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Authors: Rudy Rucker

Spaceland (21 page)

BOOK: Spaceland
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“No,” said Tulip quickly. “I'm about to go out for supper.”
“Stay there. We'll come over. I'll bring beer and pizza.”
“Oh, all right. Bring juice and ice cream, too.”
So we held our first team meeting at Mophone world headquarters.
To start with, we got ourselves psyched up to the point of faxing in resignation letters to our real jobs.
Next, Spazz drafted us a patent application for me to take to Stu Koblenz. He said it didn't matter if the patent didn't actually explain how we made the antenna crystals.
And then we sent out some emails to try and set up meetings with possible business angels—including Clement Treed. We told everyone we had an “operational and patented technology for broadband comm with low power and no EM spectrum conflicts.” In the current Silicon-Valley-speak, a venture capitalist was a buttoned-down manager who invested other people's money for them. They were, of necessity, somewhat cautious. We were looking for rich guys ready to plunge in with their own cash. They were the business angels.
Over the course of our evening, Tulip went out of her way to pay a lot of attention to Spazz. Smiling at what he said, sitting next to him, telling him things. So it was pretty awkward when, around ten o'clock, Spazz and Jena left together, leaving Tulip and me alone. Tulip looked at me, burst into tears and disappeared into her room as fast as she could.
The next day, Tuesday, January 3, 2000, I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off.
At nine A.M. I went to Kencom. Before Ming would give me my termination papers, I had to undergo an exit meeting with Ken Wong. This was a minefield to be carefully crossed. Though Ken came across as polite and preppy, he was a tiger when it came to business. But I knew how to say the right things. I taped the conversation to make sure that the other three would follow exactly the
same line in their own exit meetings, which were scheduled a little later in the day. Inside his desk, Ken had a tape recorder going too; I could see it with my third eye.
I was frank with Ken about the reasons Spazz and I were leaving. I told him that we were founding a start-up named Mophone to productize a new idea we had. Ken feigned anger and brought out the intellectual property rights waiver I'd signed when joining Kencom. I stated that our new technology had nothing at all to do with Kencom research and that it was something which Spazz, Tulip, Jena and I had developed completely on our own time.
Ken threatened to sue me, and I said Mophone would vigorously defend itself‘and that he would lose. And then, as I'd hoped, he changed his tack. He wondered if I might be interested in making my new company a subdivision of Kencom. I said that we wanted to be fully autonomous—but that we would certainly be open to letting Ken and his backers be on the list to see the pitch for our upcoming round of seed funding. I pointed out that this would also be a good way for Ken to reassure himself that we were not using any Kencom technology. Ming Wong phoned Jena and signed up Ken for a slot.
Back at the Mophone headquarters, I played my meeting tape for the others, and then they went off for their own exit meetings: Spazz to Kencom, Tulip to ExaChip, and Jena to MetaTool.
That afternoon, we four met up again. Apparently Ken Wong had pressed Spazz really hard to stay on, but Spazz claimed he hadn't wavered. Stu Koblenz came over and we four worked out our deals with each other, as well as setting an antenna crystal patent application in motion. And meanwhile Jena was on her laptop and cell phone, playing the investor nibbles that were coming in. We lined up seven meetings for Wednesday, starting with Ken Wong at eleven and ending with—yes!—Clement Treed at five o'clock.
After Stu left, Jena and I set up a computer spreadsheet to plan
our marketing and distribution, while Spazz and Tulip. started hand-drawing some Unified Modeling Language diagrams for the classes and interaction sequences needed for the embedded Mophone firmware.
Even though we were working together. Jena was kind or holding me at arm's Length. She was plenty talkative about all the business things, but if I asked any kind of personal question, she'd brush it off with a short, neutral answer. And I couldn't get her to smile. I couldn't help noticing that Spazz and Tulip in the kitchen were having more fun than we were; their voices were going up and down, exclaiming, interrupting, laughing. What it came down m was that both the women liked Spazz and neither of them liked me.
I felt in my pocket for my grolly, but I'd eaten it all.
“I've had it,” I told Jena. “I'm ready to knock off. Should we get something to eat?”
“Oh, I think I'll go home,” said Jena blandly. “Tomorrow's going to be a big day.” We peered into the kitchen, where Spazz and Tulip. were bent cheek-to-cheek over a sheet of paper with lines and boxes on it. Spazz was drawing an arrow, and Tulip playfully yanked the pencil out of his hand to add a label to the arrow. Spazz chuck led.
Jena didn't like it any more than I did. “Come on, Spazz,” she said. “Let's go home.”
Tulip snapped her head around and glared at Jena. “Just a minute,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Spazz, glancing our way but not really seeing us. “We've almost worked out the class inheritance tree.”
“You want to walk to 7-Eleven with me to get some cigarettes?” I asked Jena.
“Oh, all right,” she said. “Get ready to leave in ten minutes. Spazz.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, leaning over the diagram.
So then Jena and I were outside together in the early January night. It was dry, with a damp breeze. Out of reflex, I tried to take her hand, but she shoved hers into her pocket.
“Don't, Joe,” she said. “Just really let it be over.”
“I know you're right,” I said. “We've been making each other miserable. But, still. When I see you …”
She stopped and looked at me. Her pink cheeks, the bow of her lips, her narrow eyes seeing into me as clearly as if she had subtle vision. She was motionless as a picture, waiting for my next move. I had a sudden odd image of her as a video game I'd lost my last quarter in. Yes, yes, it really was titne to let go.
“We'll be friends,” I said. “That's all.”
“Good,” said Jena. “I'd like that. I need friends.”
I got my cigarettes and we started back.
“I do have to ask what you see in Spazz,” I said. “He's like the opposite of me,”
“Duh?” said Jena, and finally laughed. “I don't see Spazz and me lasting very long,” she added. “He's like—like when someone gives a prisoner a cake with a hacksaw blade inside it? Spazz was my hacksaw blade. As long as we're being nosy, what's the story with you renting a room to Tulip? You're after her, aren't you? That zitty geek.”
“She's nice,”I said. “But I don't think she's over Spazz.”
“I don't like her,” said Jena. “The way she glares at me with those big cow-eyes. And her skin! Do you think she ever takes a bath?”
“Lighten up, Jena. You're the one who has Spazz, not Tulip.” I lit my third cigarette in a row as we walked up to the new house. I'd expected Jena to say something about my smoking, but she didn't. She went inside while I finished my smoke.
“I can't find them!” cried Jena, suddenly reappearing. Her forehead was an asterisk of wrinkles and she was biting her thumbnail.
I quickly used my subtle vision to go over the rooms of my house. They wouldn't actually be in Tulip's bedroom, would they? No, at least not that. They'd left entirely. Spazz's motorcycle was missing from where he'd parked it beside the house.
“Maybe they went to get more food,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“Oh, just get me out of here,” said Jena. “Give me a lift home.”
We didn't talk much on the ride to 1234 Silva View Crescent. I dropped Jena, drove back to the house on Los Perros Boulevard and then I was home alone. Have I mentioned that I don't like being alone? I tidied up for a minute, checked my email, spell-checked the business plan and printed a dozen fresh copies for the presentations tomorrow. Still no Spazz or Tulip. And, to make things worse, they'd taken along our prototype Mophones. I didn't want to think about what that might mean. It had to be they'd just gone off for sex. I could have phoned Tulip of course, but I didn't feel like it. I didn't want to be a hungry little dog trotting after her for scraps.
I started up PowerPoint and converted our business plan into a series of slides. I even used my scanner to make slides out of the UMI, diagrams that Spazz and Tulip. had left lying around the kitchen. And for a good measure, I lay one of the antenna crystals on the scanner and made a slide out of it too. It was nearly midnight and Tulip still hadn't come home.
By now it was pretty clear what had happened. Spazz had taken her back to his place. I went to bed. The exhilaration of the grolly was gone and I felt depressed. Nobody loved me. If Spazz was Jena's hacksaw blade, I was her jailer. That was my thanks for all those years of trying to make Jena happy. And Tulip—last night she'd broken down in tears at the thought of spending the night under the same roof as me! And now she'd gone back to that sleazy jerk Spazz. Why was I letting Spazz in on the Mophone anyway? It was Tulip who'd gotten the antenna crystals to work. Et cetera, et cetera.
When I woke in the morning the house was still empty. I went over the PowerPoint slides, tweaking them and adding annotations. Jena phoned around nine A.M.
“Well?” she said.
“They're not here yet,” I said. “And they have the Mophones.”
“Oh God,” wailed Jena. “Our first meeting is at eleven. Ken Wong.”
“Come over and help me get ready,” I said.
“I'm not coming if the others aren't there,” said Jena. “This is totally going down the tubes. Why did I let you talk me into resigning from MetaTool?”
“Phone Spazz,” I told Jena.
“I don't want to phone him,” she said, her voice rising. “Why don't you phone that nasty Tulip?”
“I don't want to phone either,” I said. “It would feel lame. But, you know, I think I'd feel okay with going over there in person.”
“To Spazz's house? You know where it is?”
“Not exactly. Do you?”
“Yeah, Sunday afternoon he got me to drive my car there to get some of his things.”
“Will you drive there with me right now?” I asked.
“No way, Joe. But I can give you directions. It's not far.” She went on to tell me how to find Spazz.
“Promise you'll be here at eleven no matter what,” I said when she was done.
“I'm not promising
anything
,” said Jena, her voice going shrill. “Call me back after you see Spazz.”
I jumped in my car and headed down Route 17 and up Black Road into the mountains. In twenty minutes I was parked outside a mossy shack under some huge redwoods. Spazz's red motorcycle was chained up in front. Rather than rushing right in, I used my third eye to peer through the walls of the house. There was the
kitchen, with pot plants growing on the counter by the rear window. Spazz and Tulip were drinking coffee, Spazz in long underwear and a sweatshirt, Tulip looking comfortable in a robe. Spazz was on his cell phone. I wondered who he was talking to. It occurred to me that if I went out into hyperspace I could stick my ear into the corner of his room and hear what was going on.
One of the Empress's soldiers was vout there on the Klupper side of the All, so it wouldn't do to go into hyperspace on that side. I decided to chance another trip through Dronia. I peeled myself vinnward, briefly rolled over to make sure none of those anemone things were reaching out from the cliffs, and then turned back the right way, with my third eye staring down at Spaceland. I flapped over to Spazz's cabin. I leaned voutward to press my ear into Spaceland, under the kitchen table where nobody would notice it.
“ … weird ego trip,” Spazz was saying. “No, I don't think so either, Ken. Joe Cube isn't anyone's idea of a CEO. Like you said yesterday.” He gave a coughing laugh as Ken added something. “Yeah, or maybe a McDonald's franchise. He eats there all the time. No no, Joe's not the man to put together the kind of massive score we're looking at.” He paused, listening. “That's what I said, Ken. Unlimited spectrum, with no FCC licenses needed. Low power and an unbelievable signal-to-noise ratio. That's right. Tulip and I just finished prototyping it yesterday.” Another pause. “Well, sure, you might as well show up for today's meeting anyway. It's at eleven o'clock? Joe and his wife will have some dippy little slides. Tomorrow morning, you and Tulip. and me can get together and have the real meeting.” Another pause. “Oh, that's not a problem. I'll just file a competing patent application. Joe's isn't fully executed yet. Anyhow, it's Tulip and I who have the working prototypes. Joe's not going to be able to do jack about it. It's not like the dude's gonna build the thing himself. Yeah. Totally. It's kind of sad. But, hey, I've got a good feeling about Kencom. Thanks. Later.”
BOOK: Spaceland
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