The Babel Tower Page 10

  Annie wore a big grin that stretched the freckles of her nose and utterly disarmed him. “You’re not as smart as you think.”

  He shrugged. “None of us are.”

  “So… you really wanna know what I think?”

  “I’m not going to beg.”

  “Here’s the secret.” She stepped closer and spoke in a lower voice. “Liz Trammell is surrounded by people who want something from her. It’s like the pretty girls who date old guys for their money, but backwards.”

  “She has friends.”

  “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

  Jake wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t mad. His sister was probably right.

  “She didn’t have to come here by herself,” Annie said. “She’s a billionaire. She lifts her finger and people do whatever she wants. Come on, Jake, why would she want to see you?”

  “Because she wants me to sell my land.”

  Annie shook her head, without any fading of her freckled grin.

  “You think Liz came because she wanted to meet me?”

  “Duh. She’s intrigued by a man who says no to her.”

  Jake shook his head. “She’s a proud woman. Her lawyer failed, and she thinks she can’t. She came to knock me down.”

  “Yeah, apparently you’re both stubborn,” Annie mumbled. “But anyway,” she held her arms out wide, “opposites attract…”

  Jake ruffled his sister’s hair. “Maybe that’s why you and I get along so well.”

  Annie laughed. “Yes, but I’m not letting you off there. What will you think if Liz comes back again?”

  “I’ll let you know if it happens.” Jake didn’t know what else to say. Questions like Annie’s were the kind that filled his mind but never escaped his lips. Just thinking them made him feel like a hot summer day. It was foolish, though. No use speculating. Better to focus on what was in front of him. One day at a time.

  Once they reached the house, the smell of fried chicken drifting from the door, Jake glanced back at the horizon. It was midnight blue above, but a yellowish glow of light had started to pollute the view.

  His new neighbors were moving in.

  21

  Ken Thornburg invited only ten entrepreneurs to his monthly dinners. Much of the group stayed the same from month to month, a top-ten list of Silicon Valley VIPs. Even disruptive industries settled into hierarchy after time.

  Three of the regulars were social media titans. Others had revolutionized everyday industries: taxis, airports, hotels, and even laundromats brought into the digital era. Unlike the others, Ken had not started his own company. He’d inherited a fortune and used it well, funding start-up after start-up, hitting a few jackpots. One of those recent jackpots involved fire hydrants, which is why Jackson Wong had the honor of attending the past two dinners.

  Tonight’s dinner was even more important to Jax, because of his guest, the blonde beside him in the deep bucket seat of his fire red Ferrari. They wound their way up the hill overlooking the valley.

  Liz eyed the mansions lining the road. “So you think they’ll ask me about the tower.”

  “Definitely,” Jax said. “Ken finds the entrepreneurial mind fascinating. We won’t talk much about business. It’s more about life and stuff.”

  Liz didn’t answer.

  “But your tower has him really intrigued.” Jax turned off the road before a wrought-iron gated driveway. “Ken knows all about Babel, and he’s impressed with what you’re doing.”

  The car hardly stopped before the gates swung open. Liz studied the hedges lining the driveway. “Anyone with bushes this manicured has a complex.”

  “I never said Ken was normal.”

  Liz breathed out a faint laugh.

  “Be thinking about how you’ll explain Nebraska,” Jax said. “No one really buys what you said in the interview. Ken will be dying to know all the little details under the surface of what you told the public.”

  They pulled up to the front door. Jax gave the keys to a valet, and they walked through immense glass doors into the house. The inside was bare and beautiful, with concrete floors, white walls covered in Jackson-Pollock-like paintings, and a sweeping view over the valley.

  A man rushed up to them. Liz noticed he was barefoot.

  “Jax!” He pulled Jax into a friendly embrace. Then he turned to Liz. He looked barely older than she was. He wore jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. She had learned not to give much weight to first impressions, but he was exceeding her expectations.

  “Elizabeth Trammell,” he said, extending his hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Ken.”

  She shook his hand, cool and solid. “Call me Liz. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Of course, of course. I can’t wait to hear about what you’re up to.” He turned and motioned for them to follow.

  The wall to Liz’s left was nothing but glass. Instead of chairs and couches, the vast space had little sitting areas with mats and beanbags.

  Ken stopped before sheer, Japanese-style doors. “Shoes off, please. We want everyone to feel comfortable here. Anything you want, just tell me. Can I start you with a drink?”

  Jax asked for kombucha.

  “Vodka martini,” Liz said.

  Ken smiled and touched his watch a few times. He looked to Jax. “I’ve upgraded the house with Lawrence’s software. Just watch.”

  In moments a waist-high robot with shelves on its head rolled up. Two drinks sat there—a bottle of kombucha and, apparently, a vodka martini.

  “Go ahead,” Ken said, “try it.”

  Liz took the martini from the robot and sipped it.

  “Good, right?” Ken didn’t wait for a response. “Just wait till dinner. We’re having truffled sea bass. All my fish are caught by my fisherman, Marco, off Baja. Very sustainable, very delicious.”

  He led them through the doors to a very small room. The table was sunken into the floor, so that the floor formed a bench around it. Seven vaguely familiar guys sat around it. They stopped talking and eyed Jax and Liz as they entered. Their gazes stuck on Liz.

  “Surprise guest!” Ken announced. “You all know Jax, and I’ve invited Elizabeth Trammell to join us. Jax, do you want to introduce her, or shall I?”

  Jax smiled. “It’s all yours.”

  “As most of you know,” Ken began, “Liz and Jax founded Babel together. We’ve had Jax before as a coding guru, but I thought Liz would be a great addition tonight. Our focus is building the future, and no one is building something quite like Liz. You all know about her tower, right?”

  The group nodded. “Tallest tower in the world,” said one of them. He wore a black turtleneck and a mocking grin.

  “Exactly.” Ken stepped forward and motioned to two empty seats on opposite sides of the table. Jax headed to one, so Liz took the other.

  The group fell into pockets of small talk, and Liz introduced herself. The guy beside her seemed pretty normal, with curly brown hair and gentle eyes.

  “Sam Woolrich,” he said. “We met once before, at a conference on coding and diplomacy.”

  “Oh, right.” Liz felt bad, she did not remember him at all. “How’s your company doing?”

  “Well, the one I had started when we last met did great. It’s Narwal—the geotracker for the whaling industry.”

  “Remind me, did you sell it?”

  “Yeah, I sold it to a big oil company. Now I’m working on something similar for the farming industry. Early phases, but promising.”

  Liz sipped her martini as he spoke about the innovative ways people could use modified corn species. She found it interesting. Her tower would be in farm country after all.

  The tenth dinner guest arrived late. It was another woman—slightly older than the rest of the group. She took the open seat beside Liz. After a brief hello, the woman turned her back to Liz and spoke cheerfully with the man to her other side.

  The sea bass arrived, along with a second martini. Liz passed and asked the robot for wine instead
, “something red, you pick.” The robot seemed as pleased as a robot could be.

  Ken stood and raised his glass—something green and bubbly. “Thank you all again for joining tonight. This marks my seventeenth monthly dinner. So I’d like to raise a toast to another rich discussion. May we grow tighter and brighter together—cheers!”

  Everyone clinked glasses and drank.

  “Tonight’s main topic is building the future. I introduced Liz Trammell earlier, but Liz, would you mind leading us off? Tell us more about your tower, and what it means for our world?”

  Liz nodded and set her drink down.

  Ken smiled graciously. “Remember, this is among friends. Whatever is said here stays here.”

  And stays in the Babel servers. Liz gave a faint smile to Jax, grateful for the heads up about this. She didn’t want to say too much. “As many of you know, I’m building a tower. And as you may have heard, it’s going to be tall.”

  The group laughed.

  “As for what it means for the world, well, two things for starters,” she said. “We can build faster and stronger than ever before. Only the raw materials have to be shipped. We’re going to forge it all together right there at the building site, 3D printing most of it. The second point is that we can build this anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised to see more towers popping up in rural areas around the world, instead of just in cities.”

  “But why?” It was the arrogant-looking guy in the turtleneck. “If you could build anywhere, why build in the middle of nowhere?” Liz had learned from Sam that he was Lawrence Clint, who had coded the latest search algorithm upgrades. Some said he was as good as Jax. His grin suggested he knew this. “Why not here in the valley?” he asked. “Why not New York?”

  “Too expensive, too crowded.”

  Lawrence beamed. “I watched your interview. I’m sure many of us did. We know you’re not worried about the cost. Why Nebraska?”

  Liz felt all the eyes on her. For some reason the face of Jake Conrad appeared in her mind. She couldn’t imagine anyone who would have been more out of place at this dinner. But she almost felt like she’d enjoy getting to know him more than this Lawrence guy. “I could give a hundred reasons,” she said. “You heard them during my interview.”

  “I heard a nice PR pitch. But seriously, Nebraska?”

  “You all make lots of decisions,” Liz said. “For the big ones, doesn’t it come down to following your gut?”

  “For a multi-billion dollar project?” Ken asked, brow raised.

  “There’s also the nation’s largest aquifer underneath,” Jax piped up. “The land is wide open. And the governor gave us freedom to do what we want.”

  “I’m asking you, not your spokesperson.” Lawrence’s eyes had not shifted from Liz. “I don’t believe in gut instincts. We all know the stomach can’t think. You want us to just nod along while you throw good money after bad ideas. The world expects more from us.” He paused. “So I’ll ask again: why Nebraska?”

  My father, she thought. The edges of her vision went blank. The room wobbled a little. She saw only Lawrence’s sharp, severe face and his cap of jet black hair. She was not going to think about her father now.

  “Take it easy, Lawrence.” Ken had leaned forward, his hands folded. “This isn’t an interrogation.”

  Lawrence’s gaze turned to the host. “You knew she’d face questions like this. We have to challenge each other if we’re going to keep building great things. Look, I like the tower idea. But it has to serve our world. I’ve seen too many of us run around chasing our own pet projects. It gives us a bad name.” He turned to Liz, eyes intense. “You understand?”

  Liz kept a straight face. Now she knew the guy’s game. He was the enemy. He was the force that grinds down freedom and independence and joy and creation. He was like the men who rejected her father’s designs. He was a murderer of ideas—all in the name of benevolence and the common good. How dare he achieve his own dreams and then tell her there was something wrong with hers. She would not let him push her around.

  “I understand you.” She pronounced each syllable deliberately, slowly. “I didn’t come here to explain myself. I am building the world’s tallest tower. It will be a monument to human potential. It will change the world. And I want it in Nebraska. My motives are my own.”

  The room was perfectly silent. Lawrence took a long drink. Ken took a bite of sea bass.

  Liz gazed around at the others. A few uncertain smiles. “Something drives us to where we are,” Liz said. “We can try to explain it, to rationalize it. But I know that, deep down, the fire inside of me defies explanation. I will not sell myself short, and neither should you.”

  “I ain’t sellin’ anything short.” A large man with small glasses patted his chest. “It’s just about the money for me. I’m a businessman and down-home man, a simple man. No one wants you to waste your cash.”

  “Money is not simple, Cody,” Lawrence said, then turned back to Liz. “You must know what drives you or it will consume you. Listen, I’ve tried what you’re doing, pretending it can’t be explained. It’s nothing but running from your demons. It doesn’t work.”

  “She has no demons,” Jax said. “Maybe you’re just jealous of the attention she’s getting.”

  “Oh? No demons?” Lawrence grinned at Jax. “How about her father? The failed architect, Reg Trammell. Didn’t he have something to do with a tower?”

  “Hey,” Jax warned. “That’s out of bounds.”

  “Just because he killed himself?” Lawrence taunted. “Couldn’t handle the pressure…maybe like his daughter?”

  Jax did not hesitate. He hurled his glass straight at Lawrence’s head. The man ducked the missile and surged to his feet. “You—”

  “Enough!” Ken slammed his fists on the table. “Both of you. Get out. Now.”

  “What about her?” Lawrence growled.

  “Lawrence.” Ken spoke the word like a death sentence. “That’s enough. Jax, I apologize for my friend’s rudeness, but you have crossed the line. You have to leave now.”

  Lawrence shook his head, muttering “waste of time,” and sauntered out.

  Jax began to leave but paused behind Liz.

  “Liz, you are welcome to stay,” Ken said. “Please, Lawrence probably just had too much to drink. The conversation will be much more cordial.”

  Liz carefully folded her napkin and set it on the table. “Thank you. But it’s late.”

  Ken smiled warmly. “You’re welcome back anytime.”

  “Thank you.” Liz rose and walked out with Jax. Her arm curved through his, leaning on his sturdy support. Her thoughts were years in the past and miles away. She couldn’t feel Jax’s heart thumping hard beside her.

  22

  Katarina sat at her desk, staring at the screen. She’d gotten her inbox down to zero again. All messages responded to and filed for the day. She turned to the stack of purchase orders next. Any contracts for more than a thousand Babel units had to be signed by the CEO, which meant Katarina had to review them and sign on Liz’s behalf. She flipped through the pages, signing each one on the bottom. Deals in Iran, Mongolia, and Indonesia. They were going to need more chips from the factory in China. She went back to the computer and dashed off an email to the factory manager. She glanced at the clock. 12:24.

  She’d been at it for five hours straight since her day’s last meeting. At last she could step away.

  The office was perfectly silent as she rose and turned to the wall of glass. She loved the way the city looked at night, with its few remaining lights dotting the horizon and glimmering in reflection over the water.

  She slowed her breathing, making it deeper. She reminded herself, as she had to after every day, that this boring work served an immensely important purpose. She had earned Liz’s trust and the board’s trust the hard way. No tricks. No shortcuts. Just years of grinding through the work, and doing it well, making Babel’s operations hum.

  She was getting so much clos
er to what she wanted. She’d have unique access to the data. She’d have so much power that even the one calling the shots, the Russian president himself, would have to take her calls. And with that leverage, she would protect herself in a way her parents never could. Their reward for a lifetime of service was being abandoned after they were caught as spies and executed. The data would be her insurance policy. If she alone could access it, she would become indispensable.

  She jumped at the distant sound of footsteps. Then she laughed a little inside at her moment of fear. No one in Babel’s office was a threat to her.

  As the footsteps came closer, she could make out the familiar click against the floor. It had to be Owen. Only he would be here this late, wearing his wingtips.

  He showed up in the doorway moments later. His black skin looked particularly dark against his slim-fitting khaki suit. He wore a bright blue tie and a leather messenger bag over his shoulder. Katarina might have found him attractive if she didn’t despise his nosy meddling with her business and constant warnings about whatever securities laws he worried Babel could risk violating.

  “Hey Kat,” he said. “Got a minute?”

  She put on her practiced smile. “Sure, come on in. I was just wrapping up.”

  “Another late night.” He took a seat in front of her desk as Katarina sat opposite him. “What’s keeping you busy?”

  “The usual.” Her smile didn’t budge. “What can I help you with?”

  “I thought Liz was going to be in today, but I never saw her. Will she be around tomorrow?”

  Katarina shook her head. “She changed her plans and left this morning for Nebraska. She’ll be out through Sunday.”

  “Again?”

  “I think it’s going to stay this way for a while. You know how much Liz cares about the tower.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not exactly a slow time around here. I guess that leaves a lot of work on your shoulders, right?”