Kenji considered that.
Then nodded.
“Good answer.”
The media eventually lost interest.
It always did.
The dramatic headlines faded.
Markets stabilized.
Transatlantic’s valuation recovered part of its losses over the following year.
The company remained damaged, but alive.
More importantly, its internal data began showing something different.
Complaints about premium-cabin gate treatment declined.
Escalations became more consistent.
Passengers were less likely to report feeling challenged simply for standing in a place they had paid to occupy.
Not perfect.
Systems involving people never were.
Better.
Months later, Alexander flew Transatlantic again.
The decision caused a small argument inside Nexus.
Kenji preferred another carrier.
Maya said avoiding Transatlantic forever would make every future trip look like a statement.
Alexander booked the ticket himself.
JFK to London.
First class.
Seat 2A.
When he entered the lounge, a young attendant greeted him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thorne.”
Alexander stopped.
“You know me?”
The attendant smiled nervously.
“Most of aviation knows you now.”
“That sounds unfortunate.”
She laughed.
“Coffee?”
“Black.”
She brought it.
Then she continued serving everyone else.
Alexander appreciated that more than special treatment.
At the gate, the agent scanned his boarding pass.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Thorne.”
No hesitation.
No secondary glance.
No surprise.
He boarded.