The Algorithm

Chapter 13: The Reckoning

Takeshi sat on the edge of his hotel bed, the USB drive resting in his palm like a ticking time bomb. The dim glow from his laptop screen cast flickering shadows across the room. The evidence inside this tiny device had the power to destroy careers, upend a major research project, and expose the uncomfortable truth about AI in medicine.

But what would happen if he used it?

The threatening email still sat in his inbox, unread beyond that single chilling line:
"Stay out of this. You don't know what you're dealing with."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was this warning from someone at the hospital? Or was it a desperate move from someone trying to silence the truth?

There was only one person left who could help him decide what to do.

The next morning, Takeshi found himself back at the hospital, sitting across from Dr. Saito in her office. She studied him carefully, waiting for him to speak.

Finally, he placed the USB on the table between them.

"How much did you know?" he asked.

Dr. Saito's gaze flickered to the device before she sighed. "I suspected. But I didn't have proof."

Takeshi exhaled sharply. "Kenji gave me this. It has everything—the internal memos, emails, even edits to the research drafts before they manipulated the numbers."

Dr. Saito leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. "I don't need to tell you what happens if this gets out the wrong way."

Takeshi crossed his arms. "And what if it doesn't get out at all? Then nothing changes."

Saito's lips pressed into a thin line. "You want to make them answer for it? Fine. But don't be reckless."

Takeshi narrowed his eyes. "So you think I should just... what? Let the hospital clean up its own mess quietly?"

Dr. Saito shook her head. "No. I think you should be strategic. You have proof, Takeshi. That gives you leverage. Instead of torching the entire project, use it to force them to fix the problem."

Takeshi stared at his laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The USB drive was plugged in, its files ready to be sent.

Two email drafts were open.

One was addressed to a journalist specializing in medical ethics—a reporter with a track record of exposing failures in AI-driven healthcare. If he sent this, there would be no turning back.

The second was to a senior member of the hospital board—someone with the power to make sweeping changes if forced to.

He hesitated.

If he leaked it publicly, the hospital would go into full damage control mode, denying everything, scrambling to save face. There was a chance it would work... but there was also a chance they would just bury the project quietly and move on without making real improvements.

Instead, if he confronted the hospital first, he could force them into a corner—give them a chance to acknowledge the flaws publicly and fix them before the scandal erupted.

He clicked the send button on the second email.

The first draft remained unsent—but if the hospital didn't act, he'd make sure the whole world knew the truth.

The boardroom was quiet when Takeshi stepped in. Dr. Nakamura sat at the head of the table, flanked by legal advisors and senior hospital officials.

The mood was tense.

A woman from the hospital's legal team folded her hands. "Dr. Mulyana, you've made some serious accusations."

Takeshi kept his voice level. "I've presented evidence. There's a difference."

Dr. Nakamura's expression remained unreadable. "What exactly do you want?"

Takeshi met his gaze. "A public commitment to revising the algorithm. An acknowledgment of the bias issue. And full transparency in future development."

One of the executives scoffed. "You think a postdoc can demand that from us?"

Takeshi placed his phone on the table and slid it forward. "That's a journalist's inbox. The files are ready to go public. If you think you can contain this, you're underestimating how fast these things spread."

A beat of silence.

Dr. Nakamura exchanged glances with the board members. Finally, he exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Fine. We'll issue a statement. But we're handling this internally."

Takeshi held his ground. "No vague PR statement. A real one. The AI isn't ready for deployment until the flaws are fixed. And you'll announce that officially."

Dr. Nakamura's jaw tightened, but after a long moment, he nodded. "You've made your point."

Takeshi exhaled slowly. He had won—at least for now.

As he walked out of the boardroom, Takeshi pulled out his phone.

A new message.

Kenji: "Not bad. But don't think this is over. They'll fix what they have to—but only because you forced them to."

Takeshi stared at the message. Had he really made a difference? Or had he just delayed the inevitable?

The hospital had promised to address the bias issue. But what about the next algorithm? The next project?

Maybe this battle was won—but the real war had only just begun.