The Algorithm

Chapter 9: The Edge of Exposure

Takeshi read the email again. "If you don't act now, someone else will—and you won't like how they do it." The words burned in his mind, sending a wave of unease through him. Someone else was pulling strings behind the scenes, and they weren't waiting for him to make his move.

He considered replying but stopped himself. Whoever this was, they had already taken action before he could. His best bet was to stay focused on what he could control.

The next morning, the research team was finalizing the conference slides. Takeshi and Hiro managed to insert the key slide that subtly highlighted the algorithm's bias. It wasn't dramatic, but it was enough to force a discussion when the presentation went live.

"We just need to make sure it stays in," Hiro muttered as he double-checked the file. "If it's in the deck, they'll have to address it."

Takeshi nodded. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it was the best move they had without outright blowing everything up.

Then, just before lunch, Dr. Nakamura made an unexpected announcement.

"I'll be presenting the algorithm at the conference myself," he said, standing before the team. "Given the importance of this project, leadership believes a senior representative should deliver the results."

Takeshi's stomach dropped. That wasn't the plan.

"What about the rest of us?" someone asked.

Dr. Nakamura gave a tight-lipped smile. "You've all done excellent work, and your contributions will be recognized. But it's best if we present a clear and unified message. Too many voices might lead to unnecessary confusion."

Takeshi caught Hiro's glance—he was thinking the same thing. They were being cut out.

And if Nakamura had full control, what were the chances their key slide would survive?

Just when Takeshi was deciding his next move, the research team's group chat exploded with messages.

"Did you see the email? Who leaked this?"
"What the hell? Someone sent the internal report to the entire department!"
"This is bad. REALLY bad."

Takeshi's breath caught as he opened his inbox. An internal email had leaked—someone had circulated the very document he had found about the hospital ignoring the bias issue.

The impact was immediate. Confusion. Panic. Damage control.

Within an hour, Takeshi saw department heads huddling in closed-door meetings, whispers spreading across the research wing. Staff members stared at their screens, reading through the leaked report that confirmed the hospital had known about the algorithm's issues but pushed forward anyway.

Takeshi gripped the edge of his desk. I didn't do this.

But someone else had.

By late afternoon, the hospital had issued an internal memo claiming the report was being "taken out of context" and reassuring staff that the algorithm had undergone rigorous testing. Damage control was in full force.

Dr. Saito pulled Takeshi aside. "This leak is a disaster," she said, lowering her voice. "It's made the entire hospital look like it's covering something up."

"It's not wrong," Takeshi muttered.

She shot him a sharp look. "That's not the point. You were trying to force the hospital's hand carefully. This? This has thrown everything into chaos."

Takeshi clenched his jaw. She was right. His plan had been to subtly nudge the issue into the open—not to expose everything in a way that could backfire completely. Now, the hospital was scrambling to protect its reputation, which meant they would do everything they could to control the narrative.

And if the hospital felt backed into a corner, it was possible that no changes would be made at all.

Despite the chaos, the hospital decided to move forward with the conference as planned. The research presentation would not be canceled, though extra precautions were being put in place to prevent "unauthorized disruptions."

As Takeshi took his seat in the conference hall that evening, he scanned the room, wondering who had sent that leak.

Was it someone inside the research team? A frustrated junior member? Or was it someone higher up, someone who had waited for the perfect moment to force this out into the open?

He didn't know. But what he did know was that the presentation was about to begin.

And no one in the audience was prepared for what was coming next.