Terminal Value (5 page)

Dylan leaned forward and studied the chart. Would they really be able to add that much revenue that quickly? He made a silent note to himself to check these figures with Rich. Quickly, the chart dissolved, and the spinning logo returned.

The animated chart flipped over, revealing a NASDAQ listing of companies on the other side. Mantric was on it, with the trading symbol MNTR, and rose off the page into large type. “You know, I'm not a greedy man,” Art said, “but I think by the time we go public we'll be the hottest offering in our sector.” The listing turned into a stock chart, with a starburst signifying an initial offering price of ten dollars a share, then rising up to twenty dollars, then forty dollars, and then it burst through the roof of the chart again. “And within three or four months, based on comparable valuations we've looked at, I expect our stock will be trading at about sixty dollars.” Everyone applauded again.

“We are now officially in our quiet period. No one, and I mean no one, is to discuss our stock offering or our firm's performance with any outsider. Not to a reporter, not to an analyst, not to an investor, not to your mother. If that happens, the SEC will prohibit us from going public. I want to remind all of you that we must concentrate on our clients and our projects. I know this is an exciting time for us, but the worst thing we can do right now is take our eye off the ball.

“So the next step is to prepare for the road show, which will be the last ten days of April. The management team will be visiting investors in London, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Dallas, Boston, and New York.”

Dylan smiled at the mention of the road show. As the head of the mobile division, he would play an important role in Mantric's show as perhaps the world's most renowned expert on the future of mobile computing technologies. He had already started working on his presentation.

As Art began a discussion of the history of the company, Dylan felt a light buzz against his chest. He retrieved his cell phone and flipped it open to see Tony's signature response on the screen. A short text message darted across the screen, reading: “something odd, need 2 talk 2U.” Then the message ended. Dylan's mind raced through what could be important enough for Tony to send such a cryptic message during this event. He snapped the phone shut and returned his attention to the meeting.

“This is only the beginning. Everyone knows the future lies in constantly developing and capitalizing on emerging technologies to achieve enormous competitive advantage—”

Art's voice droned on and on in the distance, while Dylan's mind returned to Tony's mysterious message. Dylan tucked the message into the back of his mind as Art completed the virtual meeting. Dylan pushed away from the desk and slid out of the chair. He wanted to talk to Rich about the numbers Art had rattled off, and then he had to find Tony.

“Good meeting, Art,” he said and rose.

Art did not respond but wafted a casual wave through the air as he walked toward Ivan. Dylan watched as Ivan held out his cell phone toward Art. Art looked at the face of the phone, then looked back at Ivan, and just raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips as if contemplating some deep thought. Simultaneously he and Ivan slowly raised their eyes toward Dylan. Art smiled and waved again.

* * *

March 5, 2:00 p.m. Boston

The meeting ended at 11:15 that morning, and Dylan grabbed a cab to the airport. He'd called Tony but, as always, got his voice-mail. Dylan was anxious to get back to Boston and pursue his questions with both Tony and Rich. The twelve-thirty p.m. shuttle touched down just sixty minutes later, and by two o'clock, Dylan had settled in at his desk and dialed Rich's extension through the computer keypad. The screen opened, and Dylan saw Rich with his right side turned to the screen, his attention drawn to another computer on the credenza at the side of his desk. Dylan chuckled at Rich's ability to multitask with such focus.

Rich turned and smiled when he saw Dylan. “Oh, hi, Dylan. Meeting over? I only caught part of it.”

“Yeah. Listen, Rich. Just a quick question. Did you hear Art's announcement about the revenue levels once Mantric goes public? Now, I'm not a financial wizard like you are, but did the numbers he announced sound solid to you?”

Rich waited for a few seconds before answering. “Well, I thought that part of the speech, which by the way I found terribly boring, was a wee bit of a stretch, but that's what Art does well, isn't it?”

Dylan chuckled. Only a number cruncher would find the meeting boring. “Yes,” he said. “It is his strong point.”

“Why do you ask?” Rich asked.

“Well, like you said, I thought that was a bit of stretch as well. Could you just do a cursory glance at the numbers?”

Rich leaned in toward the webcam. “You think there is something fishy about the numbers?”

“Good Lord, no!” Dylan responded quickly. “I just wanted to be sure, and you're the person I trust to do that research best.”

Rich sat back. “Oh! Okay. I'll check into it and let you know what I find out, but I think he was just doing a little exaggerating to jazz the meeting—not that it worked for me.” He mumbled the last comments half to himself, half to Dylan.

Dylan chuckled. “I'm just curious, but don't put a priority on it—just when you have a few minutes.”

“Yeah, like
that
will happen anytime soon.” Rich responded. “But I'll check the numbers for you.”

They both clicked off the call at the same time. Dylan wasn't sure if he would understand the numbers, or what he was going to do with that information, especially if the numbers were exaggerated. He just had a nagging itch he couldn't scratch, and he needed to satisfy his curiosity. His fingers returned to the keyboard, and he deftly dialed Tony's number, which rolled into voice-mail again.

“Tony, don't you ever answer your phone? You sent me an odd little message. Want to talk about it? Call me.”

“Dylan.” The soft voice filled the quiet room. Dylan turned to see Heather standing in the doorway.

“Hi!”

Heather walked into the room and sat on the sofa. Dylan couldn't help but admire her slender legs as she crossed them. She looked out the window, then back toward Dylan. She noticed him looking at her legs, and her green eyes bored into his. “So,” she said with a sly grin. “How do you think the meeting went?”

Dylan turned beet-red. “I think there may have been some exaggerations, although minor, but they were probably made to ‘jazz' the audience.” He could not believe he had just stolen a comment from Rich.

Heather laughed. “Yeah, I'd agree.” She leaned forward and licked her lips. “But it is exciting, isn't it?”

A noise from the doorway caught their attention, and they both turned to see Rob standing at the door.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked in a peevish tone.

“Not at all,” Heather interjected.

Dylan sensed a lowering of the emotional temperature in the room and wondered if it was reality or just wishful thinking on his part. Rob entered and threw himself into the chair across from Dylan. “We were just discussing the meeting,” Dylan said.

“Yeah, I'll bet that was the most boring meeting you've ever attended.” Rob did not address either person directly.

“Yeah, well, maybe for you, but not for the new people who haven't been in on this thing from the very beginning. Others might find it a bit more interesting.” Heather responded. The chill deepened.

“Whoa,” he answered, throwing his hands up. “I didn't mean anything by it!”

Dylan watched their reactions with interest. “Well, anyway,” he said in a vain attempt to warm the room. “We should be preparing for the offering and making sure we have everything in place that we need to handle on our end. We also need to make sure Hyperfōn is brought online without a hitch.”

“Hey!”

All three turned at the sound of the nasal voice at the doorway. Dylan asked, with the sort of exasperation one friend displays to another, “Don't you return your calls anymore?”

“Did I ever?” asked Tony, grinning. He stepped into the room and looked at Heather and Rob.

Heather rose first and walked to the doorway, then turned. “Looks like you guys have something to talk about, and I have work to do. Ciao!”

“Hey, wait a minute! How about lunch?” Rob jumped up and dashed out the door after Heather, who had disappeared down the hallway.

Dylan remained quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “So—what was that mysterious message you sent me while I was in the meeting? You said there was something odd going on and you wanted to talk about it.”

Tony stared out the window, then moved his chair closer to Dylan. He looked around to be sure no one else was there to hear him. “Listen, I don't usually pat myself on the back, but I'm pretty confident I know what I'm doing when it comes to technology.”

Dylan raised his eyebrows high on his forehead and gave his friend a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I think I could agree with you on both those things!”

Tony glanced around again. “When the newest technology comes out, I'm always on top of it. I like to think my knowledge gives me an edge. Like, I'm virtually always around, even if you don't know it. I'm a teeny tiny software script in your electronic life.” He pointed to Dylan's pocket where he kept his cell phone. “I see you, but you don't see me. But, when you need me, voilà! I magically appear.”

The smile left Dylan's face, replaced with a frown. “I'm not following you, Tony.”

Tony lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. “I'm beginning to sense I'm not the only one with a tiny software script in our collective electronic lives.”

Dylan looked from Tony to his own pocket and back to Tony. “I'm still not sure I get you. Are you saying—?”

Tony grabbed his friend's wrist, pointed to the computer, and shook his head without further comment.

Dylan nodded and the conversation stopped. Tony left the room, and Dylan knew better than to push Tony for any explanation of his comments. Tony would give him the information when the time was right, and Dylan would just have to wait. He sat back and thought back to the meeting that morning and how it ended.

Chapter 6

April 5, 7:45 p.m. Boston

The moment the acquisition closed, the various MobiCelus projects had transferred to Mantric at a breakneck pace. Dylan and his team were able to keep up. Tony and Matt continued their work on Hyperfōn and kept Joe Ferrano happy. Dylan looked at his watch as he walked into Tony's office. “You want to get something to drink?” he asked.

“Sure. What the hell.” Tony put his work away. “How about that new place, Tamo? They have excellent sashimi!”

He and Tony were the last people in the building to leave as they stepped into the old elevator that grumbled and creaked as it slowly descended to the street. They hopped into Dylan's car for the short drive to the restaurant. They ordered beers, and then Dylan said, “So tell me. What's it like working with Sandeep instead of having complete autonomy?”

“Dylan, we've talked about this before, and, really, I'm good with the situation as it is. He leaves me to my own devices. I actually think he's avoiding me most of the time. Just asks me some short questions, then I don't hear from him for another week. He doesn't include me in a lot of meetings, but I am so okay with that! I'm knee-deep with Hyperfōn, and I'm involved with a new invention I've been working on and don't need the distractions that come with being the boss. Hey, don't worry, man!”

“The virtual keyboard?” Dylan asked, scanning the menu.

Tony took a long swig from his beer. “What? That is so passé. I'm working on something so revolutionary, if I can pull it off, it'll blow your mind.”

“You want to give me a hint?”

“Nope, not just yet. Still too early. But remember I was telling you about when I was in Jersey catching up with an old friend—Brandon? He's the one who was fired from Microsoft for inventing, from scratch, an operating system that runs on anything, takes up next to no space, diagnoses and fixes itself, and even allows constant upgrades so you wouldn't have to buy a new version every couple of years.”

Dylan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What? You're kidding—right?”

“I know, it sounds crazy. Freakin' Microsoft!”

“Sounds too good to be true. What happened?”

“They hated it, of course. It would totally ruin the way they made money. So they gave him the golden handshake, but with a gun to his head. Okay, not literally. Bought him out, then booted him out the door. He can't do anything with his invention because Microsoft says they own it.”

“Well, technically—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So he tried to get a job at Apple, but, whaddaya know, they wouldn't talk to him either. No one would. He'd played with fire once too often. He turned bitter and tried to get even by posting a modified operating system on the web for free, like Linux. Microsoft sicced the Feds on him for copyright violation. Then he turned kinda crazy. I wanted to see if he could help me out with something—”

Dylan loved Tony, but this was the kind of behavior that sometimes infuriated him. “Honestly, Tony, as your best friend, I'm telling you, I think it's time you grew up a bit. We're in the big show now. If Art found out—”

“Oh, man! You're not going all tight-ass on me, are you? Don't worry about Art.” Tony set down his beer and changed the subject, his way of avoiding conflict. “Seriously Dylan, I know you think I'm crazy, but I'm working on two really cool things. The first is an amazing smartphone. Imagine you set it on a desk, and, at the push of a button, it becomes a virtual notebook PC. On the desk it projects a full working keyboard, and on the wall it projects a 3-D image. And it runs as fast as a jaguar. I'm telling you, it'll be huge!”