White Space Season 2

board members, but still the most trusted quartet in the Conways’ employ, avoided eye contact with Warren, likely embarrassed for him.
    If nothing was wrong, then Blake’s absence, or tardiness as it were, was no doubt intentional.
    This is what happens when you disappoint Father.
    He’s trying to undermine me. To make me feel like a child, impotent, in front of the others.
    And it was working.
    Warren could feel the recently promoted Paladin chief, Carl Kaiser looking his way. Warren met the man’s eyes — both the human pupil, and the second robotic one, designed and manufactured by Conway Industries, and years ahead of anything else available. As intimidating as Kaiser’s eyes were — both of them — Warren held his stare until the chief looked elsewhere.
    The boardroom, situated in a spacious room on the posh 10th floor of Conway Industries, was where Warren normally felt most energized, motivated, and comfortable in his skin. Even more than his house, it was where Warren felt truly at home, thriving in his environment as the company’s CEO. Yet, the room now held none of its typical solace, smudged in black by a creeping uncertainty. A growing gloom thickened the air, and Warren was certain he wasn’t alone in his concern, wondering if and when Blake would arrive. This was the first meeting since the school shooting a month before. The first time he, or any of them, would be hearing Blake’s response. Everyone had to be wondering the same thing: Would Blake shutter Project Raven?
    Or worse, would the government decide the project was too risky to proceed, and cripple Warren’s biggest contribution to Conway Industries? Project Raven was his project. Warren had to beg Father to let him branch off from their nanotechnology in the health services sector, and apply their findings toward military use. “Just give me time to prove its value,” he’d said.
    But following the shooting, at the hands of one of Project Raven’s test subjects, no less, Warren knew his father’s limited patience was likely to vanish. Conway Industries was in the business of saving people and advancing humanity, not taking lives. This type of disaster was just the sort of thing which could invite unwanted speculation into the company’s covert testing. It was just the sort of thing which could endanger Blake’s pet project, the covert Phoenix.
    Warren glanced again at the door, Father’s private entrance. On the other side of that door was a hallway which led to his office, a place even Warren wasn’t permitted to enter. Father’s office was his “thinking place,” not to be “soiled” by others’ thoughts.
    Everyone else in the room was stealing glances at Father’s door as well, likely wondering the same thing as Warren — is Blake even in there?
    Suddenly, the door clicked, then hissed open, and the imposing man stepped into the boardroom, dressed in his signature black suit and shirt, with a thin red tie. His eyes narrowed on Warren — not the eyes of a pleased man.
    Shit.
    “Good morning,” Blake said, his greeting making the rounds to the rest of the inner circle.
    “Good morning,” they all said, though their voices betrayed the truth: There was little that was good about this particular morning.
    Blake usually carried a tablet, where he stored necessary documents, files and clips; anything he might need for a meeting. This morning, his hands were empty and folded. He usually circled the room once. This morning he sat immediately, sinking into his tall seat at the head of the table. Every eye turned to him as the inner circle first shifted in their seats, then sat at full attention.
    “So,” Blake said, “Who the hell wants to tell me why Roger Heller decided to open fire on a classroom of innocent kids from Phoenix Project? Is this what you’re doing with Project Raven, Mr. Conway? Using it to target rival projects?”
    Every eye turned to Warren, who had been preparing his answer for the past three days.
    “Well, sir, we don’t really know why Mr. Heller opened fire. But we can say it had nothing to do with our project. He had not been moved to Phase Six. I assume you saw the flash drive we recovered from Detective Houser?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you saw that Mr. Heller was assembling some sort of conspiracy theory package?”
    “Yes, and I would like to know how that happened, too. How much did he know? How did he know it? And also, who was he working with?”
    “We’re still looking into