by Thomas Waite
“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.
“Date: May 2
“To: [email protected]
“From: [email protected]
“Subject: FW: Our Ivy Boy
“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.