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behind him, two black dragons in a yin-yang posture devouring each other’s tails. Words in neon red wrap around them.
    MX Global Corporation: Paradise Now.
    Van Pelt looks up from the desk and rises to speak in a deep baritone voice with the hint of a British accent, well-known throughout the corporation.
    “Since the time my grandfather founded this company, we have prided ourselves on being nimble. Our ability to respond quickly to every opportunity is our most valuable asset. That is the purpose for this emergency meeting of the board of directors, called pursuant to the procedure described in the bylaws. We apologize for the short notice and sincerely appreciate your attendance. The extraordinary circumstances that require a meeting will be apparent as we proceed.”
    A mechanical smile graces Van Pelt’s face. He wipes a thin film of sweat from his brow and steals a glance at Ryzaard, who displays no hint of emotion.
    Looking back at the directors, Van Pelt drones on.
    “As specified in the bylaws, we will
not
record the proceedings of this meeting. The only record will be a written consent signed by a majority of the directors at the conclusion. Let me note that eleven of the directors are present in person, including myself, constituting a quorum sufficient for the conduct of any business that may come before the board. Any decision rendered by six of the present directors will be the final decision of this body.”
    Van Pelt’s shoulders have visibly hunched up closer to his ears, and he exhales loudly, forcing them down in a futile attempt to appear relaxed.
    “I note the high security that is necessitated by the sensitive nature of the matters to be discussed tonight. For that reason, no directors are attending by video and no com-links or Mesh connections to this room will be permitted until our business is concluded and the meeting is adjourned.” Van Pelt glances up at the other directors. “I apologize for the necessity of temporarily disabling your personal communication devices.”
    The last comment seems to wake up the directors. A noticeable stir ripples through the room as each of them discover, perhaps for the first time in years, that their jaxes have gone dark.
    There is a palpable sense of increased isolation. The tightening of a noose.
    Van Pelt clears his throat. “I can assure you that all communication devices will be restored to full functionality immediately after this meeting is adjourned. We have taken this unusual step only in the interest of the highly confidential nature of the information which we are about to discuss.” He tries his best to put a sympathetic look on his face while maintaining his business-like demeanor.
    More than a few eyes focus on the jax lying on the table in front of Ryzaard and the green telltales of a working device connected to the Mesh. He makes no attempt to hide it.
    Van Pelt shifts on his feet. The sound of squeaking leather shoes pierces the silence of the room. “In addition, it will be necessary for each of the directors to execute a confidentiality agreement. Copies have been sent to the bluescreens on your desks.” Van Pelt nods, directing his audience to look at the wall behind him.
    The first page of a document appears in print too small to read.
    “Based on the advice of Mr. Cunningham, our general counsel, we will not be able to proceed further until each of you duly sign and date this document on the last page. Light pens have been provided for that purpose at each of your desks. Mr. Cunningham assures me that the contents of the agreement are entirely customary, nothing more than simple boilerplate.”
    On the other side of Alexa, Cunningham nods gravely. The glossy surface of his black hair reflects the light like polished obsidian.
    There is silence in the room as each director looks down at the document appearing on their desks.
    One of them raises his hand.
    Van Pelt raises his eyebrows.
    The director hesitates, swallows, and then