcolm in Vegas. It was a tough meal.
Malcolm had five kids, Rabbit none. Malcolm loved yachts, Rabbit thought boats a waste. Malcolm supported Man City. Rabbit only had eyes for the Lakers. On and on it went, until some emergency or the other pulled Malcolm away. Rabbit had heard rumors about the man; he was supposed to be a fixer of some sort. It was the type of skill one needed to do business in all those remote shit holes. Bags of cash, no-show jobs, favors for favors. Enough about Malcolm; Rabbit wasn’t interested in the man in the Nantucket Reds. Kendra, on the other hand, had just what he needed.
He watched as the giant sauntered off, pitching wedge over his shoulder. Rabbit saw his opening and walked down the stairs.
“Kendra Godfrey, as I live and breathe.”
“Is that Rabbit Wilson? Wow, it’s been awhile.”
“The one, the only. You here for the Guardian?” he asked.
“Sure am. You too?”
“Yup. So, you and Malcolm, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised, you always had a type.” He sat down next to Kendra.
“He keeps me entertained, we’ll leave it there. Now Rabbit, I heard you walked out of Smash House just like that. What is going on with you?” she asked.
“I’m on to the next thing and I need some help.”
“Now you are speaking my language. Give it to me.”
He watched as she dropped her other sandal and perched on the edge of her chair. Her right hand started swirling her glass of wine. Round and round it went until a slow vortex formed in the middle. Nothing had changed with Kendra, she had been in the off mode and now Rabbit had turned her on.
“I’m striking out on my own. Consumer internet, very edgy, self-funded,” he said.
“How big?”
“It has the potential to be huge. Truly transformative. I don’t want to say too much right now, I’m waiting for my proto to be completed, but I’ll give you one word. Teleportation.”
“Teleportation?” she asked
“Yes. I call it Peared. None of that sci-fi bullshit. I’m not beaming people up or down. I’m giving people a way to see the world through another’s eyes. I’m giving them the ability to do a lot more than that.”
“Now I’m intrigued. You need NAM for this?”
“Yes. I need a partner to run the service. Someone who isn’t afraid to bring out the old school tactics. I need someone who can press people’s buttons,” he said.
“You want FriendZone rules?” she asked.
“FriendZone rules,” he answered. Kendra took a long slow sip of wine. A smile spread across her face as she sat back down in the chair.
FriendZone Rules was shorthand for the addictive design practices the social network perfected a decade ago. Get people hooked, then reward them with drips of dopamine delivered through never-ending notifications. It was the old way of doing things, when the goal was to keep people on for as long as possible, to make as much as possible through any means possible. After years of scandal and bad press, most companies had moved past that and signed onto the Silicon Valley Code of Conduct. NAM was an exception.
“I’ve been dying to play that game again, only everyone else has been too scared to. I’ve got just the guy you need. He’s young, but he’s got that thing. A real operator. You’ll love him. I have dinner plans tonight, then I’m busy after.” He smiled and traced her finger down the arm of the Adirondack. “I can do breakfast. Meet me in the morning? I’ll have Paolo come down from HQ so you can meet him too.”
“Breakfast sounds great.”
Rabbit gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and wandered back to the bar. She was hungry for the work. He wasn’t surprised. NAM had invented the hybrid AI/offshore model a decade ago. Every aging internet company turned to her to slash payroll and wring the very last dollars out of their fading dinosaurs. Match.com, Cars Direct, Yahoo. All were early clients. Kendra’s company took control of each and followed the same playbook. Fire everyone, then have NAM’s combination of AIs and cheap foreign labor run the show.
The thing is, Kendra lacked tact. She cut too hard, too deep, and she failed to change tactics when the rest of the industry got a conscience. Instead of reading the tea leaves and playing more ethically, Kendra took FriendZone’s dark patterns, addictive tactics, and perfected them. The better the machines got, the fewer people she employed. Now it was nearly all AIs and evil wizards who were master manipulators. Big name clients got scared of associating their brands with NAM’s reputation and bookings fell. Now they were on the outs and in need of a marquee client.
Rabbit didn’t give a shit about their rep. Kendra had been the smartest person in their incubator program. She could produce like no other. Even better, she’d have to deliver. Her future as NAM’s CEO hung in the balance.