One year ago
The conference room was packed, the clanking of chairs and lively chatter filled the air as everyone was settled in.
Edmundsson stood at the front next to Meyer, a confident smile plastered on his face. Holo-screens lined the walls, each displaying various graphs, charts, and projections of the future of nanobot technology.
Someone put a lot of cash into this, Niko thought.
“All right, everyone, settle down,” Edmundsson began, his voice full of excitement. He had called in an emergency town hall for almost everyone in SPA. “We’ve got some big news today,” he announced.
Niko exchanged a glance with Ryan, who was sitting next to him. Ryan looked just as curious and excited as Edmundsson. Meyer had been hinting at major developments for weeks, and it seemed they were finally about to find out what it was.
“I will cut right to the chase. With promising data from our first human trials, we are ready to take the next step. I am proudly announcing before you today that we have officially formed a company to bring our nanobot technology to market. Everyone, meet NAPPA Inc.”
A murmur rippled throughout the room as a sleek logo with the letters “NAPPA” appeared on the holo-screens. The logo had a sleek, metallic nanobot icon with glowing electric-blue accents.
Edmundsson gestured toward the display. “NAPPA stands for nanotechnology, a pioneering pharma company pushing scientific advancements to the forefront. And this also constitutes our principles. The main goal of NAPPA Inc. will be to make our nanobot technology accessible globally. Singapore will be our headquarters, thanks to its strategic position between East and West, with me as the company CEO.”
Niko stared at him in shock. Edmundsson the CEO? It somehow made sense, as he was the official project lead, but Niko still felt that he had been overlooked.
“As a result of that, I would like to invite all of you to join us in our new company headquarters in the heart of Singapore.”
Applause all over.
General Meyer, standing next to Edmundsson, nodded approvingly. Even Kuryakov, sitting opposite of Niko, leaned back in his chair, looking relieved.
Niko shot him an accusing look.
“I have three kids to feed, Niko,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the excitement in the room. “We need this.”
Niko nodded but was still hurt. Furthermore, the shift from scientific research to corporate enterprise felt jarring.
He caught Ryan’s eye again, and Ryan mouthed, “Here we go.”
I’m not gonna ruin everyone’s night over some petty competition, Niko thought. Breathe!
Edmundsson continued, “Our initial disease targets will be Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, and stroke. These are conditions affecting millions of people around the world, and we have the technology to make a difference. But that’s just the beginning. Here at NAPPA, we have a vision: Once NAPPA moves into disease prevention, offering NanoChip to healthy individuals, we will be able to help and prevent disease in billions of people worldwide!”
Excitement filled the room.
“Everyone wants a piece of this,” Edmundsson said, echoing his words from a previous strategy meeting. “We need to act fast. In the past months, Marsha and I have met with many investors and venture capitalists from both the US and China, who want to invest and participate in this revolutionary technology. So, let us raise our glasses to this new milestone!” He raised his glass, as did everyone else.
“I’m pretty sure your investors have no clue where this tech coming from,” Niko muttered to himself, sipping on his champagne. But he was seemingly the only with negative thoughts. In fact, as Niko looked around, the room was electric. Even Priya had a broad smile on her face.
Niko found himself lost in thought.
Ryan saw this and nudged him as they were leaving. “Looks like things are about to get crazy.”
“Yeah,” Niko replied, still processing everything. “Crazy is an understatement.”
“We’re going home, baby!” Ryan shouted, raising his glass toward Edmundsson.
The following weeks were busy. Although Niko felt a pang of nostalgia, Singapore’s familiar sights and sounds quickly enveloped him. The bustling streets, the towering skyscrapers, and the multicultural vibrancy all brought a sense of comfort. Every time he stepped out, the humid air hit him like a warm embrace, revitalizing his spirit. Even his old apartment seemed more spacious now.
Settling into his new corporate office, Niko quickly found himself getting swept up in the excitement of the commercialization efforts. The upcoming meetings with investors, the planning for large-scale clinical trials, and the prospect of changing millions of lives with their technology began to brighten his mood.
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His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of his office door.
Priya, who had taken over the role of global project director in NAPPA, a significant shift from her former CIA career, stepped in. Despite her demanding schedule, she always found time to check in on Niko. Entering his office, her expression was a mix of excitement and concern.
“Have you seen the latest projections? We’re going to make history with this launch.”
Niko forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s incredible. The impact this technology will have on people’s lives … it’s beyond anything we could have imagined.”
Priya sat down across from him, sensing his unease. “But?”
“But … what about the Egg? The signal it was sending? We still don’t know its full purpose. We’re sitting on something extraordinary, and we’re not even exploring it anymore.”
Priya nodded, her expression serious. “I know, Niko. But the company is the priority now. The investors, the board, everyone is focused on getting NanoChip to market. It’s hard to keep the focus on the unknown when the known is so close within our reach.”
Niko leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “It just feels wrong. We discovered this incredible technology, but we’re ignoring its origins. The potential risks of it—”
“Niko.” Priya’s smile faded slightly. “We’ve talked about this in the team, several times. The Egg is secure. Lopez has disrupted any outgoing signals from it to ensure there’s no risk. Our focus needs to be on the NanoChip and its potential to change lives. The world is waiting.” Trying to alleviate his concerns, she added, “But I see your point. Maybe we can allocate some resources to continue the research on the Egg, even if it’s in the background. I will speak with Meyer and see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Priya, I really appreciate it.”
Later that evening, As Niko dove into the hustle and bustle of Singapore, he allowed himself to embrace the present, hopeful that they were on the right path.
What did it matter that they weren’t researching the Egg? They had worked hard over the last two years and were now reaping the fruits of their labor. So, what did it matter who’s the CEO? Niko was part of the leadership and could help steer the course of the company.
Niko took a deep breath of Singapore’s smoggy air, feeling a sense of determination settle over him.
Several months had passed, and the euphoria surrounding the upcoming launch of NanoChip was palpable. Every member of the team walked with a spring in their step, energized by the realization that their work was on the cusp of changing the world. Niko felt more and more a sense of pride and accomplishment, seeing more and more patients who had once had no hope now exhibiting remarkable improvements.
Thomas Edmundsson, the CEO, was a whirlwind of activity, a different person to the one whom Niko had known before. His enthusiasm was infectious as he spearheaded the final preparations for the launch with a fervor that left others in awe. He juggled meetings with investors, regulatory bodies, and the media, always exuding confidence and charisma. Niko had to admit that Thomas was doing a great job representing them.
The only drop of bitterness was that Alessandro Lopez had unexpectedly quit the company a few weeks earlier. The departure of their CIO had been abrupt and unexplained, leaving the team in a lurch. Lopez’s technical prowess and his paranoid vigilance had been the cornerstone of their data security, and his absence left a noticeable void.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Late one evening, with the office nearly empty, Niko was engrossed in the latest data when a frantic knock broke the silence. He opened the door to find Amanda Zhang, one of Edmundsson’s associates, her face ashen and eyes wide with fear.
“Niko, you need to come. It’s Thomas … Something’s happened,” she stammered.
Niko’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”
“Just come,” she urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the hallway.
They rushed through the empty corridors, their footsteps echoing ominously. As they approached Edmundsson’s offices, they found a small crowd of colleagues gathered outside, their faces etched with worry and confusion. General Meyer was already there, speaking in hushed tones to the security personnel.
Niko pushed his way through the crowd, his pulse racing. Inside the room, Edmundsson lay slumped at his desk, a syringe on the floor beside him and an empty vial on the desk. The scene was eerily calm.
“What the hell happened?” Niko demanded, his voice trembling.
General Meyer looked up, her expression grave. “We don’t know yet. It appears to be a suicide, but we can’t be certain until we investigate further. We found him just half an hour ago.”
Niko felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Suicide? Thomas Edmundsson, the brilliant, arrogant, seemingly unbreakable scientist, had taken his own life? It didn’t add up.
“Are you sure? Did he leave any note? Any explanation?” Niko asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
General Meyer shook her head. “No note, nothing. We’re conducting a full investigation, but until we know more, we need to keep this contained.”
As the room buzzed with whispered speculations, Niko’s mind raced. He remembered the tension between them, the heated arguments, and the underlying resentment. But suicide? It felt wrong, out of character for the man who had thrived on challenges and confrontation.
The next few days were a blur of investigations and hushed conversations. The official word for the public was that Edmundsson had died of natural causes. Nothing should disturb the launch, the board decided.
Ryan was oddly calm throughout the ordeal. His composed demeanor was both reassuring and unsettling to Niko, who found it hard to reconcile with the chaos around them.
“Ryan, doesn’t this feel strange to you?” Niko asked one evening as they worked late together. “Edmundsson was under a lot of stress, but suicide? It doesn’t make sense. He seemed so together recently.”
Ryan looked up from his work, his expression unreadable. “People react to pressure in different ways, Niko. Maybe Thomas reached a breaking point we couldn’t see. Maybe he was depressed.”
Niko frowned. “I still don’t get it. He was always so resilient, so …”
“So arrogant? Yes, but even the strongest minds have their limits,” Ryan interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “We need to focus on our work now, for the sake of the project and everyone involved. You gotta let this go, buddy.”
Despite Ryan’s words, Niko couldn’t shake his doubts. He spent the next several weeks turning in bed, pouring over every detail of Edmundsson’s recent activities, searching for clues that might explain the unexplainable. He found nothing definitive, only fragments that hinted at a man grappling with unseen demons.
As NAPPA Inc. continued to expand, the memory of Edmundsson’s mysterious death lingered. The public knew only of the remarkable advancements in medical science, with Edmundsson’s death being seen as a tragic yet natural cause. Investors remained enthusiastic, and the rollout proceeded as planned.
The board quickly moved to appoint a new CEO.
“We believe in you, Niko,” the board said. “You’re the right person to carry Edmundsson’s vision forward.”
Niko couldn’t lie; he was proud of the trust they put in him. Therefore, he accepted the role, determined to steer the company through the storm and to honor Edmundsson’s memory by bringing success to NAPPA. But he still couldn’t escape the feeling that something crucial had been overlooked.