--Matthew

He tapped the Send b.u.t.ton, and a flashing message appeared indicating that the e-mail was being transmitted.

Just then, his office door opened and he spun in his seat. It was Laurence Maupin.

"h.e.l.lo, Matthew. How are you holding up?"

Matthew leaned back in his seat, blocking the computer screen with his upper body. "I think I'm still in shock," he said wearily, wiping his sleeve across his brow.

"Your statement's out to the press," she said, giving the folder in her hand a little shake. She looked at him with a genuinely concerned expression. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

"I think I will," he said, and offered her a grateful smile. He turned and shut off the computer, noticing before the screen went black that his message had been successfully sent.

"Good. We can catch up later," she said, touching his arm lightly.

He gathered his notes and briefcase. Exiting the building, he felt euphoric yet depleted, as if he'd just run a marathon. And he had won. The race was finished, and he had emerged victorious.

His biggest obstacle had been overcome.

Unlocking his car door, he was struck by a sudden realization, and he let out a small laugh at the irony of his new position.

He'd really done it. He'd really made it. And farther than he had ever imagined. To think that soda and crackers were his business just a few short years ago. It was incredible. Indeed, although he would not become the chairman of the largest food company in the world, as he had once dreamed, today's accomplishment set him up for an even greater eventual success - chairman of the largest computer company in the world.

Chapter 5

Opening the front door of his home, Peter was suddenly a.s.saulted by a strange blaring voice and shouts of laughter. The cacophony grew louder and more vexing as he neared the computer lab.

Charging into the room he found Ivy sitting cross-legged on the floor and holding a joint to her lips. Her enraptured smile wavered when she registered Peter's expression.

Two other young people, both boys, were also in the room, both seemingly oblivious to Peter's arrival. One of the boys held a microphone with a thin cable that ran into a small black box, which was in turn attached to a Joey. The computer and a color monitor rested on a table in the center of the room, which was littered with beer cans, bottles, and junk food packages. On the monitor was a bright yellow smiley face, and as the boy spoke into the microphone the smiley face became animated and responded.

"Say cheese," the boy said.

"Say cheese," the smiley face replied, but with an unreal robotic tone rather than a natural human-sounding tone. Simultaneously, the words "Say cheese" appeared in a little balloon, like in a cartoon strip, beside the smiley face's mouth. Nicknamed "Myna Bird," the program, which Ivy had designed, was a crude demonstration of speech recognition and synthesis, which enabled the Joey to hear and speak plain English words. The microphone fed the sounds directly into the converter box and through the Joey, which interpreted them into actual text and spoken words, based on a library of words it had already learned.

"Goo goo," the boy said.

The smiley face did not reply.

"I said, 'goo goo,'" the boy said again, breaking into gales of laughter.

"I said," the smiley face said, unfamiliar with the rest of the sentence.

"I said 'goo' f.u.c.king 'goo'!" the boy shouted.

"I said...f.u.c.king," the smiley face said.

The boy chuckled a trippy chuckle and glanced at the others - and saw that none were laughing. He turned around and saw Peter.

Busted.

"What the f.u.c.k is going on?" Peter said loudly.

"What the f.u.c.k is going on?" the smiley face mimicked, deadpan, minus the fury.

The others guiltily bowed their heads, mindful of Peter's palpable anger - all except for Ivy who, turning to avoid looking at Peter directly, rubbed her nose to stifle a small giggle. In her attempt to contain her mirth, the situation worsened and her cheeks puffed and she burst out laughing.

Peter approached her with his hands on his hips.

"What's so f.u.c.king funny?"

The boy holding the microphone quickly switched it off, before the smiley face could say anymore.

"You are," Ivy said, bringing her knuckles to her face, sputtering out more giggles. "You are, love."

The boys chuckled nervously, like maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

At the sound of the sharp slap, all laughter ceased.

Peter stood there, eyes blazing at her, his hand still raised in the air.

With a vacant expression, Ivy absently brushed her cheek and tried to focus her vision on him.

"Get out," he said, turning to the others.

Ivy remained seated on the floor, stroking her face while the boys disconnected the equipment from the Joey and gathered their knapsacks.

"You can keep the beer, man," one of the boys said as he shouldered his pack. Then the pair was gone.

Alice padded softly into the room and began picking up the scattered litter. She stepped on an empty potato chip bag, which crackled noisily underfoot. Peter could see that it was an International Foods brand, one of Matthew's onetime goodies. Too bad he hadn't stayed in f.u.c.king soda pop. Any temporary remorse Peter felt for his behavior, for slapping Ivy, vanished, and his rage returned with greater force.

"Leave it, Alice. Ivy will clean up."

The housekeeper hesitated then returned the empty bottles to the table, her face flushed as she soundlessly exited the room.

Peter turned and faced Ivy from where he now stood, across the room.

"I'm sorry," she said, still sitting on the floor and now rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself. "We were working on my program, and I wanted to surprise you tonight with a new dialect module I put together - "

"You have to go."

" - and I wanted to demonstrate it when you walked in, so you would be happy."

"I said leave."

Tears were dropping from her chin and she remained seated on the floor in a trance-like state. His eyes settled on the Joey's silent glowing screen, the smiley face staring at him with its stupid knowing grin. His jaw quaked as he fought back his hurt, his longing to run to her and have her hold him, to apologize and tell her about everything that had happened. He was torn.