Chapter 59 60

Chapter 59: The Shattering Illusion

New York, Lockheed Corporation headquarters.

Marlene Hewson stepped out of the elevator radiant and dignified. Her arms swung gently with her steps, and employees along the way respectfully made way, offering nods and quiet greetings, careful not to show any disrespect.

Marlene responded with a smile. To her, the gazes she received today seemed even more submissive than usual, tinged with awe, excitement, and admiration. It was clear that everyone was aware she was about to become the true number one at the company, and so such treatment was only to be expected.

The sensation of soon standing at the pinnacle of a vast pyramid, wielding life-and-death power, was so thrilling that it even surpassed the pleasure brought by the young men she had nurtured.

Today was going to be a special, memorable day, for she had received a summons to convene a board meeting. What else could the meeting's topic be?

It was a foregone conclusion that the old timers, seeing Lowell on his last legs, had finally become unsettled and desperately needed her to take control. The venerable board members had already indicated, both openly and covertly, their support for her.

As Marlene entered the large conference room, most of the directors had already arrived. Marlene Hewson, usually stern and reserved, greeted everyone warmly, as her position was about to change and it was natural to mollify and appease them. She moved to her usual seat but did not sit down. Instead, her gaze turned to a seat a few steps away at the head of the table, where she would soon be seated.

This thought plunged Marlene into a daydream, hard to extricate herself from.

"My dear Marlene, have you summoned us here for some important agenda?" a sharp voice interrupted Marlene's reverie, causing her some irritation, although she did not show it. The speaker was Nott Wollaston, one of the oldest members of the board. Quickly grasping the implication of his question, Marlene was taken aback.

"I haven't proposed any agenda. Aren't you the one who summoned us, Mr. Wollaston?"

"Me? Oh, no no, I think there must be some misunderstanding here."

Marlene and Nott Wollaston exchanged glances, both puzzled, and looked at the other two members. Only the four of them had the authority to call a full board meeting. After receiving the same negative responses from them, Marlene became even more perplexed.

Lockheed's top management usually handled routine matters, and board meetings were not called without good reason nor by just anyone besides them. No, there was one more person, but he was supposed to be too ill to rise...

Just then, to confirm Marlene Hewson's suspicions, the last voice she wanted to hear at this moment echoed in her ear.

"I called our old friends here."

Lowell Lockheed entered the room in a wheelchair, pushed smoothly by Charles Campbell, reaching the far end of the conference table — the throne of Lockheed Corporation.

"It's been a long time since I've seen everyone. I felt a bit better these past few days and thought I'd invite everyone to catch up on the company's recent affairs." Lowell's face was still pale, and he coughed continuously, but he looked spirited and smiled at the directors. "What's with the reaction? Aren't you glad to see me getting better?"

"Oh, no, of course, we're all happy to see you improving, Lowell," Nott Wollaston was the first to recover, walking over to Lowell and kissing him on the forehead.

The others quickly followed, offering hugs and well-wishes.

Only Marlene Hewson, always iron-blooded and composed, looked extremely upset, managing a forced smile and bending down to hug Lowell.

She couldn't understand it; she had seen this old man struggling to breathe more than once, confirmed with his doctor who swore he wouldn't make it to Christmas, and now he was miraculously better?

Impossible!

He must be forcing it!

He must want to prove he still mattered!

Marlene reassured herself internally, but soon, she couldn't dwell on these thoughts any longer, as the meeting began. One by one, vice-presidents and key department heads entered the room, delivering detailed reports to the board, including several of her staunchest allies.

And she, the current president, had been completely unaware!

Despite the executives still showing fear of Marlene, avoiding her icy stare, their actions spoke louder than any words. Without any prior notice to her, these things had been set in motion.

Marlene was hardly aware of the time passing as she stared intensely at the red pen in her hand, her fingers trembling with force. If it weren't for the pen's quality, it would have surely snapped.

"Marlene, Marlene."

A calling voice jolted her from her daze, only to find everyone looking at her.

"Are you alright, dear?"

 Lowell looked at her with a gentle expression, like a kind elder caring for a younger family member, yet it made her even more tense. "As I was saying, I'm getting old, and the company's matters will need your hard work. I believe you can handle it."

What? What did he mean?

Marlene steadied herself and managed a smile, nodding her head, her suspicions growing. Lowell wasn't confronting her directly; his words seemed to affirm her current position. How could he be so benevolent?

After the meeting, the old directors chattered among themselves, full of confusion as they left. Lowell signaled for Marlene to stay behind, which oddly calmed her. The situation was clearer than ever: she had been utterly defeated. Rather than leaving confused and fearful, it was better to face him directly and see what his intentions were.

Chapter 60: Human-Machine Integration

"Marlene, how long has it been since we last had a proper chat?"

Lowell Lockheed waved his hand, signaling the woman at the helm to come closer. Charles Campbell, who had been supporting the wheelchair, stepped back a few paces.

"It's been about four or five years since you fell ill," Marlene Hewson quickly understood and, after a moment of silence, moved forward and wheeled him ahead.

"Time flies so quickly. In my memory, you were always a pretty little girl. And now, decades have flown by, and you're already a grandmother. How old is little Cindy now?"

Lowell Lockheed's face showed no trace of animosity towards her, just the demeanor of an elder making small talk, which made Marlene feel uneasy. However, at his question, she couldn't help but show a bitter smile, whether for her failed coup or the passage of time.

"She's six, already in elementary school. A beautiful little darling, very sensible."

Talking about her granddaughter seemed to brighten her expression.

"I think I held her when she was just born. I had Charles prepare a little gift; don't forget to take it with you later."

Lowell Lockheed was very talkative, continuing to chat about various topics until they returned to his office at the top floor, rambling like any ordinary old man.

"You are too kind, sir."

Marlene was surprised, but quickly responded.

"Ah, don't mention it. I've always thought of you as one of my own children, but I haven't been able to show much concern due to my illness. By the way, have you seen the news? Los Angeles hasn't been very peaceful lately."

Lowell casually gestured towards the TV, which was broadcasting an interview about the massacre on Ninth Street in Los Angeles. Despite the news blackout making details murky, it didn't stop public and media fascination, with even sparse eyewitness accounts sparking widespread discussion, now a nationwide sensation.

"Oh? I've heard. It sounds like a lot of baloney, some people just like to tie these events to paranormal activities to get attention."

Marlene didn't quite understand why he kept bringing up seemingly unrelated topics, yet felt compelled to patiently respond. Americans seemed to have a particular fondness for such bizarre subjects.

From haunted houses in Connecticut to psychic phenomena, to the so-called secret alien bases in Nevada, most treated these as juicy gossip, no longer caring about the truth. In her view, far more concerning were the severe incidents like school shootings and serial killings.

"Who can be sure?" Lowell Lockheed pursed his lips, a mysterious smile crossing his face as he watched Marlene for a moment. Just as she grew uneasy, he shook his head. "Tell me, Marlene, at this stage in our lives, what is the most important thing to you and me?"

Marlene grew increasingly puzzled, struggling to keep up with Lowell's topics and pace. This was not a good sign, leaving her unable to gauge his intentions and thoughts. She had a strange feeling that Lowell, having unexpectedly recovered, seemed like a changed person, more daunting than before, like a silent deep lake hiding unknown depths.

Yet she wouldn't be easily swayed, so after a brief silence, she coldly replied:

"Wealth and power."

Lowell laughed heartily, pleased, then pointed at her and said:

"I knew you would say that. So, which do you think is more important?"

Marlene Hewson frowned:

"Wealth and power are closely linked, inseparable. Only in certain situations do we highlight one attribute over the other."

Lowell nodded in approval, then said:

"An interesting viewpoint. I used to think the same, but a wise old sage enlightened me. Wealth and power are merely external manifestations; at their core, they are the same—both are forms of energy, adhering to the laws of conservation and transformation. Lately, I've been wondering why I haven't looked beyond wealth, power, or anything else to see the true nature of energy. Energy is what's most important. In terms of external manifestations, it turns out that health, youth, and even strength are what I value more."

Marlene's brows knitted together, and after a long silence, she slowly said, "These are indeed important, but often they are beyond our control. It's pointless to emphasize things we can't control."

Lowell's face again revealed that inscrutable smile: "That's not necessarily true, have I not recovered?" Before Marlene could respond, he continued, "You'll understand in time. For now, I hope you can handle the company's affairs well. When the time is right, I might even surprise you. How does that sound, dear Marlene?"

This normally strong-willed woman felt at a disadvantage today, the sensation of having nowhere to leverage herself was not pleasant, but her overconfidence caught off guard, she could only swallow the bitter pill and accept his olive

 branch—at least as a form of compromise.

"As you wish, sir."

"Thank you, Marlene. Now, let's get down to business."

Lowell smiled contentedly, then lifted his hand to signal Charles Campbell, who had been quietly standing nearby, to pick up a document and hand it to Marlene.

"This is a new research and development plan. I want you to take it seriously as the company's next most important project."

Marlene opened the folder and saw the title on the first page:

"Ghost-1 Implant Powered Armor Development Plan."

She looked up, puzzled, realizing that this project sounded very similar to one of the company's current research categories.

Exoskeletons and tactical light armor have always been projects of great importance around the world, including at Lockheed Martin, which has executed several phases of development. From the earliest battery-powered, hydraulic-driven Bomberhulc basic series of exoskeletons to the more advanced Fortis dual-use exoskeletons for military and civilian use, some have already been put into practical use, although their effects have fallen short of expectations.

Lockheed Martin is now fully committed to the "Tactical Assault Light Armor" super project, a cross-disciplinary, multi-level research team of massive proportions, including bioengineers, combat experts, technology elites, and even biologists studying insect exoskeletons, making it an all-star lineup for such projects.

With this background, Marlene Hewson couldn't fathom why they would list a similar project separately. It seemed utterly illogical, a complete waste of resources. If the TALOS project team couldn't make a breakthrough, she didn't believe Lockheed on its own could succeed.

However, before she could voice her doubts, Lowell shook his head as if he understood her thoughts: "Keep reading, Marlene. This isn't what you think."

Suppressing her confusion, Marlene continued to read, but her questions went unanswered, and her frown deepened. From the project document, she could discern the research focus—on enhancing the power amplification of the power armor, improving the intelligence and sensitivity of the transmission system, and… neural transmission pathways?!

Human-machine integration?!

She looked up, startled: "This is impossible!"

It was no wonder Marlene was so shockingly discomposed. Not to mention that the proposal skipped over the most critical and challenging peak of power armor—the energy power system. The core idea alone—connecting the human brain to the armor processor via an implanted chip to use neural responses instead of artificial intelligence to control the armor—seemed utterly far-fetched.

The billions of nerve endings in the human body represent the most complex and mysterious ultimate domain. Theoretically, the human brain has potential that even the most advanced computers today can't match, but humans themselves can't control or utilize this potential, not even one ten-thousandth of it.

Imagine using the human brain to control and execute a series of complex, high-speed commands to drive various parts of the armor accurately and efficiently. How could this possibly work? The brain itself would likely collapse under the strain first.

She completely disagreed with this so-called idea. If anyone other than Lowell had presented this plan, she might have thrown the document in their face. Even so, she shook her head repeatedly.

"That's not a rigorous attitude, Marlene. If a concept is theoretically feasible, then it can become reality, just like past technological breakthroughs. The key is figuring out how to overcome the obstacles to make it happen, right?"

Lowell was not at all surprised by her reaction and continued with his unwavering tone. "Besides, we don't need to worry about that part; we just need to ensure the functionality of the mentioned armor components. Imagine, if the human body could exert super strength, agility, and neural responsiveness, wouldn't this plan be perfect? As for enhancing human capabilities, that's for our partners to handle."

"Partners?" Marlene caught on to the crucial point.

"Yes, we will be collaborating with SolarCorona Biotechnologies on this project. They will handle the development of human potential, and they will lead the project," Lowell confirmed.

Marlene quickly remembered, this was that new company founded by the young man Bruce Lee. They had such research capabilities? But since Lowell had proposed it, she had to seriously consider it. If it was indeed feasible, even just partially, it would undoubtedly be a monumental achievement.

"Trust me, Marlene, this will be a promising project."

Lowell concluded with a smile.

Marlene Hewson left with a mind full of doubts; the amount of information today was overwhelming, and she needed time to digest it all.

"Is it a good idea to work with Bruce Lee, sir?"

Charles Campbell, equally shocked by Lowell's sudden recovery, was also curious about his dramatically different attitude towards Bruce Lee. Though he had his suspicions, unlike the passive Marlene Hewson, he had grown accustomed to obeying the old man who had raised him. His job was to continue protecting him.

"He is a miracle, Charles. You'll understand in time."

Lowell Lockheed sighed and rose from his wheelchair, gently moving his body. To make his recovery less conspicuous, he would have to continue accompanying the wheelchair in public for a while longer.

"Why are we collaborating with them on the powered armor project if our genetic program has such potential?"

Meanwhile, others were asking the same question.

"How to make something more acceptable to people is very important. People dislike monstrous appearances but admire the likes of Iron Man. We'll create what they expect to see. Seeing something they've subconsciously anticipated come to life makes it easy for them to overlook other aspects," Bruce spoke into the phone to Gilbert Gordon on the other end.

The special mutations resulting from human modification might make people sensitive, but cloaked in powered armor, the public would find it much easier to accept, because they are more tolerant of what has already entered their field of vision. And when consortiums, corporations, and even the military taste the benefits, how could they easily give up such a tempting project? The trend would inevitably shift towards their expectations, irreversibly.

"By the way, how is Mr. Faraday doing?"

"Everything is normal. He's quietly lying low, no anomalies so far, and is ready."

"Good, let's see how they treat this gentleman."