A Night To Remember
Twenty minutes later he was shaking his head in amazement. Nate had rearranged his files so that Andrew could have instant access to anything on the hard drive with only a touch or two on the keyboard. He’d even simplified access to the computers at DataProx, and to the complex, often confusing Internet.
“This is my own net-search design,” Nate announced without modesty. “Helluva lot easier than anything available commercially now.”
“Why haven’t you marketed this?” Andrew demanded.
Nate shrugged the mustard-stained shoulder. “Takes money. I don’t have any.”
“And you haven’t been able to get anyone to look at it?” Andrew couldn’t believe this talent hadn’t already been snapped up by the perpetually hungry computer industry.
“I haven’t tried much,” Nate admitted. “I’m not into the introduction-and-interview thing, you know? I’ve sold a few game programs during the past couple of years, and have hired out a couple of times for customized programming, but I don’t really have time for all the games corporates like to play.”
Andrew was hardly surprised by that announcement.
“What I’m really interested in,” Nate went on, “is global communication. I’m working on an E-mail program that includes an instant language translator, among other new features. You type your message in English and multiple recipients read it in whatever languages you designate with no more delay than a normal E-mail transmission. It’s got a few bugs—most of them concerning slang and dialect—but nothing I couldn’t solve with time and money. That money thing is the kicker. Corporations tend to be pretty tight with it, you know? They think they’ve got to have guarantees to account for every penny. I can’t seem to convince them that genius doesn’t work on deadline.”
. “When genius doesn’t work on deadline, genius gets left in the dust,” Andrew returned promptly. “What good’s a brilliant discovery if someone else has already made it?”
“Technology’s not a game,” Nate complained. “Everyone benefits from the advances, not just the ones who stumble onto them first.”
“It’s not a game. It’s a race. And the ones who stumble onto the improvements first are the ones who receive the funding to pursue the next goal. Competition may not be the noblest of incentives, but you can’t deny that it has played a healthy part in the development of modern technology.”
“I won’t wear a tie,” Nate warned.
Andrew followed the non sequitur easily enough. “If you work for me, you won’t be expected to.”
“I don’t punch a time clock.”
“No. But you’ll be expected to give approximate time estimates—and to live up to them.”
Nate rubbed his chin. “You’ll pay me?”
Andrew’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. I’ll pay you. I want the rights to market your net-search software, and an option on any future designs.”
“You don’t seem to know much about computers,” Nate said skeptic
ally, glancing at Andrew’s equipment.
“I leave that to the hackers on my payroll. What I do know is how to make money with their genius. And I believe in dividing it fairly.”
“Good enough.” Nate pushed himself away from Andrew’s desk and stood. “I’ve gotta go. Things to do.”
“I’ll need your signature on some paperwork.”
“Get it ready. Tell Nicky when and where you want me to sign. I’ll be there,” Nate said as he headed toward the door.
Andrew had worked with other eccentric geniuses, but he didn’t think there’d been another one quite like this guy. He realized they hadn’t even introduced themselves. “I suppose you know I’m Andrew Tyler.”
“Nate Holiday,” the younger man muttered over his shoulder. “Nice to meetcha.”
He paused in the doorway and looked back with a frown, as though he felt there was something else he should say.
Prepared for an awkward thank-you, Andrew was caught off guard when Nate said instead, “You’re sleeping with Nicky?”
“Er, yes. I am.”
Nate nodded shortly. “Last guy was a jerk. You treat her right.”
Andrew decided that the family resemblance between Nate and eccentric, Great-uncle Timbo was a strong one. “I will,” he said.