The CEO of UberCorp International was silent.
This did not bode well for the division heads in the call.
Silence meant unhappiness. Unhappiness meant judgement.
Cyber Khan was behind schedule.
“We are building to the original specifications that Engineering signed off on months ago,” said Production, desperately trying to pass the blame.
“Specs that did away with superfluous weight for better bipedal balance,” came Engineering’s reply, sticking to their guns as always.
“The tail saw is not superfluous!” barked Design, “It is an integral weapon system that was added to enhance the destructive properties of the entire package.”
Engineering snapped back, “Wasn’t this system originally designed as a protection unit? We all know that the tail saw has no anti-kaiju capabilities. It’ll only be useful in tearing down the city around it.”
“That’s not the only advantage we gain from keeping the original design,” piped up Marketing, “Small group research shows that the tail saw adds 18% to the design’s intimidation factors, and 27% to memorability.”
“It’s a 60 meter tall robotic dinosaur!” called out Engineering. “It’s already intimidating and memorable without a pointless ten meter chunk of spinning metal affixed to the tail!”
“The tail saw was part of the initial design specs,” came from Design.
“If you keep the tail saw, the jump jets’ fuel reserves will be enough for six jumps, tops. That’s not enough mobility to last an entire battle,” rebutted Engineering.
Operations spoke up, “This bickering isn’t helping us hit the market any sooner. We need a resolution today or our counter demonstration at the GUARD parade will feature nothing but the Carnitron drones.”
“This is the flagship product,” Marketing chimed in, “in the whole Monsterpocalypse Response Mech line. If we don’t make a splash in the news cycle then no municipalities will order their own copy of the system.”
“And we need to secure those sales,” added Finance, “since the whole company is riding on these MRMs.”
Engineering was outraged. “Are you seriously telling me that you want to increase collateral damage, decrease flight capability, and throw off the mech’s entire center of balance because it will ‘look cool’ and might increase sales?!?”
“Yes,” cut through the argument effortlessly.
Silence.
The CEO had spoken.
“The tail saw will be reintegrated into the tail unit. Engineering and Production will run double shifts to make up for the lost time.”
Finance coughed politely before speaking up, “That overtime will add billions to the development costs and we’re already strapped for capital as it is.”
“That’s immaterial.”
Silence descended again before the CEO continued.
“Let me make this perfectly clear to all of you. This product is not just a product. It is a completely new approach to this crisis. No one will be content to rely upon the whims of overstretched governments that might not respond to their pleas for help. Every city on earth will want their own MRM on standby. This system must be on time. Trillions of dollars are at stake. We can corner the market on the Monsterpocalypse and turn a profit from selling survival to a grateful populace. Now cease your bickering, do your jobs, and get Cyber Khan built, running, and combat ready before the deadline.”
After the chorus of affirmations and sign offs, the CEO of UCI smiled.
“After all, there’s money to be made.”
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Arisu Kaneko, PhD, MD, Nobel Laureate, and scientific living legend, was annoyed.
"The Board" as they called themselves, droned on, unconcerned with her annoyance. They were debating whether to deploy assets in South America. A patently ridiculous idea, she reflected, since there would be no advantages (martial, material, or in the media) to be found in combating the Terrasaur threat at this early stage.
She drummed her immaculate nails on the burmese blackwood table of the board room, and fervently wished that this collection of powerful criminals would finish their incessant yammering so that she could get back to her lab.
As if to grant her wish, silence descended. Glancing up, Dr. Kaneko could see that all the holograms of the various board members were looking at her. This board of a dozen powerful humans, controlling roughly a fifth of the world's wealth, tastefully garbed in impeccable clothing meant to demonstrate their funds and power, could meet any time they needed thanks to her, and her apparition hologram system. They all needed the same hundred million dollar sensor/projection array, and identical rooms within which to deploy it, but money was no obstacle to them. Ever.
As this cabal of corporate and criminal royalty stared at her across continents, her eidetic memory replayed the last 30 seconds of debate and the question that had been put to her. She didn't need the six seconds she let the silence linger to craft her response, but she took it anyway to relish, relax, and ready herself for the idiocy she was about to address. .
"Yes, we could deploy Zor-Raiden to Argentina. Given the sub-orbital ramjet capability at our disposal, I'd estimate less than three hours between a vote here and deployment to the combat zone. But you've seen the demonstrations. You're not asking me about logistics that we all know are beneath us. You're asking me a different question. You're asking me, 'is he ready? Correct?"
"Yes," her questioner begrudgingly answered.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Board," how she hated that ridiculous self-appointed name, " Your money has not been wasted. Your assets will be protected from this, 'Monsterpocalypse,' as the press insists on calling it. We can, and will, crush anything or anyone who moves to take from us. I can assure you that my Zors are the pinnacle of human ingenuity.. They are perfect. Blending nanotechnology, biological mutation, advanced materials and weapons technology to create beings unparalleled in the history of the world. They walk this earth as monsters but they are still human at heart. They owe everything to us. Zor-Raiden is ready. Yes. But I have a question in return. Is this deployment necessary?"
The Board erupted into consternated shouts. They had just been discussing that very point. Battle lines were beginning to be drawn again. Arguments were starting to be rehashed. Chaos and tedium would reign once more.
Dr. Kaneko would allow none of that. She pressed a button and at the center of the table a holographic globe appeared. In the brief moment of recognition and acceptance, she struck.
"The Terrasaur Terra Khan is already within Argentina. It moves, even now, toward the Planet Eater Gorghadra that advances towards the coastline. Their battle will be completed within half a day, leaving nothing but devastation and ruin in their wake. Zor-Raiden's presence would accomplish nothing, but the cost to us would be surprisingly substantial."
Her hand pressed another button and a dozen spots on the globe lit up.
"These are much more likely battlegrounds The latest predictive models show these cities as being the pre-eminent target sites for invasion by either Martian or Cthulian sources. If we ignore those that have disposable concerns..."
Another button snuffed out half of the global hotspots.
"And those that GUARD is properly deployed to defend..."
The last spot on the spinning globe glowed angry red.
” You can see where a Zor must be deployed before the battle commences.”
The board member who had put the question to her earlier spoke up. "You think yourself very clever, Dr. Kaneko."
"Oh?" she replied offhandedly. This reaction was not unexpected.
" You planned your little light show to win you the votes you need to press your own agenda. Well the Shadow Sun is a Syndicate, Dr. Kaneko. And I, for one, will not fall for your trick."
"Trick? This is not a trick. This is an explanation.
"What? "
" Perhaps I should have led with that,” she said, mostly to herself. “Members of the Board. On my authority as head of research and development on the Zor project, I have deployed Zor-Maxim and a full complement of battle shinobi to New York for combat trials. I expect them to be engaged in giant monster combat within the day."
"You cannot do that, doctor! . None of your little science projects can cross the pacific without my approval. I will personally block your transfer!"
" You should have made that threat when I actually deployed them. Last week."
The Board sat in stunned silence. The globe at the center of their myriad identical tables spun half a rotation before the angry red glow centered on New York city began to pulse. Flat screens began to appear in the hologram, news reports full of blurry images of Cthulian minions. Reporters breaking into yells about eldritch horrors pouring across the river from New Jersey. Bright red text rolled across the bottom of the screens with the headline, 'Monsterpocalypse comes to NYC!'
Dr. Kaneko smiled. Her predictive model had been accurate to within 13 minutes.
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