Trading Reality (21 page)

‘How do you keep in touch with all these people?’

‘E-mail. Here, I’ll show you.’ She turned to her computer, and flashed up a screen full of messages. ‘Everyone communicates this way now. It works well, especially when you’re working on a computing problem. You can send computer files to each other as well as text messages. The guys out there will often communicate with one another using e-mail, rather than speech, even though they’re in the same room. That way they don’t interrupt each other’s train of thought.’

I looked at the group of programmers outside Rachel’s office, tapping away and thinking. Very odd.

‘Is Walter on the system?’

‘Oh yes. It’s often the only way of getting hold of him. I’ll get someone to put you on tomorrow, once you can get into Richard’s office.’

‘Thanks.’ I scanned the messages on Rachel’s screen. There was one which began ‘What the hell is going . . .’

I asked Rachel to call it up. She did so, reluctantly. It was a message from Matt Gregory of Chips with Everything. It had that day’s date at the top.

‘What the hell is going on with you guys?’ it read. ‘Now Richard’s gone, who do I talk to? Not that arsehole Baker, in case you were wondering. Are you for sale? Are you still making VR machines? What gives?’

Rachel was watching me closely. I laughed. ‘Not shy of saying what he thinks, is he?’

‘None of these people are.’

‘Maybe I should talk to him,’ I said. ‘On second thoughts, maybe I should talk to all of them.’

‘Yeah,’ said Rachel. ‘It can’t hurt.’

So I put together a message that was upbeat but credible. I emphasised that things wouldn’t change, and that Rachel would still be around at all times to help anyone out. I said I was proud of my brother’s company, and I would do everything I could for it. I knew it was a cynical audience, but I hoped I had pitched it right. Rachel seemed pleased with it, so we sent it out over the network. It was exciting to feel myself in the middle of this community striving towards a common goal. Richard’s goal.

‘You said all we need is for VR prices to fall. When will that happen?’ I asked.

Rachel looked away, avoiding my eyes. ‘Och, I don’t know. A year. Two years.’

I wondered why her answer was evasive. Perhaps she was embarrassed that despite all Richard’s promises, there was still a long way to go. But I thought there was more to it than that. ‘What are the obstacles?’ I asked.

‘There are several,’ she said. ‘The first is raw computing power. Any virtual reality system uses up a lot of processing power. At the moment we use Silicon Graphics workstations to run our fancier systems. For a mass market, we need to develop a system that will work well on a standard personal computer. To do that we have to work out a very efficient way of doing all the calculations involved. FairSim 1 helps, but we need something more.’

‘Like FairRender, the new graphics chip?’

Rachel smiled. ‘Quite right. Many of the calculations can be done directly on to the graphics chip, freeing up the PC’s CPU.’

‘CPU?’

‘Central Processing Unit. The chip that usually does all the calculations in the PC. Yes, with FairRender, and FairSim 2, we will be able to speed things up enough to create convincing VR experiences on a standard PC.’

‘OK, so we’re nearly there. What’s the delay?’

‘Once you have the technology, you then have to mass-produce it and market it. Chips can be very cheap, but only if you make them in vast quantities. Hundreds of thousands rather than a few hundred. Now, it’s a big risk for anyone to tool up a factory to make that many chips when there is no market yet. But until that happens, the prices of the chips will remain high because of the low production run. The same applies to other parts of the system, the headsets and so on. And with high prices, you can’t increase demand.’

I thought about what Rachel was saying. ‘So, how do we get the market going?’

‘I suppose that’s for you and David to work out.’ I wasn’t happy with her answer. There was something she wasn’t telling me.

It was mid-afternoon by the time I made it to see David Baker. He was in Richard’s office. All Richard’s personal effects – photographs, papers and so on – were in two cardboard boxes. David was busy loading his stuff into two large crates, probably the same ones he had unpacked the day before. With Richard’s photographs taken down, and the window switched off, the office looked bare indeed.

‘I saw the message you put out on e-mail,’ David said. ‘I thought it caught just the right tone.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But it might have been a good idea to have talked to me about it first. As you know, customers are my responsibility,’ he smiled as he said this.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It mostly went to Rachel’s contacts. People we’re collaborating with on projects, rather than actual customers. I didn’t think of asking you.’

‘I think it’s better if I’m involved in all external communications,’ said David. ‘It’s important for the company to have a consistent image with the outside world. I’ve done a lot of work on improving other people’s perception of us in the VR community, and I’d like to do what I can to build on that. Richard was very supportive of the initiative.’ He was still smiling, his voice reasonable.

Although I had avoided corporate politics at Harrison Brothers, I had watched it in action. Many investment bankers are motivated as much by power as by greed. They are also aggressive. I had often thought that it was a good thing that the Harrison Brothers junta found themselves in an investment bank rather than a third-world dictatorship; at least the knives in the back were all metaphorical.

I knew what David was doing. He wanted to slide me gently into what he considered to be my proper place – I was the temporary figurehead, and he was the man who was really going to run the show.

Except that wasn’t the way it was going to be.

There was no point in being subtle. This man had been trained at IBM and Harvard Business School. He knew all the political games anyway.

‘I know you wanted to be managing director, David. But it didn’t happen. I have that role, at least for a few months. So I make the ground rules.’

‘Oh yes? And what are they?’ There was just a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

I softened my tone. ‘You and I need each other, David. I need you, because you’re the only commercially adept person in this company. Walter Sorenson thinks a lot of your abilities. I don’t want to lose you, especially now.’

‘Well, that’s nice to know.’ The sarcasm was still there.

‘You need me, because my father and I control almost half the company. I’m only going to be here for three months, and when I’m gone, the field will be wide open for you.’ I stopped short of promising him the position of managing director after I had gone. I needed to find out a lot more about David Baker before I did that. ‘So, all you have to do is be patient, and help me. I’ll be happy to listen to all the helpful advice that you can give me. I’m sure I’ll end up taking most of it. But
I’ll
take the necessary decisions. This company is my responsibility, and believe me, I’m going to do my best with it. It’s in your interests as well as mine to make sure it survives. And then prospers. So, will you help me?’

David had listened in silence, his fingers propping up his chin. When I had finished, he waited, considering his choice of words.

At last he spoke. ‘Have you ever run a company before?’

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Have you ever sold a computer? Or any industrial goods?’

‘No.’

‘Have you ever drawn up budgets, sales forecasts, production schedules?’

‘No.’

‘How many people have you managed?’

‘Look, David,’ I said impatiently. ‘We both know I have no experience. But I pick up things quickly. I work hard. I have common sense. And I have good people around me who understand these things. One of whom is you.’

He paused again, weighing me up. He was trying to embarrass me, but I was determined he wasn’t going to succeed. ‘OK. I’ll help you,’ he said at last. ‘But you have to understand that the VR business is a very difficult one. It’s not for amateurs. I have a lot of personal capital invested in this company, and I don’t want to see it all blown away. I know how to steer this business through the next few months, so you had better listen to what I have to say.’

‘I’ll listen, David. But, remember, I take the decisions.’ We stared at each other. This was not going to be easy. ‘Right, then. Tell me about our customers.’

David ran through everything professionally. And it was a professional operation, especially for a small firm like FairSystems. There were some big-name customers: the US military, NASA, DEC, Framatome, Deutsche Telekom, Sears Roebuck, the RAF, the Metropolitan Police, and a scattering of large corporations around the world. But, as Sorenson had pointed out at the board meeting, they only bought a handful of systems each. None seemed about to put in the orders for hundreds of machines that would make FairSystems really take off.

I mentioned this to David.

‘You’re right. That’s the next big challenge. But we have laid a good foundation. I think it’s an outstanding achievement for a young company like ours to have put together a customer list like this. Especially with only six salesmen. Once we have the product at a sensible price, we’ll sell thousands. You’ve got to get Rachel and her boys to come up with something that costs less than twenty-five thousand dollars, and then see what we can do.’

It was true, he had done a good job.

‘But even with the product at current prices, I’m sure we’ll see strong sales growth,’ David continued. ‘For example, I’m putting together a deal with Onada Industries that should earn us big royalties over the next few years.’

‘Who are they?’ I asked.

‘They’re a Japanese electronics company that’s just getting into entertainment. They have their eye on catching up with Sega and Nintendo. Now, entertainment is an area in which we’re very weak. We developed a system with Virtual America, but that’s it. There are only a couple of dozen of our systems out there. A company called Virtuality in Leicester have a stranglehold on the world market at the moment. This is our chance to break it.

‘So, I’m negotiating a deal where we work with Onada to help them develop a virtual reality entertainment system of their own that will wipe the floor with Virtuality and Sega.’

‘Great,’ I said. ‘Sounds like a good opportunity. Well done.’

‘I hope I can close the deal soon. They’ll be here next week to discuss it.’ Once David said this, I could see he regretted it.

‘Oh good. I look forward to meeting them.’

‘Oh, I don’t think you need bother.’

‘If Onada are about to become our biggest customer, I want to meet them. And I’d like to see documents on the negotiations so far.’

David sat back in his chair.

‘You know Richard would have wanted to be involved,’ I said. ‘All I want to do is follow what’s going on. I won’t interfere.’

David wasn’t happy, but he gave in. ‘OK. The meeting is at nine next Monday.’

‘Good.’ I stood up to go. David stopped me.

‘Oh, Mark?’

‘Yes.’

David forced a smile. ‘I was meaning to ask you. Would you like to come round to dinner on Saturday night? I’m inviting Rachel, and Willie too. I hope you can make it.’

I, too, forced a smile. ‘Thank you,’ I said, seeing my weekend in London with Karen disappearing. I couldn’t refuse David’s hospitality, even though I suspected it was politically motivated. I really had to go. ‘I’d be delighted to come.’

It was six thirty, and I was tired. But there was one more thing I wanted to do before I went home. I went back upstairs to Software. Everyone was still there. Rachel was talking to Andy, the man-boy I had seen coming out of the Project Platform room. He saw me and hurried off. He had developed dark bags under his eyes, his hair was tousled, and his shirt-tail was hanging out. His mother would not have been pleased.

‘Rachel?’

‘Yes?’ She looked straight at me, defying me to ask some more about Project Platform.

That could wait.

‘I want to learn as much as I can about programming and virtual reality,’ I said.

‘Oh yes?’ said Rachel, trying not to smile. It was a difficult thing to ask. But I knew that there were many managers in the computer business, David amongst them, who knew very little about how computers worked and were programmed. I was determined not to be one of them, even if I risked some humiliation at the start.

She looked round the room. ‘These people have spent years on software design. It’s not something you can pick up over a wet weekend.’

‘I know that,’ I said. ‘But there must be some books I could read. Something that would tell me how you go about writing a program. How you organise the programmers, what’s possible, what’s impossible, that sort of thing. And anything you have on the background to virtual reality would be very interesting.’

Rachel looked at me sceptically. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes. It’s important.’

She thought for a moment. She pulled out a couple of books from her bookshelf:
The Art of Computer Programming
by Knuth, and
Virtual Reality Now
by Larry Stevens. ‘Start on these. When you’ve read them, we’ll talk.’

It was strange. Since the age of fourteen, if not before, I had steadfastly refused to show any interest in mathematics or computing. That was for ‘computer freaks’, nerds like my father and brother. Sure, I had learned how to draw up spread-sheets, but that was only because it was an essential tool for trading the markets. But that evening I found reading the books Rachel had given me stimulated parts of my brain I didn’t even know I had. I resolved to borrow some software and a computer from Rachel to try out programming for real.

David was true to his word, and I was able to move into Richard’s office the next morning. I put his photographs of the prototype VR machines back on the wall, and worked out how to switch on the electronic window. It showed the view of the Firth of Forth from Kirkhaven. The Isle of May, with its two lighthouses, was clearly visible to the east. The sea moved gently, and small fishing boats chugged in and out of the harbour. Over the course of the morning, I saw the sun move across the sea, from left to right. I liked it, and decided to keep it.