He eased back on the gas and slowed to fifty, catching an occasional glimpse of the mist-covered Anacostia River through the trees. To anyone else, that image, the empty road, and the cool air flowing through the window would have been calming. For him, though, it was a drive that usually led to getting shot, stabbed, or thrown off something disconcertingly tall.
He flipped on the radio and used a worn knob to move through the stations. The news was typically depressing and he scanned past it, settling on a morning DJ until the show devolved into something about a juggling stripper. A few more turns took him to NPR and he was surprised to hear a familiar voice emanating from the static-ridden speakers.
“I’m telling you that it’s going to be completely transformational. Normally I don’t like to make predictions but there you go.”
It was his new friend from Vegas. Janine Redford.
“So when you say transformational,” the interviewer said, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “Are we talking automobile transformational or just iPod transformational.”
“We’re talking about fire and agriculture transformational.”
The interviewer let out a more energetic laugh than was normal for public radio. “When you decide to predict, you really go all-in, don’t you, Janine? The Merge just came out. How much time could you possibly have on it?”
In fact, it had been available for just over twenty-six hours. Stores had popped into existence in the world’s major cities the week after Dresner’s presentation—assembled virtually overnight in spaces rented months before under oppressive secrecy. Smith had driven by the glass-and-neon Merge shop in DC the day before with the idea of stopping in, but the plan had turned out to be a bit naive. The line of potential customers was already wrapped around the block when he got there.
“I got it at a tech industry preview yesterday and have been using it pretty much constantly since then. In fact, I’m using it now.”
“You’re using it right now?” There was a moment of dead air. “For all of you listening, let me just say that Janine is not wearing a headset.”
Smith grinned and turned onto an inconspicuous road that wound down toward the river. It seemed that it hadn’t taken Janine long to overcome her youthful cynicism.
“I have to admit that I was resistant at first and I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little peer pressure involved, but I’m an early adopter at heart.”
“And I have to admit that they’re totally invisible. I can’t see them at all.”
“The studs? Honestly, the whole thing is kind of a non-event. They clamp your head into this machine, put some headphones on you so you can’t hear the drill, and then it’s over.”
“No anesthesia?”
“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a couple of cocktails first, but you don’t need anything more than that. The whole thing’s over in less than three seconds—too fast for you to feel it when it’s actually happening. A few hours later it starts to ache a bit but the thing’s so amazing, I keep forgetting to take my ibuprofen.”