Armstrong’s hands were raised in front of him and his shoulders were pinched together in an expression that was both playful and mischievous. He had a slight smile on his face.
Armstrong: “I don’t know. I’m just frustrated I can’t figure out how to get all of the wretched static out of my signals.”
Lee turned to Xiang, whose lips were pursed in a peculiar smile.
“This is…a little different,” Lee said.
Hertz waved Armstrong off. He said to Armstrong, “Who are you? I’ve never heard of you.”
Armstrong: “That’s because I was after your time. But I can match your discovery on electromagnetic waves and your discovery of the photoelectric effect with my discovery of the regenerative circuit and my development of frequency modulation to eliminate the problem of static in the signal, and one-up you with my development of a practical broadcasting system.”
Hertz shrugged and said nothing. And on it went as two more holographs appeared.
Lee said, “Development of the radio must be the theme this year.”
Finally, they came to the end of the line. There was a man and a woman dressed in formal attire manning a makeshift ticket booth. Lee gave a company official the two tickets she’d reserved for Xiang and herself, and led Xiang through an opening between two folding tables and toward another set of double doors. Xiang let Lee through the doors first. She was greeted by another holographic image, this one of CEO Charlie Monroe in a tuxedo. Monroe was smiling broadly. He removed his top hat, which was impressively large, with his right hand and swept his right arm down with the hat in it, and bowed deeply as he brought his right hand with the hat down and across his torso.
“Welcome,” the Monroe hologram said as he took a half-step back and gestured with his arms for them to proceed through the door.
Lee said, “These holograms get better every year.”
She led Xiang into the expanse of the second floor, which was set up to be the banquet hall for the occasion. A good number of circular-shaped tables of various sizes with plates and silverware already set had been placed throughout the room. Lee scanned the room, searching for anybody she knew. There were already a good number of people present. They were clustered into groups of various sizes spread around the room, talking amongst themselves in quiet tones.
Lee’s attention was immediately drawn to Lucy Bradford, who’d been an analyst colleague while Lee still worked on Project Magus. Bradford was talking to a man and woman on the far side of the room.
“I see an old colleague of mine I’d like to catch up with,” Lee said to Xiang. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Lead on.”
As Lee led Xiang toward Bradford, she saw Tobyn Collier, her portal analyst colleague who sat with her in the dark in the basement every day, but he was engaged in conversation with someone else and did not notice her.
Lucy Bradford, an effervescent natural redhead who’d dyed her hair brunette, smiled broadly as Lee approached. Lee introduced Xiang after they embraced and there was a quick series of exchanges as they attempted to catch up on a few months of absence in just a few short minutes. A few seconds into their conversation, Lee felt a tapping on her arm. She turned to see Xiang with a grin on his face, pointing toward something with his right arm.
“One of the hosts is using one of the VELAMEN devices,” Xiang said.
In the direction in which Xiang’s arm was pointing, Lee caught site of a hors d’ oeuvre tray, which appeared to be hovering by itself about five and a half feet above the floor. Upon closer inspection, however, she found it not too difficult to see the silhouette of a person due to the distortions in light that seemed to occur along the edges.
Lee could see that a male host, dressed in a tuxedo, was holding the tray. A peculiar black dust had been sprinkled over him and so she was able to make out parts of the tuxedo and the general shape and character of the man’s facial features and part of his torso by studying the way the dust clung to him.
“What’s a VELAMEN device?” Bradford asked.
Lee said, “It’s an acronym for Visible Electromagnetic Light Absorption and Manipulation Enabler, or something similar. Does that sound right, Xiang?”
“Yes, that’s my understanding. It’s an informal name that the Magus researchers gave to the device that resulted from the project. VELAMEN is also a Latin word meaning ‘coating’ or ‘veil.’ It’s a little silly, but it makes sense.”
“Care for a snack?” the man said through mostly invisible lips. Xiang and Lee each plucked their preferred hors d’oeuvre from the tray. They gaped at the host for a while longer, until he moved off to another part of the room.
The conversation went too quickly for Lee before Bradford had to leave to meet some other friends, and they were left alone again.
“Don’t let me monopolize our time to socialize,” Lee said. “If you see someone you’d like to introduce me to, I’m definitely up for that.”
Xiang shrugged and smiled pensively. He scanned the room once more in a three-hundred-sixty-degree circle. “I’ve seen a couple people I know vaguely, but nobody I feel compelled to catch up with.”
“You said you’ve never been to this event before?” Lee asked.
“Not yet, no. I’ve wanted to, but for some reason just never took the time to come.”
“I understand,” Lee said. “Any first impressions?”
“It’s very nice. I’m really impressed. I’m looking forward to the rest of the evening.”
“We eat first, then the dancing starts afterwards.”
They made a mutual decision to raid the punch bowl. After Xiang had filled his small cup, they were making their way toward one of the tables when Lee spotted Lukas Dvorak and Raj Bose making their entrance.
“C’mon, Xiang, I want you to meet my friends.”
Dvorak and Bose had spotted them first. Lee smiled broadly as Dvorak and Bose approached.
“Hey, Lyn,” Dvorak said.
“Hey, Luke.”
Even without heels, she was an inch taller than Dvorak, and the disparity was even greater with her heels on. She leaned in, and Dvorak hugged her.
Dvorak said, “You look spectacular tonight.”
“Thank you.”
She glanced at Bose and couldn’t help but laugh. The little Indian had his arms outstretched toward her with a pained look on his face. “What about me?”
Lee laughed. “Okay, you too.” She hugged Bose.
“You guys both look handsome tonight in your tuxedos.”
Bose wriggled the knot of his tie, stepped forward with his left foot, and slicked his hair back. “It’s just how we roll, Lyn. Just how we roll.”
Lee laughed again. Bose could make her laugh as easily as anyone she knew. “Where’ve you guys been? Xiang and I have been slumming in here waiting for you guys to get here.”
“Well, we’ve been up on the third floor,” Dvorak said. “Raj has been drooling over the radio exhibits up there.”
Lee exhaled. “Ahhhhh…that’s right. I assumed the theme for the event this year was the evolution of the radio, or something similar.” Lee was well aware that Bose was an aficionado of radio and the study of acoustics. He’d held a part-time job for many years as the sound engineer for a night club in Brooklyn. Lee turned to Xiang. “Xiang, these are my friends.” She gestured at Dvorak. “This is Lukas Dvorak. You may know him from the ordeal he had a few months ago.”
Xiang’s eyes drooped a little and he allowed a slight smile to play across his face. He said smoothly, “Oh, yes. I do remember your story, Mr. Dvorak. You were on the run there for a while.”
“Indeed, I was. The attention was unwanted, however, I can assure you.”
Xiang nodded his acknowledgment.
Lee said, “…and this is the incomparable Raj Bose.”
Raj smiled brightly and shook Xiang’s hand.
“It’s nice meeting you, Mr. Bose,” Xiang said. “May I ask what these exhibits are about that you’re r
eferring to?”
“Well, they have this unbelievable series of exhibits up on the third floor,” Bose said. “I mean, it’s just insane! They’ve got one of the suitcase radios that the allies used to coordinate the British SOE and American OSS agents during World War Two. Specifically, it was one of the British Type 3 Mark II sets that were the most common of those used. Then they’ve got one of the old crystal radios that people used to build in their homes during the 1920s along with the headset. This was before De Forest invented the vacuum tube and Edwin Armstrong made all of his enhancements. Then they also had one of the old cathedral-shaped radios made out of wood. Crazy!”
“I see. I think it’s great that you’re so excited about sound. I’ve always been fascinated by it myself.”
Bose smiled broadly. “I love sound! I love music! I love the history of both! I love all of that!” Bose waved his hands in front of him for emphasis.
Dvorak interjected, “Well, you guys can talk about your music all night, but we better get seated because I think they’re going to start serving the food and the program’s going to begin shortly.”
Paul Lanthier pulled his smart phone from the pocket inside his tuxedo coat as he sat on a padded chair on the stage with his bandmates, who’d be performing in the Ingenuity Ball. He checked his email one last time for any last-second messages from his wife, Amelie. She often sent last-second texts wishing him luck before his performances. Seeing none, he turned the phone off and slid it back into his coat pocket. It was just about time to start into the pre-dance routine, and they were required to turn off their mobile devices.
“Time to roll,” said David Straithorn, who sat behind him and to his right. Lanthier smiled to himself at the irony of the fact that Straithorn played the French horn, which was probably the least straight of any instrument he could think of, with its tube and valves curled tightly into a knot.
Lanthier nodded at Straithorn, who said, “Let’s put it all together tonight. God knows, we’ve put enough work into this.”
The performance this evening would be challenging due to the sheer number of pieces on the playlist, but they’d spent over eight weeks in preparation and everything had come together well over the past few days. Most of the band members were pros in the sense that they played routinely with various orchestras all around New York City, Long Island, Staten Island, and New Jersey. Most were also employed by Brooklyn Capital Management in one form or another. It was a good thing they had the expertise they had, Lanthier thought, as they wouldn’t have been able to pull it off otherwise.
“We’ll be fine,” Lanthier said. “G’ luck tonight David.”
Straithorn nodded back. “Luck, Paul.”
The attendees were starting to make their way down to the ballroom from the second floor, having finished their meal. There were small groups of people filling the tables set up around the perimeter. Many were checking out the exhibits, which Lanthier understood to be a chronological detailing of the development of the radio. There were a large number of HD television screens, as well as some of the two-dimensional Modern Art devices being employed. As a result, there were small clusters of people gathered around the exihibits and socializing, the light from the screens flickering throughout the room.
Joe Cutliff, the band director for the evening, appeared in front of them, dressed in his tuxedo. He smiled confidently. “Okay, ladies and gentleman. Are we ready to go tonight?”
A handful of nods and murmurs from his bandmates affirmed their confidence. Lanthier picked up his alto sax, ready for the long performance.
“This food is delicious,” Raj Bose said as he dipped a shrimp in marinara sauce and slid it into his mouth.
The group fell silent as a waiter filled Xiang’s water glass.
Xiang said, “Mr. Bose, you said earlier that you’re fascinated with sound. I share your fascination, so I’m very curious as to where this curiosity came from?”
Bose finished chewing on a bite of his steak and, swallowing, answered, “I think it was music itself that made me curious about sound. Music over the radio. I just could not fathom how music is transported via radio—how it’s broken down, sent via radio signal, and then re-assembled to sound the same as the original. I get this very odd vision in my head of a sound wave floating randomly and haphazardly in a breeze between two fixed points.”
Bose grabbed three bread rolls from a basket on the table and began juggling them.
“How about you, Xiang?”
Xiang was smiling pensively. To Lee, Xiang seemed amused with Bose.
“Nothing as fancy as that,” Xiang said. “I remember as a boy sailing on Dianshan Lake and seeing lightning off in the distance. Then, there was the delay between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder. Aside from being quite frightened, I was also very curious about the reason for this delay and what that meant in terms of the mechanisms of sound and how sound works.”
“No odd visions then?” Bose said.
“No, nothing similar to what you described. Just the simple things, really.” Xiang smiled a wry smile and glanced at Lee. Just then, a striking, lithe black man with a bald head approached the table, a broad smile on his face. He was wearing a white tuxedo.
“Hello, everyone.”
Lee said, “Oh, my gosh! How are you, Maliq?” She slid her chair out and dashed around the table to greet Maliq Okoye.
“Very well, thank you.” Okoye gave Lee a hug. “May I join you?”
Lee smiled broadly. “Yes, please join us.”
Okoye was part of the second generation of a close-knit family of West African immigrants. He spoke in a deep, resonant voice that belied his thin frame. He was known for his ability to speak fluent French. When he smiled, his white teeth shone against his deep ebony skin. Okoye took a seat next to Bose.
Bose asked, “What’ve you been up to, Maliq?”
Okoye shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, not much.”
Lee said, “Maliq, this is Dr. Xiang Wu. He’s a friend of mine.”
Maliq smiled broadly. “How do you do, Dr. Wu?”
Xiang bowed slightly, his eyelids lowering slightly, and said, “Very well, Mr. Okoye.” Xiang turned to Lee and said, “May I ask how you’re acquainted with Mr. Okoye?”
“I know Maliq through Luke. They’ve been co-workers at Brooklyn Capital Fund for some time. Or, at least, they were when Luke was still there. You’re still working on the financial capital side, aren’t you, Maliq?”
Maliq nodded. “That’s correct, Lyn. I’m still working as a financial researcher there.”
Xiang turned his attention to Dvorak and said, “And Luke is now working…where?”
Dvorak said, “I’ve since changed positions. I now work as a project manager for Venture Capital.”
Okoye said, “Or, at least, that’s what he says he does. Everything with Lukas is classified now, it seems.”
Dvorak grinned. “Not everything. Well….most everything.”
“I’ll admit I’m a little confused about the company,” Xiang said. “What’s the difference between Brooklyn Capital and Brooklyn Venture?”
Lee said, “They’re separate entities within Brooklyn Capital Management. Brooklyn Capital Management is a holding company. Brooklyn Capital Fund is an investment management firm. They manage financial capital—things like 401Ks, stocks, bonds, trusts. Brooklyn Venture Capital, as you know, Xiang, invests in technology. It does its own research and development, but it also provides start-up funds for new companies.”
“Brooklyn Venture is involved in some other things, too,” Bose said. “They have some international firms sprinkled around the globe that do some other things.”
Xiang said, “May I ask, Mr. Dvorak, what you do as a project manager?”
“I can’t discuss most of it. I work on a number of ad hoc projects.”
Lee thought back to her run-in with Dvorak via his Einstein avatar within the portal a few days prior. She knew Dvorak had access to privileged information,
including her current role with the FBI, and she felt confident Dvorak knew what information he could divulge. Frank and Reardon would’ve made sure he knew the rules.
“He travels a lot these days,” Okoye said. “Seems like I don’t see him much anymore.”
“Yes, seems I’m traveling more and more. We’ll have to go out again one of these days, Maliq.”
“And what about Mr. Bose,” Xiang said. “What is your role within the company?”
“I was just hired a few months ago,” Bose said. “I’m also working as a project manager, similar to what Luke is doing.”
A waitress approached the table, filling water glasses.
The waitress asked, “Anyone want any dessert?”
“Kaminsky bar?” Bose said to Dvorak.
Dvorak smirked. “No, thanks.”
“What did you say, Raj?” Lee asked. “What’s a Kaminsky bar?”
“Nevermind,” Raj said. “It’s not important.”
“C’mon, Raj! You can’t leave that on the table!”
Raj smiled. “Lyn, you’re impossible. Never could stand a secret. It’s nothing really. Just an inside joke between Luke and myself.”
“Raj, you’re not going to get away with—”
Lee was interrupted by the tapping of a microphone coming from the front of the room. An amplified voice said, “May I have your attention, please?” Her attention was drawn to an older man in a black tuxedo who’d made his way onto a small stage where the microphone had been placed. He was tall and thin with silver hair. Once the din of the attendees died down, the man continued.
“Thank you all for your presence here tonight. My name is Jim Messner. For those who don’t know me, I’m Chief Executive Officer of Brooklyn Capital Fund and am also a member of the board of directors of our fine company. I want to welcome all of you to the seventeenth annual Ingenuity Ball.” After a small smattering of applause, Messner continued.
“In its seventeenth year, this event has become the most popular event at Brooklyn Capital by a wide margin. This is due in large part to the work of Marietta Adamo, our talented and fearless event coordinator.” Messner had spotted Adamo at one of the tables at the front of the stage. “Marietta, if you can please stand. Let’s give Marietta a round of applause for another extraordinary effort this year.” A slender woman with dark hair in an emerald-green gown rose from her chair, turned, and waved to the attendees.
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