Masterpiece (because it is)

Masterpiece
When Love is more powerful than biggest business on Earth

Chapter one- A dream is vanished.

It is early morning, and I had just awoken from my dreams. Tonight, I slept alone in this big house, which is built on a steep cliff facing the sea. For all night, the noise from the sea is a sweet companion, be it in the nights with epic storms, be it in the night when the wind is a just a whisper. This night, the wind told of a far story, far in the space and in the time, a story of love and affection.
I didn't sleep much tonight. The bed wasn’t my best friend, and I walked alone in my empty house. In the cold of this winter, I was watching the crispy sea, and the little waves pursuing each other interminably. The sky was clear, of a deep night blue colour, and a waxing moon was my best company; she filled the sky, the sea, and my heart.
One wall of the house, on the side facing the sea, is a large glass window. From the floor to the ceiling, one side of this room is completely transparent, but nobody will never be able to watch me in this room. From time to time - a ship appears to the horizon, too far to think of watching eyes. The light of the Moon was casting a shadow tonight, competing with the ghostly reddish light produced from the fireplace. The popping noise of the fire was reminding me of the cold outside, and my eyes passed from the Moon to the fire... lost in his dance, I saw the deep of my soul, which was screaming with a question:
“Where have you been tonight?”
I watched the fire burning, I saw the waves undulating along the fireplaces, one here, one there; I felt the same fire burning in my chest, the same question moving from one side to another of my head:
“Why?”
I didn’t want to turn the light on in the room. While the fire seemed to replicate the flames I had in my heart, the Moon, still high in the sky, seemed to want give me a suggestion, an indication, a way to follow; it was only my numb mind not able to understand. Between the sky and the sea, she blinked at me, to my naked soul, to my staring eyes... in the haze of the night, in the noise of the fire, in the power of the waves, she whispered at me, and I finally, I understood what happened.
We grew up in two villages, few miles apart from each other. Every Sunday morning, I was with my parents when we attended the morning functions into an open field. The villages around that area were too small to have their own facilities for celebrations, holidays, and other social activities. We arrived in the dusty parking of the main village with my dad car, a blue old Triumph. My mother was always dressed with her clear blouse, a flowering gown, and medium heeled shoes... she was sat at the left of my dad, while myself and my little sister were on the backseat of the car.
She... she was arriving with her parents, on a much bigger car, of a colour which I can’t recall anymore; a colour resembling roasted hazelnuts. Her mom was a mastery of dressing art, with her sophisticate hats, impressive skirts made of silk and shirts, gloves, necklaces of shiny gold, glaring diamonds, bloody red rubies... Her dad was the typical English gentleman, of which... I can only recall the black tube hat.
The roads from our respective villages passed through a valley, crossing a small river. Every Sunday, we traversed this wonderful green valley, while my eyes were looking at the tall trees, the boundless greens, the lonely sheep... as I grew up, the Sunday trip through the green valleys of my infancy became a trip in my memory and in the story my love, in this travel that we made, together but separate, toward a future of hope and happiness.
When we arrived, her family was already sat down... I was able to spot her hat, her pinkly coloured shirt, her creamy skirt, her golden shoes, her black hairs... twelve years old kids yes, with a future written in the sky... this is what I felt in my heart. No matter what clouds could have covered it, my friend the wind would have always wiped them, to leave the solid azure blue always present, always there, thru my eyes, in the deep of my soul....
...and, after the annoying function, we were free to talk and to play, t urn in the greens and to tell stories each other. And story after story, my heart spoke up, so did hers. When we finished the University, we married. We find tow high level jobs, we become two respected adults, so did our love. And we built our dream house on a peak upon the sea, the one in which I am crying now.
We travelled frequently, for reasons related to work. Sometime together, sometime separated. Once a month, we come to our old villages to visit our parents... It was only fifteen years ago when our eyes met for the first time, yes we still were kids, but in love forever.
Last week had been an hectic week for both of us. We have been working separately at the two sides of the Atlantic Ocean; we had been discussing every night over the phone of the day, and we agreed to meet on the coming Saturday at the home of my parents, here at the village. Coming directly from two different airports, we agreed to meet at the place of the first sight, in front of the green, at nine o’clock.
She didn’t come.
While I was wandering through the room, the phone rang. I watch the display of the phone, it’s her. My heart was beating like the thunders in the night. My mind started to run, like an avalanche, through my memoirs...
It was yesterday of last year. We had completed an hard task in our respective workplaces, so we decided for a brief vacation together. We rented a small boat, and we were navigating the Seine in a clear Paris night. Her eyes were reflecting the lights of the shops and the buildings along the river... I was alternating between the vision of her eyes and the starry night, with her hand in my hand. If love don’t speak common words, that was a very moment of it; in the silence of love, in the harmony of the place, under the blink of the stars, our thoughts were running fast, walking together, singing in a choir. In that very moment, we designed our path to the glory, our ascent in the society, our success in the financial world.
We had an idea, and a good one. And for one year, we tackled every objective, we sorted out every target, we convinced every person... until the signature, a week ago, of a contract in New York City which made us rich for our lifetime... and beyond.
My hand was trembling... I lifted the phone receiver, and with a broken voice, I said: “My love...” and she continued talking, with an angry tone of voice, “It seems that your love is not me anymore. I called to inform you that on the return flight from the United States one of your cute assistants showed me the burning proof of how you convinced that blond and sexy CEO to vote for us, and give us her support to the Board of Directors. Yes, we are rich... but I don’t think is the case we keep married anymore. Your way of achieving results is new to me, and I don’t like it at all.”
“Sweetie” I answered feebly. “What are you talking about? You are referring to Mrs. Katie Donovan, for sure. In my two weeks in the States, I built a strong work relationship with her, but I don’t see any connection with what you are saying now... you are talking like I had cheated on you, of betraying you with her; I didn’t do any of these things...”
“Liar” she said. “Your secretary has been given a picture from Mrs. Donovan secretary. In the picture, there is you and the Donovan in the bed in a luxury hotel room, and there is very little space for imagination there. The picture is very clear. I don’t know why somebody shot that picture, and what is behind this story. To say the true, I don’t care, and I don’t even want to know. All I know is that your declaimed love is made of bare words, not real facts. I feel really bad, I strongly believed in each of the things we invented together, just to see you are one of the worst offenders to my dignity I ever met. Enjoy your freshly made money, I hardly will. Don’t look for me anymore. Adieu, my dear...”
And she hang up.
I remember the summer of last year. We had a long vacation in one of the most beautiful place on Earth, on the island of Maui, in the Hawaii. The geology there had worked to create a place of staggering beauty, with waterfalls, volcanic mountains, crystal clear waters with incredible high, and calm, waves. The twin volcanoes, with their magically timed eruptions, had created a special environment; a quartz-poor, iron-rich soil is the host to astonishing wildlife, incredible natural phenomena painted of vibrant, lovely colours, not seen anywhere else on Earth.
In a sunset of staggering colours, that day we were walking along the shoreline; the waves of the sea were mountain-high at that very moment. A friend of ours was riding the wave on a surf; against the setting sun, in a orange colour of a million different tonalities we were watching him, and the sky at the same time.
We were walking hand in hand; and the mountain of water, with our friend yelling of happiness on the top of it, felt the size of our love in our hearts. Nowhere, in any time of my life, I had felt such great hope in our relationship, with the vision of a challenging but rewarding future, together.
I can still recall the rest of that day; after having walked among those unbelievable sights, we ended the day with a lovely candlelight dinner.
And now...
I walked toward the bed, and fall asleep.
It is night. In a strange dawn which is halfway between a dream and the reality, I find myself walking in the Palace of Versailles. It is a desert, like nobody ever imagined it… where many facts, many stories, many plots had developed, along those dark hallways I seem to spot the ghosts of history…
Moonlight is entering from the high windows, sometime interrupted from the too strong rain which is falling in the afternoon. Few dim oil lanterns are illuminating some spots in the hallways.
I found myself in the Mirror Hall, the most exclusive meeting place of the monarchic France, which hosted treaties and decisions that made the history… these wonderful mirrors, built from the Venetian masters forced to work in Gobelins… they reflect my shadow, and I ask them to enlighten my thoughts.
I keep erring in the Palace, between the sumptuous furnishings and the famous porcelains… until I am in the famous Fifth Chapel, with the sacred frescos which reflect a non existing light…
…and between my memoirs and the walls, the marriage of Marie Antoinette with the Dauphin, the “Te Deum” played in the occasion of the many battles won from King Sun.
I walk slowly in the hallway that connects the Halls of Gods. Lately, the Hall of Mars has been converted to a dancing Hall.
I didn’t know it existed. Close to the Hall of Mars, there is a smaller room. The door is halfway open. I lean toward to look in the opening… there is a walnut table, of oval shape, along which many person are seated; but I don’t see their faces.
It was the night of June 17th,1815. I realised it from what they were saying.
“Tomorrow morning Napoleon will attack the Prussians at Waterloo, because this afternoon it was raining too intensely… but he will not find them. Between the afternoon and the night, the Prussian moved on, and he didn’t knew it. They have united their forces with the Duke of Wellington, and together with the British, they will win the battle, the last battle of the Revolution…”
These people said.
I am listening to them with a particular enchantment, since there is no trace of this meeting in the well documented French history. They keep talking…
“Joaquin Murat has left Naples the last 20th of May, after a reign lasted ten years… The Spanish have the Reign of Naples again, now. With the return of Napoleon, he will try to conquer again the Reign of the Two Sicily, which himself unified…
…now Joaquin is in Corsica. He has found some supporters in Naples against the Borbons… the Neapolitans loved a naïve King like him…”
In the meantime, I can hear some acute voices coming out of the badly lighted room. There must be women around the table.
“Joaquin will find a thunderstorm while navigating from Corsica to Naples. He will experience a shipwreck and will end in Calabria, in October, and there he will be condemned by a Court.”
If my memory still serves me well, all these date and facts match perfectly with the known history… and with the fact that the rain has ruined more than one aspiration of the French people.
I lean again the half open door. There are four oil lamps burning at the four sides of the room, and they produced a very dim light, unable to cast any shadow. The peoples seated around the table are dressed with jackets and capes, with their heads covered with large hats to protect them from the cold temperature. Under that poor lighting, they remain faceless for me … but I keep listening, astonished, nonetheless.
I heard a woman voice saying: “I am from Venice. I was at the Ducal Palace the morning of the 12th of May 1797… it was my fifteenth birthday. I was looking at the ceiling, contemplating the Triumph of Venice painted from the Veronese, while listening the last Doge, Ludovico Manin, when he convinced the Major Council to let the French, which were stationed in the Laguna, to come in Venice without fighting…
...by doing so, he spared his own life, but we lost Venice. The 15th of May I was on the Rialto Bridge, in a shop under the arcades, while watching the French crossing the Great Canal. What happened after… Everybody knows. The most complete devastation. I was crying when the French torched the Bucintoro; I travelled aboard on it many times. They burned it to recover all the gold…”
“My dear” said a deep male voice from the other side of the table, “Man do Revolutions because they are hungry, impoverished, and denied at same time, because of strict rules, the possibility of any improvement. After the Revolution, they are even more hungry and impoverished, but the rules have changed; so there is a rebirth. The same simple reasoning applies to the Nations… the Men will end all the fights only when they will stop to identify themselves with the rules they created to protect themselves from the bad side of their nature.”
The last speaker sounded like a person of very deep knowledge and nature. I am wondering who are those persons who speak of their past and their future at the same time. He keeps saying: “”We are here to observe and decide. After this meeting, I would like to see all of you here again next week… together with the unknowing listener which is outside the door…”

At this point, I woke up, and screamed. I left the bed. What a strange dream.

We visited together the Palace of Versailles soon after our marriage, and it impressed me… but this dream has a special meaning.
I can recall that we had just finished the High School and one day, by walking along the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, we stopped at a record shop and bought a vinyl record. It was “Time Passages” from the British singer Al Stewart.
Once we were back from our joint families vacation, at her house, we placed the record on the player, and started listening it. We were astonished while playing one of the song for the first time; this song was “Palace of Versailles” with its classical music background, and the words telling the mighty imaginary journey of the singer in the famous historical building.
We had our first magical moment listening that song.
And this dream… that song represents the dream I just dreamed; my the images in dream were just a bit more detailed. Without it, I would have never recalled of our first magic moment in Scotland. I just want her back. The rest of the night passed unnoticed, and I slept quietly until the morning.
I wake up and was driven from a long-time instinct in showering, shaving, and dressing... all semi-automated chores a man conduct in the morning for a lifetime. I had to go to the office to attend some important meetings, some of which in teleconferencing. The new fortune requires some attention; and that attention come very expensive to me, in a moment when my heart was half-stopped from this totally unjust reaction from my love. What I haven’t understand of her?
I arrived in my office. The office took all the eleventh floor of an high rise building in Central London; I was looking at the Thames river when I turned on the computers on my desk. Seagulls were reaching close to my windows today; it usually meant, in my experience, that some form of bad weather was approaching from sea. The slow computers had been turned off for many days, so when they finished booting they started updating. I once thought that the valve televisions of my infancy were slow to turn on, but computers added a new dimension to the meaning of sluggishness. The coffee pot was warm and ready before the computers were accessible, so I filled my mug and I started to look at the scenery of the City beside the windows. The computers were beeping after some more automatic reboots, while I was looking at a cargo ship navigating the Thames. A popping noise from my big screen computer requested my attention: it was an instant message on Skype.
I placed the mug, still hot, on a ceramic tile with the representation of a dragon, which I received as a compliment from one of our Chinese customers. I tried to click on the Skype icon, which was bumping up and down showing a number one, but the batteries in the mouse were gone. As another necessary step in this slow-to-start morning, I picked up some new batteries from the bottom drawer of my desk, placed in the mouse, recycled the old ones, and the pointer was finally moving on the screen. I clicked on the icon. And my breath stopped for uncounted moments.
She wrote to me: “Dear Alistair, I realised that my decision has been very drastic; while I have all the good reasons for it, I also realised that I haven’t given you any possibility of appeal. While I can anticipate you that I am not going to change my mind, in the name of the absolute fairness that has always bred in our past relationship, I decided to give you the possibility of speaking to me, in person, of the reasons of my decision. See you at lunch, at the old place. Elisabeth.”
I was so astonished that I didn’t know if to be enthusiast of what she said, or be scary of the assertiveness of the message. While my mind was undecided, my right index finger took control, and double-clicked on the “Beth” display name, effectively placing a video call to her. It didn’t take long for her to answer; after the third ring, her face appeared in the communication window.
“Good Morning Al” she said with her argentine tone of voice. “I’m happy to see you up and running in this beautiful day”. Well. I was up, but I didn’t if I was running at all. Beth was beautiful as ever, with her blond curly hair dancing on her face, the delicate makeup so he looked like a doll from the seventeenth century. Her eyes were never challenging, and always sharing. Above all, I love her for the profound intelligence, and her ability to share her innermost feelings with me. She continued: “Tonight I am leaving for the Eternal City, where I will meet some new customers.. I am happy to see you at lunch to speak of some personal things; I think that, even if you misbehaved, you deserve to speak to me in person, not over the air...”
“Beth I love you”. I wasn’t able to say more. She realised it and, in her usual approach to other persons, gave me some lead. “Al, for one side, I am grateful to you. I loved you because you are a dreamer, with an unchained fantasy coupled with a sublime mathematical ability; it has been your idea of uniting financial modelling, project management and the theory of games in one formula that made us rich with lifelong, guaranteed total planning of the transition from obsolete nuclear power plants to new safe and green power generation types. All major governments and corporations in the world will be using our services for at least the next thirty years, and more customers are coming, so...”
I found the courage to interrupt her. Better, she gave me that courage with her statements; and she knew I had understood it. “Beth, it has been your ability to understand the right kind of persons to associate to our new venture, almost entering their minds, that has materialised the project and transformed it into a success...” “Yes, maybe” she replied. I continued: “I’m happy to see you, and I will be even more happy to explain you what happened in New York and, even happier if you give me another chance...” She interrupted me: “See you at lunch time”. The Skype windows closed. For once in my lifetime, I appreciated my computer. But I needed to think, to anticipate the reasons why Beth dumped me, to built a reasonable behaviour; even if, a fairy told me, it wasn’t the right approach; so, back to the drawing board. I had few hours to think, before meeting Beth at lunch time.
In a corner of my office, I had an audio rack from the eighties. I come to partially hate all the digital music, notwithstanding its practicality and easiness. To be truly inspired, I needed the warm and un -sampled music coming from a vinyl record; and yes, I also had a collection of old disks in my office. As a testament to this very moment, I picked one specific disk from the stash, placed it on the turntable, put the diamond needle pick-up on the disk, and I started listening. It was the “Dance of the Hours” from the Italian composer Amilcare Ponchielli. I saw the dance once, with twelve female dancer in a circle representing the hours, and two male dancers at the centre, representing the hands of the clock. In the original Gioconda work of Ponchielli, this dance take place in the Ca’ D’oro in Venice, facing the Great Canal, when the chief of Inquisition entertains his guests. What is more true for myself, in this very moment. Now, let’s recap on what happened in New York. Kate Donovan is the CEO of an American capital joint venture, who decided to use our systems of provable planning forecast to make a long term investment. They are handling the revenues of some nuclear plants, building some water dams in Africa and India, while trying to invest in some greener energy ventures. Their ideas on the long term were not clear. What I did? I asked her their capital flow data, their investments size, their actual contract and few other information. The same night, I fed the information in my laptop, which transferred the consolidated data to our supercomputer in London, which crunched the information and come up with a solution that could be tested in any moment for its successfulness. The solution included the detailed contracts, the type of scientific investments, the size and type of the new plants and the procedures and project costs of the decommissioning of the old ones. The solution included the building of a progressive solar plant in Africa at the centre of the desert, complete of transport and water infrastructure; some giant electric network peak levelling plants, and two intrinsically safe, bed-of-spheres nuclear plants. And, at every moment in time, the level of the capital investment versus the revenues was under total control. Katie Donovan was very very happy but... she started to cry. We were in the small coffee room of a big hotel where the general corporations meeting took place, and I felt somewhat embarrassed. I uselessly told her that I was waiting for the vote, tomorrow, of the various CEOs for assigning the general contract to my company, as she was one of the voting members. As the meeting was concluded, She asked me to follow her in her room, so we could talk better. I didn’t see any risk in accepting the invitation. How wrong I was? I don’t know. Her vote, tomorrow, decided the assignation of the contract to our company.
I knocked on the door and entered her room. Katie was a woman of my age, in her early forties, and provided a particular fascination. Not too tall, with long gold hair, brown eyes, with a perennial smile that, I am sure, was hiding a ever-inquiring mind. In ten years, after her University degree, she started to work as independent accountant, and now she is in control of a financial empire. But she is a grey eminence, she doesn’t appear on any of the mundane financial chronicles; but everybody in the sector knows her very well. She worn a formal brown tailleur when I entered her room; the only feminine attribute, that she put on after the formal meeting, where a pair of earrings with a small eagle, and a golden necklace with an hollow, amber coloured stone.
I watched in her eyes, and I felt a strange feeling, not usually associated to a business meeting, as this was supposed to be. This feeling was that she wanted me to get deeper in the background of her business operations, in an emotional manner. And yes, is what happened last. We sat at the small round table in her apartment, and she started to speak.
“Alistair, myself and the persons that I represent have fully understand the range and the possibilities of the new tools you and your wife developed. By eliminating the randomness from long term investments, you rendered a good service to the entire Mankind. Now it is possible to setup long term ventures that will only benefit the economy as a whole...”. “Thanks for your words, Kate”, I replied. Her look was becoming tense while she was saying these words. She also was projecting a feeling of weakness. She kept saying: “You may think that your methodologies are all good, but the world of long-term investments is not entirely used for the good of the people and the general economy. More than often, long-term investments hide powerful financial games between opposed strengths which are well hidden. We found out at our headquarters that, applying your methodology in reverse to current long-term investments, it is possible to determine who are the actual players and who is doing what to who. Two nights ago, we run your model in reverse on the most relevant current investments worldwide, and you cannot imagine what we discovered.” She stopped talking; she was looking at her hands and had a sad expression. I replied: “You don’t have the connecting algorithms of our systems, how was possible that you...” She interrupted me: “You need the algorithms if you want to make the correct forecast; If you use the current investment data as your input, it is enough to apply the knots theory portion from your methodology: that, we have been able to reverse engineer it, as it is common with other current modelling theories.” “Wow” I was only capable to say. I felt strange inside, and my mind started to run wild. I stood up, and walked to the window to look at the greens and the parking lot. It was a very cold and clear morning, with un untypical clean air for the City of New York. It was possible to listen some small birds singing, as the day was particularly calm. I walked some more and sit down on the edge of the bed. I said to her: “We thought of some possible ramifications of our model, Katie. We didn’t realised that it would have created problems to some speculators.” “It is not simple speculation” she said, while she stood up too, walking toward the tea table. “It is the most powerful game on Earth, and they don’t play the standard rules of good and evil. When you are involved in it, you don’t know any more on what side you are playing. There are no simple targets... Do you want some tea? “Yes” I replied. She brought me a cup of tea, and she sat at mi right on the side of the bed. In front of us there was a stylish utility table, and I saw both of us reflected in the mirror. She looked pretty sad, like someone who was tired beyond recovery. I said to her: “Katie, can I ask you a personal question?” “Sure” was her reply. “How you get to this position? Sometime I see you very satisfied of your actions, sometime – like now – I see you very sad and regretful...” “Al, I had a difficult start. In my infancy, my dad left me and mom alone, and with limited resources. I carried on nonetheless, and soon after I completed the University, I got married. It didn’t last very long, because I was looking for the affirmation in life that I was always denied, while my husband was looking for an out-of-sight life, closed in small beliefs and reliefs, notwithstanding the fact he was a very bright person; he was allergic to human exchanges. After the separation, I decided to enter the finance world; I used my qualifications as an accountant to be hired in a small equity firm, and from there I started to provide unsolicited inputs to my bosses, who made lucrative transactions upon my indications... but, at the same time, they become my “slaves” in their decisions, if I can say so. Shortly, I took control of everything, and after a round of very well chosen worldwide acquisitions, there isn’t any more a global business that doesn’t require my approval. I have unlimited wealth, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I feel uncomfortable even to show it off, therefore I prefer to act from shadow. But, believe me, even in my position, I don’t feel realised: sometime I can direct the fortunes of the world but, more often than not, I can only modify their path. And, as the time goes by, I feel like I don’t want this responsibility anymore. Feeling more and more lonely every day has left a deep track in my soul... maybe you have built the solution to it.” And while she was saying these words, she started to cry, leaned toward me, and placed her face on my lap. I was surprised at first, but since I did not perceived any provocative intention, I thought that she long needed a sort of sincere, non-finalised human contact. I placed my right hand on her head, and started scratching her. “Katie, it not yet the moment for you to give up. You are too brilliant to leave now, when we have a new powerful weapon on the side of the good...” With a very tiny voice, she said: “I wish it is so” and, slowly, she sat straight again, recovered her cup of tea from the table in front of us, and started to sip. “It is my intention to vote to give the contract to your company. I represent the majority of the equity firms, over the seventy percent, but the other ten guys in the assembly don’t know it yet. So, my vote is the only one who really counts. Before the final meeting of tomorrow morning, I can tell to you Alistair, that you and Beth have got the contract...”
Within the inner happiness for this once-in-a-lifetime achievement, I got some other mixed feelings. Katie was sat to my right, small but powerful; I had no idea why she decide to support me so profoundly, both emotionally and financially. For a split second, I recalled of a game that was very diffused between the rich and noble merchants of the old Republic of Venice, that ruled the markets in the world for very long time. The game was called “Toto or Nihil” that from the ancient Latin meant “Everything or Nothing”. The object of the game was a person and everything he or she had, inclusive of family, business and properties. If you lose in this game, you became a lifetime slave to the game winner. But it was just a brief thought. I didn’t say thanks to Katie, I don’t know why. I said: “Kate, I hope this new model will change the shape to the ways the high finance business is conducted. With you at our side, I am sure it is more than a simple possibility...” “Yes Al, I am convinced of that, too.” I was a bit confused, and my actions were driven from the instinct rather than a reasonable logic. I stood up, walked to the window again, and said to her: “Kate, I hope this alliance is forever. I want to go now and produce some more model run, before tomorrow morning...” “Al” she said, “Only time will tell if our alliance has to continue. I strongly hope so. Take the time you need to complete your tasks, and we see tomorrow morning in the meeting room upstairs.” I pulled my jacket on the shoulders, and walked toward the door; she accompanied me, and locked the door.
When I was back in my room, I contacted Beth. She was in Central Europe, trying to cut a similar deal for our company; it was evening at her place. She had rented a small flat. She answered to the Skype video call: she was beautiful as ever. “Beth I have a very good news” “Already? The vote is for tomorrow at your place, if I recall it correctly.” “Beth, do you have a wired connection instead of the WiFi at your place?” I asked her. “Yes, I do”, she answered, knowing the motivation behind my question. “So, boot the laptop in secure mode, place the Secbox between the computer and the network cable, and run it on battery. I have something to say you.” “Ok, see you in a while”.
The Secbox is a specially tailored hardware encryption device, able to encrypt network packets with a one-thousand twenty-four bits algorithm, and can be activated only watching it. Yes, it loads the encryption key with a retinal scanner. It cost us a fortune to develop and built it, but we had our share of trouble with software encryptors, with root kits installed via USB sticks that disabled them. I worn the headphones and the laryngeal microphone, and after a couple of minutes me and Beth were talking to each other with our mouths closed. “Beth, I hate this setup, but it is necessary, I need to tell you one single thing...” “Al, I understand.. I hate it even more.” “You are beautiful!” I said. “And this is the secret you have to tell me over the crypto?” She said, pretending to be upset with me. “No, I just finished to speak with Katie Donovan. There are eleven members in the voting panel, but she, alone, represents over the seventy per cent of the American equity firms that intends to give us the contract. From what she told me, the other members of the panel are not aware of the size of her representation, which will be revealed only after the vote. Few minutes ago, in private, she promised me her vote. Hurrah...”.
Beth is one of the most intelligent persons on the planet. She acquired the information, and did not looked happy. To save time over the painfully secure connection, and knowing her, I asked: “Your doubt is... her size?” “Yes Al. Seventy percent means that she is there to represent the totality of the world invisible capitals. There is something that we are not able to see in the proper perspective. I want to think about it, but our general direction is correct... let this happen.” I continued: “Beth, I will tell you the details in person, but she went a bit overboard when we were talking in private. She told me of her infancy and the reasons behind her enormous grey power, apparently showing a weak side of herself...” And Beth said: “Are you sure it wasn’t an physical approach disguised as an emotional confidence? Do I need to be jealous?” I replied: “I didn’t had the perception of an approach. And you don’t need to be jealous, you are my only and eternal love!” She smiled, and continued: “Al, I need to have dinner and go sleep, tomorrow I’ll fly back to home to wait for you. I want to see you as soon as possible...” I said: “Do you want to continue the conversation normally, instead of talking like fishes over this circuit?” “No”, she replied. “I will call you briefly before falling asleep. Love.” “Love” I replied, and closed the communication.
Well, the next time I will hear Beth, it is when she called to dump me. I wasn’t aware, nor I was thinking it was possible, that in Katie Donovan room there was a set of cameras that recorded every single moment of our particular meeting. Katie secretary delivered a set of pictures to Beth secretary, exactly when I was on the plane flying back home, with the result that Beth... was not there. The picture were taken from the scene when Katie placed her head on my lap, but they were shot from an angle that, in my opinion, was carefully planned. This means that Katie was involved in the plot? I will need to speak to her. Strange thing, the pictures could have fallen in the hand of the media, but they did not. In total, I believe that the target is to separate myself and Beth. And here is another problem. Beth is not a superficial person; in her mind she runs various overlapped and deep layers of thoughts for every conceivable situation, and at same moment she has an irremovable faith in myself, just like I have faith in her. It is something we defined together when we got married; should the need for cheating come from either side, we wowed to tell each other before it would have actually happened. This is because we placed the self-respect of our intelligence and our sensibility above any mundane convenience or selfishness. So, she known that, notwithstanding the special angled pictures, I haven’t cheated on her. There is something I do not understand, because I do not have enough information. Specifically, there must be an involvement between our forecasting systems and a powerful and hidden entity. Somebody, somewhere, requires we stay away from each other. This is my best guess. Beth would never have dumped me... not in this life.



CONTINUED