—"Profile: Renraku Computer Systems," excerpted from the online magazine
Corpwatch,
3 May 3059
Inazo Aneki sat and studied the print on the wall of his office in Renraku corporate Headquarters in Chiba, Japan, contemplating the news he had just heard and the meetings he was about to have. The windows behind him afforded a view of the streets and buildings of Chiba and the sparkling waters of the Pacific in the distance through the afternoon haze that hung over the city.
The painting was entitled "The Wave of the Future," and was based on the famous wood block print known as
Kanagawa
oki
namiura
by Katsushika Hokusai. It showed a great wave cresting in the sea off of Kanagawa, with the white cone of Mount Fuji rising in the background. A twentieth-century artist had scanned the original painting and altered it so that the graceful woodcut curves of the tidal wave morphed into a pattern of colorful computer-graphics against a black sky. A twenty-first-century artist had further altered the painting. He had added a woodcut design of a serpentine dragon coiling around the peak of Mount Fuji, its body twisting around the mountain, a sleek-scaled, photorealistic representation of the great eastern dragon Ryumyo as he had first appeared, flying above Mount Fuji, in late December of 2011, the herald of a new age of magic and myth.
Aneki had admired the print from the day he first became CEO of Renraku. He liked to think of the company in much the same way: ancient and honorable tradition adapting to a world of high technology and rapid change, where nothing was certain apart from the company and the need for the company to provide its workers with a solid center to their lives. Renraku had always done that for as long as Aneki had been involved with it, and he intended to ensure the prosperity of his company and its community for a very, very long time.
Long after he was gone, if karma would allow.
Inazo Aneki was not a young man, but he had the finest medicine both science and sorcery of the twenty-first century could provide, so it was likely he would live a good many more years still. Perhaps he would one day take his retirement on board the Zurich-Orbital station. Perhaps the zero-gravity environment would add a few more precious years of life for him to make sure his company would always be there, which was all the immortality Aneki wished for himself.
A musical tone from the telecom screen on one side of Aneki’s desk brought him out of his reverie. He touched the illuminated button on one side of the display screen to acknowledge his assistant’s page.
"Yes?" he said into the air, and a voice, chosen for its soothing and professional quality, replied.
"Chairman Watanabe to see you, Aneki-sama."
Aneki gave his assent and a moment later the door of his office was opened by his secretary to admit the Chairman of the Renraku Computer Systems Board of Directors, Yukio Watanabe. The secretary executed a flawless bow and withdrew, closing the door behind her.
Watanabe walked smoothly to a respectful distance from Aneki’s desk and executed a slight bow that was little more than a nod, as befitted her status as Chairman. Aneki returned the gesture and motioned for her to take one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk.
In Aneki’s father’s time, it would have been unthinkable for a woman to be involved in business affairs, much less to rise to a position of power as great as Yukio Watanabe.
But
times
are
different
now,
Aneki thought with a glance at the print on his wall. Women in the business world of Japan were a small change by comparison to things such as the rise of magic, the twisting of a tenth of the world’s population into creatures like orks and trolls, and the world-spanning influence of the Matrix.
Still, women such as Watanabe-sama had to work hard to prove themselves in the traditionally male-dominated world of business. They had to be more capable, confident, and efficient than their male counterparts in order to achieve the same results. That meant
,
Aneki had learned, that women in business, especially successful women, were people to be respected. He had watched Watanabe’s rise to her current position and, even though he and the Chairman didn’t see eye to eye on every issue, he respected her opinion and her skills as a businesswoman. Under their mutual guidance, Renraku Computer Systems had prospered.
It
only
remains
to
be
seen,
Aneki thought,
whether
our
efforts
will
secure
the
company’s
future
or
seal
its
fate
.
"So?" she asked without preamble. Her brusqueness was not offensive, considering the circumstances.
"Napoli-san says Osborne is handling the case. He thinks she is stalling for time, but she also claims to have evidence that we have violated the concords."
Watanabe took the news stoically, without any outward sign of concern. "When will he make contact?" she asked.
Aneki did not have to ask to whom she referred. It was the sole reason they were both present in his office this afternoon.
"Soon," he said.
"Provided he can be bothered to do so at all this time."
Watanabe’s face darkened. "I hope he has been informed of the importance of this matter." She clearly could not imagine why anyone would not take the affairs of Renraku as seriously as she.
"He has been informed, but it remains to be seen if he has decided to understand." Aneki knew from experience that most people were caught up in their own little worlds, believing their own concerns to be primary and wondering why everyone else did not share their opinion. The individual they awaited was more prone to such behavior than most. Renraku Computer Systems was no more concern to him than the affairs of tribesmen in the Siberian steppes, perhaps less.
Even as Watanabe was about to retort, Aneki raised a hand to interrupt. "Every effort has been made to ensure he will understand, Yuki. His obsession might blind him to the everyday concerns of life, but he knows he needs Renraku’s patronage to continue his work. I instructed for that to be made clear to him."
Watanabe nodded in approval of the veiled threat issued in the company’s name. Matters were too grave to play around with needless diplomacy, and she understood well that fine words were best backed up by a sharp sword.
Aneki’s assistant entered the room like a silent shadow, carrying a tea service. She set it down and then proceeded to pour for the CEO and the Chairman, moving with quiet grace and efficiency. Another tone sounded from Aneki’s desktop console, this one different from the signal from his assistant’s desk. With a wave of his hand, Aneki dismissed the assistant from the room and ordered that there be no disturbances whatsoever. He knew she would efficiently field any problems, allowing him to concentrate fully on the matter at hand.
Aneki touched the Receive key on the telecom, and a window opened to reveal a complex, fractal encryption image. It was like an electronic lotus of incredible complexity and surpassing beauty, and Aneki found himself impressed as always with the way the code’s creator combined brilliant functionality with aesthetics. Aneki manipulated a few keys to make sure the systems were linked and the encryption secure before hitting the final acceptance key to open the link.
An image shimmered into place in the chair across from the one where Watanabe sat. The sheer resolution of the image was such that anyone would have sworn a spirit had manifested in the office, but Aneki and Watanabe knew it to be only a simulacrum, created by the state-of-the-art holographic projectors discreetly built into the office. Still, the technology was so sophisticated one could almost reach out and touch the figure sitting in the chair.
He was tall and thin, with long, dark hair swept back from a high forehead and sharp, aristocratic features. Hands with long, slim fingers were steepled in front of him in a casual gesture. His eyes were dark and impossibly deep, and Aneki always marveled at them. He often wondered if their incredible ageless quality was real or merely a creation of the image the man behind them projected. The long hair covered the delicately pointed ears that were the clearest mark that their visitor was an elf. Elves were just one of the many metatypes that had appeared with the return of magic, new races that had thrown off their human guises and, according to many, their human rights.
"Welcome, Leonardo-san." Aneki said with a slight nod of his head and Watanabe followed suit. The seated elven figure gave a slight smile and echoed the gesture.
"Good day to you," he said in flawless Japanese. "To what cause do I owe this interruption of my work?"
Aneki was no longer surprised by Leonardo’s abrupt manner. He had dealt with it before and did not allow the breach in etiquette to ruffle him. "And how does your work progress?" he asked.
Leonardo gave an expressive shrug.
"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.
Things proceed apace, but there are only so many hours in the day and so much yet to be done." He leaned forward in the chair—an impressive gesture for a hologram—and fixed his intense gaze on Aneki. "That is why I would like an answer to my question. Why have you seen fit to disrupt my work with this interruption?" Aneki swallowed hard under that unsettling gaze but maintained his composure. He was about to reply when Watanabe spoke up for the first time.
"We need more," she said, going immediately to the point. "The technology we have is not enough."
Leonardo turned his head toward her, and a faint smile played across his sculpted lips.
"And suppose there is no more, Watanabe-san? What if Renraku now has all of the little toys I might have to offer
you.
What then?"
Watanabe’s face darkened at the elf’s mocking tone. "Do not play games with us Leonardo." Her tone was cold. "We know you have not yet shared all of the technological treasures from that laboratory of yours. We have provided you with billions of nuyen to fund your ... project and you have given us little more than crumbs of knowledge and technology in return. We expect some kind of return on our investment."
One of Leonardo’s eyebrows raised in a delicate arch. "Indeed? I understood Renraku’s stock has been steadily increasing in value over the past year and a half. Your products are beating out all others in their respective markets and your company holds the cutting edge in computer and Matrix technology, all thanks to my ‘little crumbs.’ I would think putting Renraku on the fast-track to becoming the most powerful megacorporation in the world would be worth more than a paltry few billion nuyen."
Aneki decided to intervene before the situation got out of hand. There still might be a chance to reason with Leonardo before he went off into one of his fits of pique.
"Leonardo-san," he began in a calming tone, "we are indeed appreciative of your genius and how it has benefited Renraku, just as I am sure you are appreciative of the resources our company has made available for the continuation of your very important work." In truth, Aneki had little idea what Leonardo’s "great work" concerned. The elf inventor was eccentric at best, and quite probably certifiable, but the value of his inventions could not be denied. It certainly would not be the first time a corporation bowed to the whims of an erratic genius.
"But," Aneki continued, "
our
mutually beneficial relationship is threatened. Renraku’s growth and prosperity has created concern among the other megacorporations, and there are those who would topple us from the pinnacle we have achieved. We need additional technology from you to make sure that does not happen so we can continue to provide you with the resources you need to continue your work undisturbed."
The CEO’s words seemed to have the desired effect on Leonardo. His image sat back in the chair and appeared to consider and carefully weigh Aneki’s words for a few moments.
"And what will I receive in return for providing you with more of my research?"
Aneki had already thought carefully about how he would respond to this inevitable question. "In addition to our gratitude, we are prepared to increase the resources at your disposal. Renraku has profited from your work and we are willing to share our profits with all those involved in our corporate family."
Leonardo’s slow smile made it clear that he did not feel he was a part of anyone’s "corporate family," but he was at least willing to consider the offer. The elf seemed more amused by the prospect than anything else. He steepled his fingers again and leaned forward.
"I will consider your offer," he said slowly. "We will speak again soon, and I will let you know my decision." Watanabe looked like she was about to say something, then seemed to think better of it.
Aneki cleared his throat. "We have prepared information on our most important needs," he began, and Leonardo smiled his enigmatic smile.
"I know," Leonardo said. "I’ve already downloaded it from your database. I will review it and you will hear from me soon. I
have .
..
other
matters to consider and another distraction awaiting me." Without any further comment, the elf’s image fuzzed and faded out of existence, leaving only an empty chair once again.
Watanabe looked over at Aneki, who consulted the console on his desk. He gave a bit of a shrug as he turned back toward her. "The system reports we are secure in here, but where he’s involved, how can anyone be sure?"