“So what’s going on, Fred?”

Klein stood from behind his far less elaborate desk and took Smith’s hand in a firm grip before indicating toward a chair across from him. In a way, he seemed frozen in time—the receding hairline had stabilized years ago and his eyes never lost their intensity behind wire-rimmed glasses. And while Smith couldn’t prove it, he was fairly certain the man was wearing the same suit as the first time they’d met.

“How was the presentation?”

“The what?”

“Las Vegas. The unveiling of the Merge.”

So there was the answer to the compelling question of how a purposely obscure army microbiologist had gotten an invitation to a function packed with tech industry billionaires and reporters. Between his relationship with the president and his history at the NSA and CIA, Klein could get just about anything done. He rarely exercised that ability, though, tending to err on the side of not risking exposure unless it was extremely important. Sending a man to graze on imported shrimp at the Las Vegas Convention Center didn’t seem to qualify.

“I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it,” Smith said.

“So you were impressed? The president wanted the opinion of someone he trusts.”

Smith assumed that he meant in regard to the military or intel-gathering potential of the technology, but wasn’t entirely sure.

“The claims he made seemed pretty far-fetched, to be honest. But based on the reaction so far, it looks like he’s hit a home run with the hardware and LayerCake has a lot of potential—both good and bad. Right now there are only a handful of apps but once independent developers get hold of it, functionality is going to explode.”

“So you haven’t tried it yourself?”

Smith shook his head. “I haven’t been able to get within a block and a half of the DC store. I thought the lines would die down but according to the news, people are starting to camp out overnight.”

“Ah, right. Because it’s going to save the world.”

“That might be an overstatement.”

Klein reached for a pipe, turning it over in his hands before lighting it. “I have to admit that I’m skeptical. It seems like a smartphone with a more convenient interface. That is, if you define ‘convenience’ as letting someone drill into your skull.”

Smith grinned. “You’re not really the demographic he’s going for, Fred. The truth is that people have been happily using the implants with his hearing system for years. And while I’m with you that it’s not going to save the world, the Merge—and maybe even more so LayerCake—is going to change it pretty deeply.”

“I’m a little old to need a nanny, Jon. And if I did, I’m not sure I’d pick Dresner.” The smoke rolled from Klein’s mouth before being whisked away by the sophisticated ventilation system. Maggie had no tolerance for secondhand smoke.

“There’s no doubt that there are a lot of issues that need to be worked out but there’s no way to ignore LayerCake’s potential. Think about those speed limit signs that tell you how fast you’re going. That kind of immediate feedback has been incredibly successful in changing people’s behavior. Now consider a hypothetical app that uses brain wave analysis to tell you when you’ve had too much to drink and puts a little icon in your peripheral vision. That’s a powerful piece of data. And then expand that—create an environment where you know that the things you do will bear immediately on the way people see you. That’d make you think twice about your behavior, wouldn’t it?”