Terminal Value (33 page)

Heather turned to him. “I feel sorry for Stephanie and Sandeep and those left behind, but they really need to just give it up and move on.”

“At least one person is never going to be allowed to move on,” he said, his voice edgy and angry.

Heather nodded slowly, knowing he was talking about Rob. The betrayal was still raw for both of them. She decided to change the subject and snatched Dylan's iPad. She flipped through various news sites and scanned the financial pages. “Wow! The press really has whipped itself into a frenzy over this. It's amazing how they've filled their pages with self-righteous claims of the inevitability of something like this. They're so angry, they're blaming Mantric for the NASDAQ's seven consecutive days of decline.”

Dylan nodded. “Yep. And in another week, Mantric will become old news when some new scandal feeds their insatiable appetites.”

Dylan had spent the first few days of the collapse being interviewed by an Assistant U.S. Attorney named Morgan Banion. Her interest in the story peaked when he provided details on the information in Schedule B, but waned when she deemed that any other information was not pertinent to the case, or more accurately, to her success.

He watched Heather out of the corner of his eye. She was engrossed in the iPad. He reached up and caught an errant curl that had skittered across her face, and moved it behind her ear. She smiled.

Dylan thought about the world of things that had happened in the past few weeks. He'd lost almost everything except for his condo, which luckily he had enough cash to cover. Heather lost her own condo in Cambridge and ended up collecting unemployment. Dylan offered her his extra room. She agreed, with absolutely no interest in the “extra” room. Their future was uncertain, and they both agreed to take life as it came, clinging to that understanding.

He realized their relationship would never really go back to what it was just a few months earlier, especially when the two other people they had been closest to were now gone from their lives. So much of what they thought they had known about the world had been completely overturned. At least their shared experience had bonded them together; moreover, Dylan knew he wanted to be with her. He grinned as that errant tress wriggled away from her ear and blew across her face again.

“Did you see where Art and Christine failed to post bond of one million each?” said Dylan.

“Frankly, I'm surprised. I thought for sure Christine or Art or both of them would be able to snatch such a small amount out of one of their ‘off-shore' accounts!” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and laughed. She pulled the hair away from her face and attempted to, once again, anchor it behind her ear.

He laughed too and topped off their glasses. They turned their attention to well-dressed men and women six stories below, who had places to go and money to make. “It seems odd not to be part of that bustling crowd,” he said, leaning his arms on the railing and staring down at the activity below. “To have nowhere to go and nothing to do.”

“You give any thought to doing another start-up?”

“I don't know. Guess I'd need to find another catchy name.”

A warm breeze wafted across his arms.

“It was Tony's idea. MobiCelus.”

“So it was.” He half-smiled, remembering.

She flashed him a dazzling smile, placed the iPad on the deck, and stretched. “I'm going to have to do something soon. I'm running out of all the money I don't have.”

“Me too. I can't plan on living on my savings and investments forever.” He took a sip of his cold drink. “Joe Ferrano called me Saturday. I filled him in on the details I could talk about. He's pretty shook up. He liked Rob.” Dylan stopped and shook his head. It was still all so hard to believe.

Heather nodded, a sad look in her eyes.

Dylan continued. “So anyway, I told him what our lawyer is doing to try to keep us from being sucked any further into this mess. I told Joe we were beached. And get this—he said he wanted to help out somehow. As a favor.”

“Really! What's he thinking?”

“He wondered if we had any new projects that he might be able to invest in. He might be able to recoup a lot of money, since LC is now in such hot water over the Hyperfōn situation.”

Heather sat forward, an expression of interest on her face. “Us? He wants to partner with us?”

“Yeah. You're the one he really wants, but he figures he can use me somehow,” Dylan smirked.

“Very funny. Tell me more.”

“Joe's itching to figure out his next move. He called to ask if I had any ideas.”

Heather raised an eyebrow. “A very good man.”

“Yeah.”

“So what did you tell him?”

“That we might have something. I was thinking about Tony's wireless electricity device. Mr. Caruso has inherited all of Tony's patents and, believe it or not, Tony had actually already filed one on it. What do you think about approaching Tony's dad and suggesting we try to commercialize it? He'll have a rough time without the money Tony used to send him, not to mention the evaporation of the Mantric stock. This could make his life a lot easier. Plus give him the satisfaction of watching his son's work see the light of day.”

“So,” Heather said, scrunching her nose. “Remind me of what this thing is?”

“Well, as Brandon Wist explained it to me, it's not totally complete, but it looks like it can transmit power over short distances. But over long distances, the problem is that the power must be sent in a manner identical to the shape of the receiver.”

“I'm sorry—you lost me.”

“Well, basically the challenge is that the antenna receiving power via radio waves has to be perfectly matched to the correct frequency of the source transmission, or else all devices have to adapt one standard. Not exactly easy to do. I can tell by his sketch that Tony was still trying to figure out a way around this. But if we can finish what he started and make it work, it would really be huge!”

Heather remained silent for several moments, and Dylan knew her mind was throwing ideas around. Finally, she leaned in close to him and placed her hands on his knees.

“I won't claim to understand this stuff, but I like the idea of taking Tony's work to the next stage. But how do we do that?”

A small smile crossed Dylan's lips and quickly grew into a big grin. "I bet I know just the person who would have a clear understanding of how to crack this.” Dylan got up and began pacing rapidly back and forth as a plan hatched in his mind.

“Who?” she asked.

He put his thoughts in order and rushed back to where she sat. “Brandon! He would be perfect.”

“Are you serious?” Heather moved next to him. “From what you said about your meeting with him, he seemed pretty squirrely.”

“Yes, he was that, but when I left that meeting in New Jersey, I was certain his friendship and respect for Tony were genuine. And he has a double-major in computer science and electrical engineering, not to mention the fact that he's got the curious mind of a madman!” Dylan laughed and threw his arms around Heather. “Brandon will do it. I just know he will.”

Heather nestled into Dylan's arms. She looked up at him and nodded in agreement. “Let's not forget the rest of the team. Matt and Rich would be ideal team players, and I'm sure they would jump at the chance to work on this project.”

Dylan caught her enthusiasm. “We could work together. With our combined skills, we can make anything succeed.”

“I'm in, and we should snatch up Matt and Rich right away! I was very impressed with the way Rich understood the infamous Schedule B. Let's call Joe and see what he thinks.”

Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper folded over several times. “I think you should see this. I got an e-mail this morning. The reply address was a fake, but—well, there's no mistaking who it's from.” He handed her the paper. “Somehow, when I read this, I realized it was truly over.” He took a deep breath. “Go ahead. Read it.”

Heather unfolded the paper and read:

“I started monitoring Tony's e-mails after April 1st. I pulled this one, intending to delay it until we could take steps to circumvent the problem. I didn't realize he was talking about Rob. And then Tony was gone, and if I'd shown it to you, you would have thought I had done it. I didn't show it to anyone. I did my job until I couldn't stand to anymore.”

She looked up at Dylan and said one word, “Ivan?” then continued reading.

“Hey Dylan. Look, man, this is hard to write, but we've got trouble. This is no time to beat around the bush, so I'll just say it. Looks like our Ivy boy has been making a mess of things. Turns out he's been spending money before he has it and never manages to get out from under. Jerk. Or poor guy. Maybe both. Anyway, I heard from a guy who's a pretty bright dude that somebody from Mantric was looking to sell some inside information, so I did a little snooping. Shh, don't worry, nobody'll ever know. Anyway, now I'm sure, so the question is what to do? I figured I'd better talk to you first. Of course we'll stand up for him, but this is gonna cause a hell of a stink at Mantric. Well, I needed to get that off my chest so we can celebrate this afternoon when our stock goes through the roof. The sky's the limit, man! T.”

Heather returned the paper to Dylan, who slowly ripped it into tiny pieces and threw them to the wind.

“Dylan!” she yelled, stunned he would destroy a message from his best friend.

“It's OK, Heather. Tony would approve. He was a big fan of Bertolt Brecht. One of his favorite quotes was ‘Do not fear death so much but rather the inadequate life.'”

“That does sound like Tony.” She hugged Dylan.

“Yes it does. So let's call everyone and see if we can't bring Tony back!” He smiled a sad smile, but he knew he would sleep well that night.