Annual Review

Image created by ChatGPT of Jeremy Betham, who inspired this story

First Quarter

A buzz of excitement rippled around the table. The prior year had been tough; profits were down, and their market share drastically decreased. However, it was all about to change with this new phone.

‘Obviously, Universe 17 will have all the usual upgrades: a longer battery, a better camera, a waterproof case, an unbreakable screen, and smarter AI. But this is where it gets really exciting’ said Shirley Bentham, Head of Product Development, stopping to smile at every face around the table. ‘Our new phone will include Seamless Neural Interface, SNI!’

The room exploded in applause.

Grinning from ear to ear, Shirley stood up and took a bow.

‘Congratulations, Shirley. Excellent work,’ said Stephen Hill, the CEO. ‘This is exactly the sort of innovation that led Jeremy King to found the company.’ At this, a few people raised their glasses to the figure in the glass cabinet in the corner. Stephen kept his eyes fixed on those at the table.

‘How will the SNI work?’ he asked Shirley,

‘Included in the box will be a neural transmitter that is attached behind the user’s ear. This  connects to the phone, allowing the user to control it with their thoughts.’ She held up a prototype of the phone and transmitter. ‘I’ve got one for each of you to try.’ She reached into a box beside her and started sliding phones across the table.

‘How much will we be selling it for?’ Stephen picked up the phone, imagining what Jeremy would say about what he’d achieved.

‘The starting price is a competitive £1,500.’

‘That seems low, for what it is. How much did it cost to develop?’ asked Stephen, examining the transmitter before sticking it behind his ear.

‘£40 billion,’ said Susan Jackson, CFO, frowning at Shirley. ‘Ha, no wonder our reserves are so low,’ said Stephen, his smile faltering. ‘If this fails…’ Unconsciously, his hand went to the three-month-old scar on his stomach. Unwillingly, his eyes were drawn to the preserved corpse of the founder encased in glass, kept in the boardroom in accordance with Jeremy’s Will. Jeremy looked back at him.

‘Not that it will,’ he said, looking away. ‘There’s nothing in the market like it.’

Second Quarter

Pop.

The cork from the third bottle of champagne shot across the room, coming to a stop against Jeremy’s glass case and dropped to the floor.

‘The pre-sales have been through the roof!’ thrilled Shirley. ‘We’ve already sold every unit scheduled to be available on release. The question now is, how many more do we order?’

‘The components are extremely rare and, consequently, expensive. I suggest we negotiate a rolling contract with our suppliers, so we have a steady stream of units becoming available without the large upfront costs,’ said Susan, sipping her first glass of champagne.

‘And risk running out?’ scoffed Stephen, knocking back his fourth glass of champagne. ‘Put in an order for another 500 million units.’

‘That would overleverage us to a dangerous degree,’ said Susan, frowning at the accounts in front of her.

‘Puh, people will climb over each other to get our phone. We’ll make back our investment before the end of the year!’ Stephen poured himself another glass.

‘Exactly, for this phone, people will wait,’ said Susan with a slight upturn of her lips.

‘Fine,’ said Stephen, rolling his eyes. ‘Only order another 250 million.’

‘That’s still…’

‘It’s decided,’ said Stephen, cutting off Susan. She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair, arms folded.

‘Any other business? What about our competitors?’ asked Stephen, smirking. As if they had any competitors anymore. 

‘Nothing new out of the other big companies. Just the same old upgrades,’ said Shirley, barely able to contain her pride. ’There is a new company that’s announcing a new product, bWave, next week. I doubt that’s anything to concern us.’

‘Fantastic! Time for lunch.’ Stephen ushered people out.

The last to leave, he walked unsteadily to stand before Jeremy’s smiling face.

‘I told you profits would bounce back. No cutting measures needed this year.’

Third Quarter

‘There’s got to be something that we can do?’ Stephen looked pleadingly around the table.

Everyone avoided his eyes, except Susan.

‘After bWave announced their embedded cognitive device, 75% of our presales were cancelled. Why buy a phone when you can have everything downloaded straight into your head?’

Stephen groaned.

‘Then that article came out, warning of the dangers of letting machines into our minds. Another 10% cancelled after that.’

‘Bloody Luddites!’

‘Maybe, we could play on that,’ said Shirley.

Stephen looked up at her hopefully.

‘Our device is less invasive than bWave. Needing a physical phone keeps you in the real world.’

Susan snorted in derision.

‘It’s worth a try,’ snapped Stephen. ‘We can’t let Jeremy down. There’s still time to save me.’

No one looked at Jeremy’s frowning face as they fled the room.

Fourth Quarter

Pages with lots of red numbers and graphs with downward projections littered the table.

Stephen sat alone at the head of the table, his head in his hands. His eyes flitted over to the cabinet encasing Jeremy and the metal coat hanger he’d wedged between the door handles.

He looked back at the paper in front of him, ‘It’s not my fault. It should have been a game changer.’

Clang!

Metal clattered on the tiled floor.

‘I can still fix this,’ he lied.

The hiss of a seal breaking, the smell of formaldehyde filled the room.

Stephen’s legs started shaking under the table. He wanted to run, to flee, but he couldn’t get up.

Thump, thump, thump, slowly getting closer.

‘I quit!’ he shouted desperately.

‘We have a contract. You can’t quit.’ The hoarse voice sent tremors down Stephen’s spine.

‘Please!’ Stephen begged, wishing he’d read the small print of his contract.

A cold, pale hand grabbed the top of Stephen’s head, yellowed fingernails digging into his scalp.

Stephen looked up into Jeremy’s glazed eyes.

‘Time for your final review!’

Stephen screamed as the flames consumed him.

© Sarah Goldsmith 2025

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