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was present by 7.55 p.m. - twenty men and one woman.
Carl opened the meeting at 8 p.m. sharp and got straight down to business. At
8.15 p.m. the buyout consortium was wound up and the business of the
reconstituted company opened with Carl as acting chairman.
After the formal share transfer, the solicitors acting for both sides
withdrew. Beverley intervened as planned with her proposal that the company
combine the roles of chairman and managing director. Carl seconded it and, to
Beverley's astonishment, her motion was accepted without argument and passed
on a unanimous vote.
'In that case,' said Carl, making a note on his agenda. 'I am now calling for
nominations for chairman and managing
director.' 'I propose Miss Beverley Laine,' said Theodore Draggon
promptly.
There were five seconders but Carl got in first.
For the rest of her life Beverley would relive those moments, trying to recall
her shock and disorientation. It seemed that a trapdoor had opened beneath
her. But instead of falling, she was floundering weightlessly like a stunned
astronaut, not knowing which way was up or down.
'Any other nominations?'
Someone said: 'Carl Olivera.' Dear God, it was her voice.
" Seconded by?'
There were no takers.
'All those in favour of Miss Beverley Laine becoming chairman and managing
director of Nano Systems?'
Eighteen hands went up. Beverley was supposed to count them but she seemed to
be paralyzed. Carl counted them
instead. 'Eighteen in favour,' he reported. He was smiling at Beverley
but she could only stare dumbly back at him. 'All those against?' Silence.
'Eighteen in favour, none against, and one abstention,' Carl
reported. 'Miss Laine is our new boss.'
There was a burst of applause and cheers. Tears pricked Beverley's eyes when
she saw that Theodore Draggon was clapping more vigorously than anyone while
grinning broadly at her bewildered expression. Someone nudged her. She rose to
her feet. In response to cries of 'speech' she managed to blurt out some words
of acceptance that she was unable to recall later. Carl relinquished his seat
and made everyone move along so that he was at Beverley's side when she took
her place at the top of the table. It was a supportive gesture that would set
the seal on their later relationship: Carl would always be at her side.
'Nominations for company secretary,' he whispered.
Despite her inner turmoil, the professional in Beverley took
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over, enabling her to suppress her nervousness and conduct the rest of the
meeting with brisk aplomb. Carl was formally voted in as technical director
and her deputy. By the time she brought the meeting to a close an hour later,
she had what she considered an ideal board consisting of six full-time
directors and two nonexecutive directors; a representative of Nano Systems'
bank and Theodore Draggon who was the first to pump her hand when Carl
produced champagne and the corks started popping.
'I knew you were the man for the job the moment I clapped eyes on you, lass,'
said Draggon warmly, now the genial York-shireman. Despite the crowd milling
around Beverley to congratulate her, he was reluctant to let go of her hand.
Beverley thanked him profusely and tried to disengage her hand.
'Nay, lass, thank yourself. With you at the helm, I feel my brass is safe.'
'Well,' said Beverley, matching Draggon's smile. 'As managing director, I'm
now going to pull rank on you and give you an order. Disobey it at your
peril.'
Her tone was friendly. Nevertheless Draggon released her hand and looked
worried. 'What's that, lass?'
'If you value keeping your balls in working order, don't ever call me lass
again.'
Beverley's fellow directors laughed uproariously at Draggon's crestfallen
expression. He recovered quickly and smiled good-humouredly. 'It's a deal,
Bev.'
Arriving back at her darkened house at the end of that momentous evening was a
letdown for Beverley. She was on a nerve-tingling high and felt a pang of
regret that there was no one to share her excitement. She had a desperate need
to talk to someone so, despite the lateness of the hour, she telephoned her
son's hall of residence at Bath University. There was music and laughter in
the background when she got through. She told him excitedly what had happened
but he did not seem interested. Beverley heard a girl calling out. She tried
hard not to be jealous and in so doing agreed to send Paul some money to cover
the
tax and insurance on his motorbike. He had already wheedled most of the
purchase price out of her.
As she pulled on her nightdress, her loneliness and the awe-someness of her
new responsibilities suddenly hit her. She sat on the bed and cried.
8
The first month of the new order was unpleasant. The task of ridding the
company of loyal but unnecessary staff whom Beverley had worked with for ten
years fell to her. At one point she became so unhappy with the whole sordid
business that she would have resigned were it not for the solid support of
Carl and her fellow directors. Then there was a drastic cost-cutting exercise.
At the end of four weeks of firings, of cancelling company car-leasing
contracts, of slashing expenses and of renting out any unwanted buildings as
warehouses, Beverley was mentally and physically drained. But she had
ruthlessly trimmed Nano Systems' overheads and salary bill by 30 per cent.
Other than the sackings, meeting the challenge head-on had bolstered her
confidence and made her look forward to the future. It had certainly given the
company's bankers confidence because they increased their overdraft
facilities.
'Not bad going for your first month, Bev,' Carl congratulated her over a drink
in the pub.
'Sales and marketing next,' Beverley replied. 'Then we tackle funding the work
needed for knocking the Kronos into shape for mass production.'
Carl remained silent. Beverley knew all about the horrendous problems of
getting sufficient memory working in the Kronos. For every hundred of the
miracle chips made, less than 1 per cent worked, and of that 1 per cent, less
than half had a large enough neural network in working order to pose a threat
to advanced silicon chips such as the transputer. Nano Systems had the
product; what they lacked was quantity.
'So what dazzling ideas are you harbouring on marketing?' Carl inquired at
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length.
Beverley smiled and sipped her drink. 'A few that might crunch some
influential toes.'
9
Theodore Draggon was not in the best of humour. He refused Beverley's
invitation to sit. Instead he dropped a document in front of her and leaned
belligerently over her desk. 'You mind telling me what the hell that is, Bev?'
Beverley glanced at the form. 'You can read, Theo. It's a licence application
to use one hundred Kronos microprocessors. Serial numbers - '
'I can see that! My chief buyer at my Petworth depot tells me he sent an order
through to you for a hundred Kronos and instead he gets one of these forms! So
what's going on?'
'Simple. We're not selling the Kronos, we're selling licences to use it. The
idea is that we retain total control over the chips in the field. They remain
our property. It's a system that's worked with software for a number of years [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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