Chapter 26 - THE REMOTEThree years after the funeral, the black remote was decommissioned.
Technology changed.
The transfer agent implemented a secure phone-based authentication system plus independent verbal confirmation for high-risk family-share transactions.
No one-button hardware.
Rebecca called me.
“Do you want the old device?”
“Why?”
“Some people keep them.”
“For sentiment?”
“Evidence. History.”
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“You pressed it at Elias’s funeral.”
“I remember.”
“Damian certainly does.”
“Then we have adequate archival redundancy.”
Rebecca smiled.
I had learned lawyer sarcasm.
The remote went through secure destruction because it contained authentication hardware.
I did not watch.
No shrine.
No frame in my office.
The button had done one thing.
Stopped a process long enough for people to ask whether I had actually agreed.
That was all I ever needed from it.
The rest came from documents.
Investigators.
Board votes.
Corrections.
Rules.
May you like
And one word I had apparently needed a billion-dollar corporation to learn how to defend.
No.
