Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [8]
Many of the jokes focused on his mannerisms. Fussy, preoccupied with appearances, Blackburn was always running his hands over himself, touching his hair, his face, his suit, seeming to caress himself, to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit. This, combined with his unfortunate tendency to rub, touch, and pick his nose, was the source of much humor. But it was humor with an edge: Blackburn was mistrusted as a moralistic hatchet man.
Blackburn could be charismatic in his speeches, and in private could convey a convincing impression of intellectual honesty for short periods. But within the company he was seen for what he was: a gun for hire, a man with no convictions of his own, and hence the perfect person to be Garvin’s executioner.
In earlier years, Sanders and Blackburn had been close friends; not only had they grown up with the company, but their lives were intertwined personally as well: when Blackburn went through his bitter divorce in 1982, he lived for a while in Sanders’s bachelor apartment in Sunny vale. A few years later, Blackburn had been best man at Sanders’s own wedding to a young Seattle attorney, Susan Handler.
But when Blackburn remarried in 1989, Sanders was not invited to the wedding, for by then, their relationship had become strained. Some in the company saw it as inevitable. Blackburn was a part of the inner power circle in Cupertino, to which Sanders, based in Seattle, no longer belonged. In addition, the two men had had sharp disputes about setting up the production lines in Ireland and Malaysia. Sanders felt that Blackburn ignored the inevitable realities of production in foreign countries.
Typical was Blackburn’s demand that half the workers on the new line in Kuala Lumpur should be women, and that they should be intermingled with the men; the Malay managers wanted the women segregated, allowed to work only on certain parts of the line, away from the men. Phil strenuously objected. Sanders kept telling him, “It’s a Muslim country, Phil.”
“I don’t give a damn,” Phil said. “DigiCom stands for equality.”
“Phil, it’s their country. They’re Muslim.”
“So what? It’s our factory.”
Their disagreements went on and on. The Malaysian government didn’t want local Chinese hired as supervisors, although they were the best-qualified; it was the policy of the Malaysian government to train Malays for supervisory jobs. Sanders disagreed with this blatantly discriminatory policy, because he wanted the best supervisors he could get for the plant. But Phil, an outspoken opponent of discrimination in America, immediately acquiesced to the Malay government’s discriminatory policy, saying that DigiCom should embrace a true multicultural perspective. At the last minute, Sanders had had to fly to Kuala Lumpur and meet with the Sultans of Selangor and Pahang, to agree to their demands. Phil then announced that Sanders had “toadied up to the extremists.”
It was just one of the many controversies that surrounded Sanders’s handling of the new Malaysia factory.
Now, Sanders and Blackburn greeted each other with the wariness of former friends who had long since ceased to be anything but superficially cordial. Sanders shook Blackburn’s hand as the company lawyer stepped into the office. “What’s going on, Phil?”
“Big day,” Blackburn said, slipping into the chair facing Sanders’s desk. “Lot of surprises. I don’t know what you’ve heard.”
“I’ve heard Garvin has made a decision about the restructuring.”
“Yes, he has. Several decisions.”
There was a pause. Blackburn shifted in his chair and looked at his hands. “I know that Bob wanted to fill you in himself about all this. He came by earlier this morning to talk to everyone in the division.”
“I wasn’t here.”
“Uh-huh. We were all kind of surprised that you were late today.”
Sanders let that pass without comment. He stared at Blackburn, waiting.
“Anyway, Tom,” Blackburn