Illusion
by
Lynn Allen
Published by Lynn Allen on Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Lynn Allen
cover image: Dougal Waters, GettyImages
The characters and events in Illusion are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental and not intentional.
ISBN for DG ebook 978-0-646-55357-3
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For those who serve in the corridors of power with an open mind and a just heart.
PART ONE
There is always a well-known solution to every human problem - neat, plausible, and wrong. H.L.Mencken.
CHAPTER ONE
‘If we don’t fix this then the minister and the board are going to be all over us. Inside Cover will love it.’ George Eton, the Public Affairs Director, pushed his black hair back from his forehead. ‘We’re sorry to lay this on you, boss, but I can’t camouflage this with good news. Whichever way we look at it, we’re heading for a public relations disaster.’
‘I agree with George,’ said Josephine Baxter, head of the Policy & International Division, her laconic tone a contrast to George’s agitation. ‘There are worse fates than appearing on the second page of The West Australian. Such as having to explain to the minister why normal contracting procedures have not been followed.’
‘Or appearing on the front page,’ said George.
‘Or why our newest software project is the subject of intense interest from a global corporation I didn’t even know existed.’ Anne Oldham, the third of the Institute’s directors, fidgeted with the single pearl at her neck.
The three executives retreated into uncomfortable silence, having vented varying levels of frustration. Their new Managing Director, Elizabeth Wallace, had arrived from Scotland three weeks before. Perhaps the combination of jet lag from the long flight to Australia and her insomnia had dulled her mind. At this, the first business meeting of her senior team, she had hoped for a low-key conversation on the Institute’s projects, not cryptic intimations of disaster. The trio before her were a far cry from the sociable characters that had welcomed her with an impromptu afternoon tea on her first day. Since then most of their interactions had been about the budget. No matter how they sliced it, there were inadequate funds for their current operations. Elizabeth was left wondering how they would finance the myriad of ideas she had been generating since being offered the job in London three months before.
‘I think we all need to take a deep breath,’ she said. ‘I can’t say that I recall anything about the projects you mentioned.’ She checked the index to her notes on the laptop before her. ‘What did you call them? Remembering and Valkyrie? Did I miss something in the two foot pile of briefing papers so kindly presented to me on day two?’ She smiled at them, aiming for a flippant tone in an attempt to relieve the tension in the room.
George and Josephine looked to Anne who was pulling at her fingers, pushing back cuticles on what looked like bitten nails. ‘No, there was nothing in there about them,’ Anne said. ‘That was deliberate. We talked about it. I decided the best way to brief you on Valkyrie was to show you. I planned to do that next week. Remembering is Michael’s project so I don’t know its status.’
The mysterious Doctor Michael Robinson, Elizabeth thought. One of two missing directors. Whereas Mario Fiori, the head of State Collections, was on sick leave, Robinson gave the impression of avoiding her. She had received no advice from him on Remembering or any other topic for that matter. Not a word.
‘Given this is the first I’ve heard of these projects and you believe there is a major issue, can you explain what it is you want me to do? Why not begin with what has triggered this urgency? Perhaps you should start, Anne.’
Because Anne’s responsibilities included the Institute’s budget, Elizabeth had spent more time with her than the others and had come to appreciate her quick intelligence. While Anne often exhibited a nervous energy, Elizabeth thought she was more anxious than usual.
Anne clasped her hands on top of her papers and took a deep breath. ‘For me, the main issue is protecting our software. If Vision Industries get their hands on Valkyrie then years of work will just disappear into some multinational’s bailiwick. It’s the same old story.’
‘Vision Industries? Do you mean Vision Industries International?’ Elizabeth interrupted. ‘The French conglomerate owned by Martin Cheval?’
Anne and Josephine exchanged surprised glances. ‘You know of them?’ Josephine asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But why on earth would Cheval be interested in anything the Institute produces?’
From the momentary tightening of Anne’s shoulders and Josephine’s raised eyebrow, Elizabeth realised she had caused offence. She chastised herself for implying an Australian government agency, particularly one located in Western Australia, would be of interest to a wealthy European magnate. Yet, cultural cringe or no, that was her reaction. To her knowledge Martin Cheval had not ventured far south, centring his interests on telecommunications and surveillance systems in Europe and Canada. Once a regular feature in the business pages, he had become something of a recluse in recent years.
‘Valkyrie uses next generation web tools as well as translation software in its search strategies so I can see why they would be interested,’ Anne said, unable to keep the defensiveness from her voice. ‘Especially after they bought SysWA.’
‘But that’s not the reason they’re interested,’ said George. ‘It’s a contractual thing and they want to get rid of the obligation. Sorry, Anne, I know it’s your pet project, but I don’t think Valkyrie interests them in the slightest.’
Josephine Baxter was the least flustered of the three. While Anne and George debated the value of Valkyrie she made notes. Before Elizabeth could comment, Josephine rose from her chair and switched on the smart board.
‘Look, you’re both right,’ she said, ‘but I think we’re missing the point. Let’s plot this out.’
She drew boxes and connecting lines, filling the board with arrows, dollar signs and words, ignoring George and Anne’s suggestions. Elizabeth thought Josephine’s calligraphy matched that of her appearance. The sage coloured silk suit she wore was yet another outfit with perfect cut and fit.
‘As you can see,’ Josephine said, pointing to the first box, ‘what we have here is the company, SysWA, our home-grown success story that went national and made a bucket of money from government contracts after starting out as a Perth-based software developer. They grew into a major supplier of data warehousing systems for state and federal governments. Last year they won a huge contract with the Singapore government that they didn’t think they would get. I suspect that’s when they came to Vision’s attention as I’m told on good authority they tendered for it.’
‘Martin Cheval doesn’t like losing,’ Elizabeth said, recalling his irritation over failing to win a Scottish contract for CCTV systems.
‘There was a lot of talk about SysWA going public but it never happened,’ said George. ‘The family members couldn’t agree. Why should they? They were making a mint as they were.’
Elizabeth was catapulted back three years to the day she made a decision to take her company public. Her sympathies were with SysWA. If only she had been as wise. Memories of the new hostile board and endless press speculation about her wealth after the sale assisted in her decision to take the Institute job. It was a relief to be in Perth where she was unknown.
‘They certainly were raking it in,’ Josephine said, ‘and then last year, out of the blue, it was announced that Vision Industries International had bought SysWA for an undisclosed sum. Rumour is it could be as high as thirty million dollars. Small bikkies compared to resources companies but a big deal for the family that started in an office in the back shed.’
‘Well, this is all very interesting but I don’t see what this has to do with the Institute as yet,’ said Elizabeth, dismissing her memories.
‘Let me explain, then.’ Anne moved to the board and added to Josephine’s drawing. ‘SysWA had contracts with these six government departments and with us. The SysWA brand is going to remain as the Australian entity for the time being but the Australasian operations are going to be run from Singapore. The local CEO has stepped away to his mansion on the river and vineyards down south. The new Singaporean CEO insisted on meeting with the Institute.’
‘Yes, and he gave us little notice,’ Josephine added as she and Anne returned to their seats. ‘We had to front up to a meeting to discuss projects we knew too little about. Michael wasn’t here.’
They were all over the place again, Elizabeth thought. ‘Do you mean Michael Robinson? What does he have to do with it? You were talking of Valkyrie, weren’t you?’
‘Sorry, that’s my fault,’ said Anne. ‘I’m concerned about the effect on Valkyrie but the SysWA contracts were about Remembering.’
‘And we can’t talk about that because Michael keeps it all too close to his chest,’ said George. ‘Treats everybody like mushrooms. Easy for him, he’s so full of it.’ He shrugged his shoulders in response to Josephine’s disapproving scowl.
‘Tell me about the meeting with Vision, then,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Who was there and what was the point of it?’
‘Gordon Burns, the former deputy CEO was there,’ Anne said. ‘He’s been with SysWA from the beginning. The meeting was asked for – demanded if you ask me – by Jules Vupin, the new Australasian director. I must say he dripped Gallic charm once he got here but I went into the meeting pretty annoyed. His assistant had said he was coming to Perth for two days and wanted to clean up all outstanding messes inherited from SysWA. Her exact words.’
‘We weren’t too impressed with being called a mess,’ said Josephine.
Elizabeth could imagine Josephine being unimpressed. Josephine presented as precise and business-like, from her shoulder length silky black hair to her designer stiletto heels. With her Eurasian heritage she was small in stature but she had a no-nonsense approach that Elizabeth could imagine intimidating a giant. Messy would be the gravest insult.
‘So, there we were, Josephine and I, unprepared for what was to happen,’ said Anne. ‘This was the week before you started. Michael was on leave and we had very little to go on. Turned out that Vupin wants to tidy up the outstanding work on Remembering and close off the account but they don’t want to be seen to be pulling the plug on us because they want to have a good working relationship with the government.’
Elizabeth was puzzled by their agitation. They were seeing crocodile infested waters while all she could see were tiddlers. Wasn’t it simply a matter of renegotiating a software contract that the company wanted to put to bed? She was about to say so when George spoke.
‘Come on, guys.’ He pressed his hands into the arms of his chair and shook his head. ‘We’ve danced around this long enough. Loyalty and solidarity are one thing but I’m sick of being embarrassed by Michael’s games. We agreed we’d be upfront with the new boss.’
Josephine and Anne looked at each other then Anne fiddled with her papers. As Anne bent her head her copper-coloured hair fell across her face. Elizabeth had become accustomed to Anne’s various hairstyles. Piled high one day and tucked behind her ears the next, its voluminous unruliness suggested she was trying to disappear behind it. Josephine nodded to the top of Anne’s head and then to George to continue.
‘We’re sounding like nervous nellies,’ he said, ‘but what we have here is a can of worms no one has been prepared to open. Because Michael was not here to meet with Vupin and Burns, Josephine asked me to review the contract files for SysWA’s work on Remembering. I couldn’t get hold of the working files because they were locked in Michael’s office and his assistant wouldn’t give them to me, no matter how charming I was.’
‘Given that I was Acting MD, and George’s charm failed us,’ Josephine smiled at George, ‘I called in Michael’s assistant and demanded the files. She told me he had locked them in his office and she didn’t have a key. After that, I called in the finance staff and they pulled the payments made to SysWA. They go back years and while we can’t match them against the contract files, there are a few anomalies.’
‘Anomalies?’ George thumped the arms of his chair. ‘They’re not anomalies. They’re fraud.’
‘Don’t minute that, Barbara,’ Elizabeth said to her secretary beside her, thinking it would make no difference if she did as Barbara used shorthand. ‘That’s a serious allegation, George. Do you have evidence to substantiate such an accusation?’
‘Well, no, but it’s pretty obvious.’
‘No, it’s not,’ said Josephine, as if talking to a child. ‘You need to be careful what you say, George. SysWA’s one thing but Vision’s a whole different ball game.’
George folded his arms but kept a defiant gaze on Josephine who continued, unperturbed. ‘Anne and I went into that meeting knowing that SysWA had received a lot of money from the Institute over the years but not knowing what for. Nor do we know what verbal commitments have been made to them by Michael.’
‘What does a lot of money mean?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘Well, the original amount was $10,000 but over the last four years the amounts total $500,000 with payments monthly for most of that time. The work is listed on the invoice as software services, digitisation work and website design.’
‘Website design!’ George interrupted again. ‘Remembering still doesn’t have a live website. That’s part of the problem. We’ve been telling writers we’re going to launch it for over twelve months and Michael won’t set a date. I haven’t even seen a test site and I’m supposed to do the marketing.’
Elizabeth ignored George’s outburst. ‘I agree that $500,000 is a lot of money for a website. There must be more to it than that. What is Remembering supposed to offer?’
Anne began to speak but Elizabeth stopped her. ‘No, sorry, let’s not go there. Come back to the Vision meeting. What happened there?’
‘My main concern was not so much they wanted to bring Remembering to completion.’ Anne pushed her hair from her face. ’I think it should be closed anyway as Valkyrie does a better job. My worry is that Burns insists they have been promised the rights to develop and market the software. He said that includes exclusive access to the Remembering archive for the production of digital products. Burns said that they had an Internet game under development based on exploring Australia as a pioneer. Sort of a SIM game for new settlers. That’s my project. I’ve been doing the specs for it and I’ve kept it under strict security.’
‘That’s got to be corporate theft,’ said George. ‘If they have that –’
‘Who made the promises?’ Elizabeth interrupted him.
‘That’s the problem,’ said Josephine. ‘Without the files we can’t see how much of this is in writing but even verbal promises could be held up as contracts and we could never take them to court.’
‘No, legal battles with Martin Cheval are not a good idea. He’s a notorious litigator in Europe and he never loses,’ said Elizabeth, ‘but let’s not jump that far ahead.’ She made some notes on her laptop, a new tablet computer that had become her constant companion. She had better investigate Martin Cheval’s recent activities for herself.
‘So, you can see why we need you to take over these negotiations and get us out of this mess before we have a lawsuit on our hands,’ said Anne.
‘And the first person you need to sort out is Michael Robinson,’ said George. ‘Somebody needs to bring that bloke into line.’
****
‘What was that about? And where’s Michael Robinson?’ Elizabeth asked Barbara as they walked from the boardroom into Elizabeth’s executive suite.
Barbara picked up the messages left on her desk. ‘Where do you want me to start on the first question? As to the second question,’ she looked at the paper in her hand, ‘Michael’s decided to stay in Sydney for two more days. For important meetings at the State Library and State Archives, this says.’
Elizabeth smiled at Barbara’s excellent mimicry of a posh accent. She leaned on the wall and watched as Barbara put away her Executive papers and tidied an already clear space, evidence of the able and efficient executive secretary she had proven to be. She had kept Elizabeth well prepared as she negotiated her way through more than a dozen meetings with a bewildering array of public servants, all of whom were eager to prosecute their particular needs.
‘I’ve been here three weeks already and, apart from the brief niceties in the corridor, I’ve barely spoken to him,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I’m beginning to suspect a deliberate tactic rather than coincidence.’
Barbara locked her shorthand notebook in her desk and laughed as she removed her half-moon glasses. ‘Oh, it’s deliberate all right. His usual opening move is to pretend his opponent doesn’t exist. Wait till you see his second move.’
‘Opponent? He’s decided I’m an opponent?’ Elizabeth moved towards the door that separated their offices. ‘On what does he base that opinion?’
Barbara followed Elizabeth. ‘Don’t take it personally. It wouldn’t matter who’s sitting in that chair.’
Elizabeth looked at her watch. ‘I was going to ask if you wanted a drink but maybe I shouldn’t keep you. Look at the time.’
‘I’d love one. Gin and tonic?’ Without waiting for an answer Barbara walked to the sideboard and began slicing a lemon. This had become something of a ritual for the two women who had spent several evenings finalising the Institute’s entry in the parliamentary budget papers. Elizabeth had not refused to put her name to a set of performance measures that read like notes to a mining company’s balance sheet.
‘Gerry’s left a message saying he’s staying in Sydney for an extra night so no hurry. Maybe Michael and he have cooked up a conspiracy.’ Barbara chuckled. ‘Just joking. Gerry can’t stand the man.’
‘Let’s sit outside,’ Elizabeth said, putting her laptop and papers on her desk. She pushed back the large glass door at the end of her office.
‘Okay, I’ll just go get some ice.’
Elizabeth removed her jacket and kicked off her shoes. She stepped onto the balcony that was as big as her office. On the fourth floor of the building and facing the river, it was often too windy to enjoy. She breathed in the still evening air, warm and smoky from another hot April day and yet another bushfire in the hills. Would autumn never come? At least there was no howling sea breeze so she sat in one of the large wicker chairs and allowed herself a quiet moment. There had been precious few of them since Barbara and her husband had picked her up at the airport. It felt like months since she left rainy London, abandoning the uncomprehending Alex to his parliamentary career.
Barbara had apologised for being the one to welcome her as the chairman, Roger Lui, was in London for a few weeks on business. Elizabeth had been glad to begin the new job without him. Best to navigate her own way around the networks. Of course, one had to meet people to get to know them and that was proving difficult with two of her senior staff.
Elizabeth liked Barbara from the start. The extensive email and telephone conversations arranging her travel and providing her with background information showed not only Barbara’s professionalism but also her kindness. Gerry and Barbara had welcomed her into their home with a small dinner party at their South Perth apartment. Gerry was a newspaper executive looking forward to retiring and he had entertained them with stories about local politicians, saying he would write a tell-all book. Barbara told Elizabeth she thought they would carry Gerry out of his job in a box; he loved the game of it too much and, if he wrote his books, they’d tar and feather him first.
Barbara stepped onto the balcony carrying a tray with the drinks as well as a cheese and fruit platter. ‘Might as well have some nourishment,’ she said. ‘Can’t say that I noticed you having any lunch today. Or yesterday for that matter.’
Elizabeth tolerated Barbara’s mothering tendencies. They were offered with such grace it was difficult to take offence but she was not going to encourage her. She had to admit she had been skipping meals. The days flew past as she rushed from one commitment to another. She had told Barbara that morning to make no more appointments without checking with her.
‘So why was there so much intensity over the Vision business?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘Obviously I’m missing something. It was a bit like trying to grasp melting jelly.’ She sliced some brie and spread it on a slice of apple.
Barbara leaned back in her chair, kicked off her shoes and put her legs on the matching footstool. Her small, pudgy feet reminded Elizabeth of her mother’s. Buying shoes was always a challenge for them both. Elizabeth’s long narrow feet matched her height and shape and her mother would joke that Elizabeth needed to stop growing because no man like a woman with big feet. She had stopped at 5ft 10in, a veritable Amazon in their Scottish village.
‘Most of it revolves around Michael’s ego.’ Barbara rolled the ice in her glass as if to emphasise her point. ‘He’s the centre of the universe and we are but his playthings.’
‘It’s obvious he doesn’t share much with them,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Valkyrie’s got Anne excited but this Remembering project has them pretty mad. Interesting name. They appear to have forgotten more than they remember about it.’
‘Yes. I can’t help you much on those as Michael moved me to being Board Secretary when he got the Acting MD job.’
‘I thought you were Jean Renfrew’s secretary.’ Elizabeth remembered Jean’s gratitude for Barbara’s friendship and loyalty.
‘Yes, Jean was State Librarian for a long time and I was with her for seven years.’ Barbara sighed, helping herself to strawberries. ‘They were good times till she suddenly resigned. We were close but something happened that she wouldn’t–or couldn’t–tell me about. Even Gerry couldn’t discover anything but I suspect Michael had a hand in it.’
Elizabeth had known Jean Renfrew for several years when she lived in Perth but had seen her rarely since returning to Scotland. In the last ten years their communication had shrunk to Christmas cards.
‘Michael didn’t like my connection to Jean and I knew too much about some of his games,’ Barbara said. ‘When he got the acting MD job he moved me out of his office but I can tell you that nothing about Valkyrie or Remembering has been to the board. So Josephine’s right to worry. Michael knows Roger Lui doesn’t like surprises. Not that it’ll make a blind bit of difference.’
Elizabeth gazed across the wide balcony to the water slipping down the stainless steel-covered wall that glistened in the evening sun. The sound of the water muted the hum of traffic. Was the reason her executives were so panicked about Vision as simple as the board being kept in the dark? Her impression of Roger Lui when they met in London was of a quiet, reasonable man.
‘I was going to retire,’ Barbara said, ‘when Michael moved me. I didn’t want to work for the Black Prince–oops, sorry, I mean Elliott Prince.’ She looked anything but apologetic. ‘He was acting chairman and he made Michael acting MD without consultation with the board or with the minister.’
‘Why would he need to discuss it with the minister?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘I was told the board is independent of government.’
Elizabeth thought Barbara’s smile was indulgent. ‘Oh, yes, we’re independent. According to the legislation but in reality, we don’t scratch ourselves without the minister telling us we’ve got an itch. Wait till you meet Jeremy Hayes. You’re in for an experience.’
‘We were going to have dinner in London but he cancelled at the last minute so I had a lovely evening with Roger Lui and his wife instead.’
‘He probably had a more important person in his sights. Jeremy’s quite the networker.’
Elizabeth did not want to encourage Barbara’s criticisms of people whom she was yet to meet. ‘You were telling me about your decision to retire,’ she said. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘When the Prince himself asked me to become Secretary to the Board you could have knocked me over with a feather. Given the closeness of Prince and Robinson, I just assumed Michael would have discussed with him my loyalty to Jean. Prince told Michael he needed someone with my corporate memory to help him in his role as chairman.’
‘Wise person,’ said Elizabeth, ‘and now you have that job as well as running my office. It’s not too much?’
Elizabeth thought Barbara looked tired. She knew she had a busy life with her grandchildren as well as her love of sailing. Her ruddy complexion attested to too many hours in the Australian sun. Elizabeth’s sixteen years old skin had rebelled against that same sun when her family migrated to Perth. Her teenage angst over a few freckles on her pale face became a full-blown panic as more and more brown spots appeared. She had retreated indoors, a move that hindered friendship in a country of sun worshippers.
Barbara began to rise from her chair. ‘Don’t you go worrying about me. You’ve got enough on your plate. I’m looking forward to watching you deal with the boys. Gerry said that Prince tried to stop Roger Lui being appointed chairman. Prince and the Premier were great mates but when you’ve got someone as rich as Croesus wanting to support your government you’re not going to say no. Refill?’
‘Let me,’ Elizabeth said, taking their glasses and gesturing to Barbara to sit. ‘There’s no need for you to wait on me all the time.’
She stepped into her office, marvelling again at its minimalist beauty. She was still astonished by the executive suite with its massive desk facing the Swan River. The adjacent meeting room had leather sofas as well as a round jarrah table that could seat eight and her personal bathroom was bigger than the one in her London flat. Barbara had explained that the décor with its fine timbers, abstract art and coloured glass bowls sourced from Western Australian artists were all chosen because their minister was to occupy the offices. The fourth floor above had been planned as a conference centre and apartment for visiting dignitaries but there had been such a scandal over the cost of the whole complex that their minister had joined seven other ministers in the north wing.
On her first day Elizabeth had been appalled by the strange array of ornaments displayed on every surface. Barbara explained they were gifts from government and corporate dignitaries. Elizabeth banished most of them by the end of her first week. Two objects, however, remained. In the corner, sitting in its own glass case was a geisha doll, resplendent in a red and gold kimono. The detail on the face, hands and fan displayed a delicate craftsmanship. The opposite corner contained a similar case with another figure, this time a samurai warrior. Elizabeth had edited a book on Samurai costumes so she appreciated the authenticity. She wondered what Japanese connections warranted such exquisite gifts. Something told her not to remove them. Perhaps she would need the adeptness of both geisha and samurai in the coming months.
****
Elizabeth had spent the morning poring over the project reports provided by Anne Oldham, reading the one on Valkyrie with care. The report was professional but there was little clarification of Anne’s concern. As Elizabeth entered Anne’s office, George Eton was sitting at the meeting table. Anne explained that she and George thought it would be more useful to meet with her together rather than separately as scheduled.
So much for getting their individual accounts on the project, thought Elizabeth. She had noticed the two of them together, often in the coffee shop, in intense conversation. She decided to go along with them, although she would also meet with George alone because she had a few questions for her volatile Director of Commercial and Business Services. Dressed in his usual uniform of white business shirt, silk tie and bright red braces, he offered a confident smile.
‘Hope you don’t mind us reorganising you,’ he said. ‘We thought two heads would be better than one.’
‘We wanted to bring you up to date as soon as possible,’ said Anne. ‘As I mentioned yesterday, we don’t want this blowing up in our face.’
‘Or, rather, in your face,’ George said, looking at Elizabeth. ‘Wouldn’t look good for this to be the first publicity your appointment gets. Chairman Lui would not be a happy chappie. No, sir.’
George’s relaxed posture did not convince Elizabeth that he took the matter seriously–whatever that matter was. The links between their pet project and the Vision negotiations still appeared far-fetched to Elizabeth. ‘Fire away,’ she said to them. ‘You’ve got my attention. Let’s see what this Valkyrie is all about.’
Anne pointed a remote control at the wall covered by four large digital screens. They watched a five-minute presentation of images, sound and text that merged across the displays.
‘Meet Valkyrie,’ Anne enthused, as an animated figure of Odin’s handmaiden in battledress appeared. ‘This is the name and logo for our most significant secret R&D project. This is our Voice Activated Learning and Knowledge Retrieval Interface. Hence VALKyRIe. Its software is designed to recognise people’s voices, translate requests from one language to another and then search across multilingual global databases. It remembers the search paths so it learns quicker ways to display that information in the future. We’ve got English and French working at the moment and we’ve got some corporate international funding to develop the software for Chinese, Japanese and Spanish interfaces.’
‘Pretty cool, isn’t it?’ George sounded like a star-struck teenager. ‘It works on one screen, but also on two or four, showing different data types and languages simultaneously. So you can have a picture on one screen, text on another and online chat on another. And the Valkyrie avatar is always there to help with voice or text.’
At Next Generation Publishing Elizabeth had experimented with voice-activated retrieval across their authors’ texts but she had seen nothing like this at European electronic publishing conventions. The combination of the multilingual capacity with learning pathways was a good idea but she wondered about the power needed to drive the system.
‘Its specifications require it to present previously used search strategies,’ Anne continued. ‘After the client confirms a satisfactory search it amends the pathways for optimal future use or suggests a new one. Often the way people find information is circuitous and time-intensive. They bookmark the correct source but lose the search strategy. They get diverted to new information and find different things to what they intended so there may be two search results and two pathways rather than a simple solution to the original request.’
‘Anne’s too modest,’ George said. ‘She’s published loads of research on cognitive processes around information retrieval and we want to operationalise her theories as quickly as possible.’
George’s admiration generated bright red spots on Anne’s cheeks. ‘It’s not just my ideas.’ She shook her head. ‘And for operationalise read commercialise, George’s sole motivation in life.’
‘And a very good motivation it is, too,’ he said.
Elizabeth did not want to dampen their enthusiasm. ‘Didn’t I read about something similar going on with the EU? Perhaps with their information society projects using World Health Organisation data?’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ Anne said. ‘We’re in regular contact with WHO and have shared some of our prototypes. We exchanged early versions so we can make sure they work across the large networks. WHO and the EU are giving us access to their secure networks.’
‘The secure networks?’ asked Elizabeth. One of her authors had written a controversial book on the secrecy surrounding inter-governmental data sources. ‘Now you have my attention. But you said earlier you were keeping much of this project secret. If this is publicly funded shouldn’t it be open source?’
‘Need to know basis,’ said George, tapping the side of his nose. ‘We’ve got some potential private sector partners who are keen to help us commercialise this and we’ve shown it to them only after they signed confidentiality agreements. Perhaps too hastily as it’s turned out. Now we have Vision Industries on our case.’
George and Anne exchanged hesitant glances. ‘Maybe we were a bit out of line yesterday getting stuck into Michael,’ Anne said, ‘but we need to explain some organisational politics here. Shall I do that now?’
George nodded to her.
Anne leaned onto the table and whispered as if the walls could hear. ‘I need to explain that there are two product development streams. While we’ve done most of the work in-house, we have an outside contractor. The guy we used is a genius, a one-man operation. An expert in virtual reality.’
Elizabeth knew this would be praise indeed from Anne who herself had completed a PhD in retrieval systems at MIT when she was 24 years old.
‘His name is Daniel Power and he did the Valkyrie avatar for us and the integration of voice and image is his work. The other work has been done solely by our staff and this is where we have used the Remembering data to test the cross database searching ideas.’
‘I thought Valkyrie and Remembering were separate projects,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You gave me the impression that Michael Robinson kept Remembering much to himself.’
‘Yes, that’s true, for most of the time,’ said Anne, ‘but we approached Mario for permission to use the electronic archives and he agreed. He didn’t see a need to ask Michael.’
‘This is Mario Fiori?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘That’s right,’ said Anne. ‘You still haven’t met him, have you? He’s been sick. He suffers from asthma and his flu has turned into bronchitis. Anyway, as Director of State Collections, Mario has final say on the use of all the collections, including digital. He gave us access to the digital manuscripts of twenty local authors who have been involved in Remembering.’
‘And he got hammered for it.’
‘Let’s not go there, George.’ Anne pushed her hair behind her ears.
‘Well, I think we should,’ he said. ‘You need to tell the boss about what your tutor said.’
Anne bit her top lip. Elizabeth gave her time to think.
‘Well, I’m doing a creative writing Masters and my writing group–‘
‘They’re called the Ursulas because they’re all writing science fiction,’ George said.
‘My tutor is one of the authors who has approved their papers being part of the Remembering project and he said he’s not happy with the relationship with the Institute.’
‘Well, come back to Valkyrie for the moment,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You were talking about the software developer.’
‘Yes, I was. Sorry, it’s just also connected,’ said Anne. ‘The problem we face is that Vision employed Daniel out of the blue three months after they bought SysWA. They must have offered him a fortune because he’s an independent type. I can’t understand how SysWA even knew he was working for us.’
‘But we have our suspicions and it starts with M,’ said George.
‘SysWA was doing work on Remembering,’ Anne said.
‘A lot as it turns out,’ George interrupted again.
‘And now SysWA has been taken over by Vision, they are arguing that they have an agreement to commercialise our IP when we have made no such agreement.’
‘Yes, you told me that,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Yes, of course, sorry.’ Anne’s face flushed again. She paused and looked at her hands. ‘I hope I did the right thing but I told Gordon Burns that whatever we do with whatever partners there would be no end-user charges for Australian citizens.’
‘Why did you involve the private sector at all, then?’ Elizabeth asked. It was beginning to sound like an attempt to change horses mid-stream. She had some sympathy for Vision’s predicament but she wanted to alleviate Anne’s distress.
‘Government policy, mainly,’ Anne said. ‘We can’t do total in-house development. Ideology says we’re not capable of doing anything without private sector help.’ Anne’s tone left no doubt that was an insult. Her English accent was tinged with American influences that Elizabeth thought made her sound like two different people. She sounded American when she was being forceful and then more English when anxious. Her dress sense was equally conflicted: expensive business trousers teamed with a silk shirt above which she wore no makeup.
‘The thing is,’ Anne said, her tone calmer, ‘we think we could negotiate a joint venture with the EU or the UN for controlled commercialisation. Use the creative commons idea.’
‘That’s Anne’s idealism talking,’ said George. ‘There are good commercial opportunities. It just depends on who gets to capitalise on them. SysWA’s Gordon Burns is arguing that government shouldn’t even be in this game of software development and he said he would pressure the minister and the board to hand over everything we’ve produced.’
Elizabeth could see their quandary. Who had created this mess? These kinds of issues should have been dealt with at the beginning of the project, not half way through. She did not fancy their chances if Martin Cheval’s lawyers took the same stance as Gordon Burns.
‘It’s so much more complicated now Vision owns SysWA,’ said George. ‘Anne’s crystal clear there is no contractual arrangements on Valkyrie but Gordon Burns says things that horrify us.’
‘Like all source code for both projects are his,’ said Anne. ‘It’s a nightmare.’
Elizabeth wondered how senior executives could get themselves into such a lather when they did not have the whole story. Why was it so impossible to get Michael Robinson to explain any agreements he had made? ‘Sounds like you’re working in the dark without a torch,’ she said. ‘We need to find out more about the contractual arrangements but in the absence of any, I suggest we hold our ground. It’s not easy to take intellectual property cases through the courts.’
George’s agitation got the better of him. Ignoring Anne’s reproving look, he moved to the screens and pointed at the Valkyrie avatar who moved in and out of caves, as if searching for something. ‘This is the reason I took this job. I was sick of working on brand marketing for spoilt rich kids. There’s been a huge investment in setting up the Institute and as far as I’m concerned that means anything produced here belongs to us and we have every right to make money from it.’
Anne pushed herself from her chair and limped to her desk. Barbara had explained that a childhood accident left Anne with one leg shorter than the other but Elizabeth thought Anne looked more tired than usual as she poured herself a glass of water.
‘Our future funding’s not guaranteed,’ Anne said, ‘so if we’re going to do any R&D we need an income stream.’
‘And not be screwed over by the private sector.’ George accepted a glass of water from Anne and gulped it.
The two of them sighed and looked at Elizabeth.
‘Well, I am impressed with what you have shown me but what you have told me sounds like a commercial and political minefield. You’ve raised even more questions than yesterday. How do you suggest we proceed?’
‘Sorry to lay this on you, boss,’ said George. His dark brown eyes stared at Elizabeth. ‘For my part, I think we should just launch it. Make a big noise and claim the ground. Challenge them to challenge us.’
‘I’ve told George maybe we should be more cautious till we know what we’re dealing with,’ Anne said. ‘That’s why it would be best for you to sort out Vision Industries first. I’ve put together all the written contracts and extracts from project meetings that I can find.’ She stepped to her desk and picked up a thick file from amongst the piles of folders on her desk.
‘Good heavens,’ Elizabeth laughed, ‘I suppose you’d like me to read them in the next couple of hours?’ Her attempt to lighten their mood failed again.
‘No, I’ve written two pages on top and provided indexes to the rest, as well as this,’ Anne said, handing Elizabeth a thumb drive. ‘Given one of your degrees is in law we figured you’d want all the evidence.’
Elizabeth stood, ready to leave, unconvinced she was any the wiser.
‘Can we just say how pleased we are that they’ve appointed someone with a commercial background,’ said George, ‘because, boy oh boy, do we need to change the culture around here. Too many “everything should be free” types.’
‘Well, I’ll see what I can do.’ Elizabeth hoisted the papers on her arm. ‘I’ll also need the paperwork on SysWA and Remembering.’
‘Michael needs to brief you on that,’ said Anne, sounding as if she would love to tell her version.
‘Good luck on that one,’ muttered George as Elizabeth left.
****
‘I hope you enjoyed the tour of my empire. Well, my part of your empire. We may be small in number but we can find out anything about anything.’ With a light bow, Josephine Baxter showed Elizabeth into her office.
Elizabeth’s meeting with Josephine and her staff had continued for almost an hour. Although the director’s powerful presence loomed over the group, it was clear Josephine’s team respected her. Elizabeth found the managers reticent when she asked for specifics but she was unsure whether this was because of her role as MD or whether they were somewhat wary of saying too much in front of their director. Either way, it left her uneasy.
The Policy and International Division was located along the corridor from the MD’s executive suite. The views were to the east and the Darling Ranges across the greens and blues of the river foreshore.
‘Hard to take, isn’t it?’ Josephine said, noticing Elizabeth’s pause to gaze through the window. ‘It annoys our corporate colleagues that government has such prime real estate.’ She waved Elizabeth to armchairs at the end of her large office. ‘It’s appropriate that the Policy Division faces east, don’t you think? The bureaucrats in Canberra would like to think that’s where we get all our wisdom.’
Elizabeth knew of Josephine’s distinguished career that included a senior policy role in the Australian Prime Minister’s Department. With a string of higher degrees, including a PhD from the London School of Economics, she could have her pick of senior jobs anywhere in the world. Elizabeth was curious about the reasons Josephine chose Perth. As, no doubt, she pondered, Josephine was about her.
‘We’ve been marking time for too long,’ Josephine said as they sat. ‘Australia’s getting behind, to put it mildly, in some IT policy areas. It’s been difficult without a permanent head that has the right connections. We desperately need some international networks.’
Elizabeth cringed. Permanent head. Shades of Yes, Minister. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as a career civil servant. ‘It’s some time since I lived in Perth,’ she said, ‘so I have some catching up to do with the local scene, both politically and otherwise. And, since I want to start with the big picture, where better than to start with the international policy division, given our looming conversations with a French corporation?’
‘Where, indeed? Do you want to talk about Vision Industries or is there anything specific from the background information I gave you that you want to explore further?’
‘You’ve all been pretty diligent on the paper front so why don’t you give me your personal assessment?’
Josephine explained the Division’s role and its major projects. Elizabeth listened to a pragmatic synopsis of the Institute’s origins and international status. While Josephine’s Singaporean connections were to be expected given her origins, her network in Europe and America was unexpected. Elizabeth wondered whether Josephine had applied for the MD’s position. If she had and there was any disappointment or resentment, it did not show.
‘You might know that the Institute was founded with some degree of controversy,’ Josephine said. ‘When both the federal and state governments changed in 2001, part of the policy focus was to position Australia as a player in the global knowledge economy. The Olympics in 2000 generated a lot of interest in Australia’s policy makers. Bill Gates and a few others stirred us up with all sorts of derogatory comments about how well placed we were in some ways to take advantage of the information revolution but how our policy frameworks were all wrong. I was in Canberra at the time and it was great to see people listen to what some of us had been saying since the 1980s.’
‘And now there are so many more issues demanding attention. Like climate change and terrorism. How do you keep politicians’ attention on information matters?’
‘It’s not easy but I must say we are fortunate in our minister. Jeremy Hayes is committed to our success. His international links helped. He lobbied for years to get the Institute created. The founding was less than orthodox.’
Elizabeth knew that the Western Australian and federal governments had agreed to establish a new organisation. She did not know its genesis had been a private sector venture capital firm based in Japan and Singapore that offered to fund research in information retrieval systems on the condition it be located in Perth.
‘The amount of research funding was huge,’ said Josephine, waving wide her tiny, manicured hands. ‘The funding was dependent on the continuing involvement of the universities, the corporate sector and the Singaporean interests. That’s where I became interested because one of the venture capitalists is a friend of my uncle.’ She pointed to two backlit display cases housing four Japanese dolls. ‘These were gifts from that company. It’s faded from the scene a bit since Roger Lui took over.’
Josephine tapped on her laptop’s keyboard and a diagram appeared on the smart board that occupied the end wall of her office. The Institute’s organisational chart appeared as a narrow pyramid. No wonder they needed a permanent head, Elizabeth thought. A general must have invented the pointy command and control approach. Or maybe a Shogun.
‘As the Institute was set up by a WA Act it had to report to a minister,’ Josephine said. ‘The bureaucrats decided they could reduce the total number of departments by moving the arts agencies as well as government information services into it. Mario will be able to tell you more about that as he and Michael Robinson lived through it.’ Josephine’s dismissive tone conveyed her lack of interest.
I’m not interested in the history either, Elizabeth thought, but she knew from her childhood that the past was always present. She wondered what promises were made to such a disparate group of players to get commitment to a new institution and what lingering resentments she might find.
Josephine continued. ‘So now we are a conglomerate of knowledge workers, librarians, museum curators, IP lawyers, government information specialists, web designers, data warehouse managers, uncle Tom Cobley and all.’ She offered another diagram that looked like a spider web. ‘You name it, if it’s got anything to do with information we’re it. In the end, the arts people escaped. It helps to have rich and powerful friends.’
Josephine leaned across to her desk and retrieved a card from her in-tray on a surface that was as uncluttered as Anne’s had been chaotic.
‘That’s an invitation to the next Art Gallery opening. Look at the sponsors. That’s what we need to attract. We should have got some big name supporters for Valkyrie. It should have been bringing people together but as you’ve noticed, it’s producing the opposite. We’ve still got a few cultural change issues to sort out.’
More discussions on cultural change were not what Elizabeth wanted. In her experience that was a piece of management-speak for blaming the staff rather than the leaders. Josephine was beginning to sound like the Harvard Business School graduate she was.
‘It’ll be good that we are such a diverse group,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We’re all interested in creating and sharing knowledge, including the artists. How do we encourage cooperation?’
‘We don’t but that’s what we need.’ Josephine took off her jacket, revealing olive-skinned muscled arms. Anne had told Elizabeth that Josephine was a champion rock-climber and had climbed in the Grand Canyon. No wonder she remained calm in the face of her colleagues’ frustrations.
‘George and Anne are brimming over with ideas,’ Josephine said, ‘but they’re focused on the Vision Industries blow-up at the moment. We need to get past that and have a bigger vision, if you pardon the pun.’
‘I wanted to talk to you about that,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I’ve got a call into Martin Cheval’s office to speak to him but I would like to hear your ideas. Some background information on SysWA and its principals would be useful as well as what you can find out about Vision’s strategies. I know Michael Robinson has been managing that relationship but he’s going to be away for the rest of the week and this is not a conversation I want to have with him on the telephone.’
Not that he’s responding to Barbara’s attempts to speak with him, Elizabeth thought, irritated again by the man’s unavailability.
‘So do you know Martin Cheval well?’ Josephine asked.
‘Our paths have crossed over the years because of his interest in rare books. My aunt was a serious collector of rare botanical and scientific books. Cheval has a similar passion but his interest is in revolutionary France. He’s a great admirer of Napoleon. My aunt and Cheval used the same book dealer.’
Elizabeth chose not to share how much she had enjoyed the many conversations with Cheval on politics and ideas whenever their paths crossed at antique book fairs. She had little interest in old books but as her aunt’s health failed she assisted her in developing the collection that Elizabeth later inherited. What to do with it was one of many neglected decisions left behind in Scotland.
Josephine’s assistant entered with afternoon tea and arranged a painted porcelain coffee pot and gilt-edged cups on the table. The pattern had an oriental flavour with red and yellow flowers but the style was sleek and modern.
‘These are exquisite,’ Elizabeth said as she took the cup and saucer from Josephine. ‘Another corporate gift from our Japanese benefactor?’
‘Aren’t they lovely? They’re mine, actually. Chinese, not Japanese, made by my aunt in Singapore. She’s having an exhibition at a local gallery here next month. You’d be welcome to join us, if you’re free.’
‘Thank you. I’d like that. Can we check closer to the time?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘We were discussing my forthcoming conversation with Martin Cheval.’
As Josephine drank her coffee, holding the cup with both hands, matching silver and diamond rings sparkled on both hands. She savoured her drink and Elizabeth waited for her to speak.
‘I have provided you with what I’ve gleaned but I’ll check the files again and see what I can get from Michael’s secretary with your authority behind me. We mustn’t let this divert us. There are issues like Vision everywhere.’
‘I hope they are not all generating such anxiety.’
‘We need to pay more attention to global trends. We have a national remit to produce blueprints for how Australia can take advantage of new developments in science, technology and ICT. We’re supposed to be influencing policy settings. I envy the Brits their Foresight UK program.’
‘I agree, it’s terrific. I thought we could set up a similar unit here.’
‘That’d be great, but we have enough difficulty getting a futures dialogue going internally, never mind with Canberra. Now you’re here with a global reach, maybe we can get decision makers to engage with us.’
‘You don’t think there is enough engagement?’
Josephine shook her head, pouring more coffee for them.
‘How long have you been battling the forces of darkness?’
Again, Elizabeth’s attempts at levity failed. Josephine’s frown remained.
‘I’ve been here since 2003. I was in the federal government’s policy unit in the Prime Minister’s Department before then. Prior to that, ancient history.’
Elizabeth realised she would get no more personal information. Josephine intrigued her. What drove this soft-spoken, fine-boned woman who straddled Eastern and Western cultures?
‘In many ways it’s exciting being out of Canberra and closer to Asian developments,’ Josephine said, ‘but it’s annoying when Canberra forgets that it was government strategy in 2002 to decentralise policy work in our areas. It’s a never-ending battle to make sure they don’t duplicate what we do.’
‘So how do you prevent that?’
‘By spending a lot of time in Canberra and Sydney, liaising with people in similar areas. It doesn’t work by e-mail. You need to have face-to-face meetings and get people to commit, eyeball to eyeball. I make sure their people come here, too. I will drive you to distraction with suggestions on how we keep on the front foot.’
‘Let me have all your ideas, then, and let’s see if we can’t shake a few trees.’
‘Of course, with all the new technology there’s no excuse for not keeping people up to date. There’s no reason to re-centralise policy work but that doesn’t stop them. Perth may be a nanosecond away electronically but the koala triangle is alive and kicking.’
‘Sounds like some of the problems I had getting my Scottish business accepted in London. I’ve often wondered why Scotland struggles so much. Look at how well the Irish did, in spite of all their troubles. Although some of that’s looking a bit shaky now.’
Unspoken were her thoughts that she hoped she had not come to a similar situation. Perth was much further from Canberra than Glasgow was from London, but she knew it was more a matter of mental than physical geography.
‘Of course, the Perth people do have to remember that we are part of a national organisation,’ Josephine said. ‘We’re not always as co-operative as we could be. At least with your appointment they can’t accuse us of being parochial.’
‘Although I did live in Perth 20 years ago and I’ve never lived in the wise eastern states.’
This time Josephine returned Elizabeth’s laughter. ‘I think the board could do more. There have been so many changes at the top and we’ve set up a lot of Chinese walls, sometimes for good reason. Not a problem for me with my years of training in being inscrutable.’ Josephine pointed to her hooded eyes under silky black hair. Softening her reserve, she explained her father was Australian. Her Chinese mother came from Singapore where her grandparents still lived. Elizabeth thought that explained the silk outfits, no doubt purchased in Orchard Road.
‘Much of what Singapore was doing with its Intelligent Island work back in the 1980s was largely ignored by Australia,’ Josephine said. ‘They’re still miles ahead of us. And given the governance disaster we’re heading for with Remembering, Valkyrie and this argument with Vision Industries, we’re in danger of not even getting out of the starting blocks.’
CHAPTER TWO
Returning to the Institute building after a refreshing walk along the river, Elizabeth stood at the foot of the steps leading to the entrance. She pondered for a moment her responsibilities for the national and international activities within. How much did she know about what she had taken on?
The Institute building had been constructed on the wide grassy foreshore between office towers and the Swan River. An L-shaped structure, it turned its back on both city and Government House, addressing its public faces south to the water and west to King’s Park. With aggressive contemporary angles and materials, it looked what it aimed to be: a high-tech facility asserting where Australia’s future industries lay. Barbara had mentioned that local wags dubbed the building ‘the belfry’ because the Premier was batty to tackle another construction project after the furore over his predecessor’s folly, the adjacent bell-tower. Elizabeth wondered why the tiny building housing the old St Martin in the Fields’ bells would cause such a storm. It was hardly the equivalent of putting the glass pyramid inside the Louvre although she remembered the perennial ‘hands off the foreshore’ mantra. Whoever had persuaded the government and city council to build on the Esplanade must have powerful connections.
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