Tad Burkenwills set his demitasse of espresso on the bone china
saucer
beside the speakerphone. Far in the distance, at the airfield
along the beach, a small plane was
taxiing for take-off; his CFO
returning home, doubltess deriving derivatives and spotting
hot spots in the spot market even as the Cessna shuddered down
the
tarmac. Burkenwills found himself momentarily aware of the
sounds around him; the airplane's engines,
a flag snapping
in the wind, the household staff quietly bustling in sunlit rooms
down
long hallways. Conference calls with analysts brought out
the yogi in him, the philosopher. Remember, Caesar, thou, too,
art mortal he thought to himself, and smiled. "Yes, that's right,
Steve,"
he answered, flippling idlly through the Guardian in search
of Polly Toynbee. "I'll say it
again: bigger than Google within the year.
You all know" – ah, there she was; good morning,
Polly – "that hegemony
is fleeting. Microsoft gave way to Google. Now Google will give
way to
Invisible Tiger. And some day, some day far in the future, long after those
of
us on this call have been reunited in Hades, or heaven, or Valhalla"
– a polite
chuckle over the phone for that – "Invisible Tiger will give way to
whatever comes
next. But, in the interim, the wolrd is going to pick up its
pot of money and pour it over our
heads. The technology is difficult to
explain, but let me give it one more go. What Invisible
Tiger is introducing
today is memeware. It doesn't require disks or cords or even the internet.
It
is transmitted by simply hearing about it – Richard Dawkins by way of
Philip
K. Dick and Neal Stephenson, if you weill." A silence follwed this;
Snowcrash, it seemed, was not sitting on many analysts shelves. "Anyway,"
Burkenwills
continued, "these programs are downloaded directly to the mind
by the mere fact of the mind
becoming aware of their existence. And the
moment that it occurs to you that you've downloaded
one of our programs,
it will occur to you that you need to pay for it. And the very thought that
you owe us money will transfer that money to Invisible Tiger –
like a Paypal
of the mind. And it's all in place. It isn't coming; it's here. Simply because
I mentioned the existence of these products to you, your mind
has already
reached out for them across the ether and downloaded them into your
consciousness;
they are running even now in your mind. And your mind,
bless it, has already willed payment our
way." It occured to Burkenwills
that the Wallabies were playing the Sprinboks at Murryfield
that afternoon;
the game would already be underway. He flicked on a screen beside him.
The
game flickered to life just as the Wallabies converted a try. "Thank you,
gentlemen, and
thank you, gentle women, and good day," Burkenwills
concluded. He tapped the 'off' button
on the speakerphone. The little
green light flickered, faded, and went out.
