Read No Way Back for Free Online Page B

– you know, like David Paris? – we would have been S.O.L., because that state is insane, I mean
really insane – they won’t give us DMV access. They won’t give
anyone
DMV access. So we’re really at the mercy of the data sources. And then there’s the CPU
problem. The more data, the more CPUs you need. That’s why you gotta run this as SAAS from a data centre.’
    ‘But still,’ I say, not quite sure what he’s talking about, and also knowing it doesn’t really matter. This is a good demo. Lots of sizzle. Even if there’s not much
steak. Sizzle sells. Sizzle gets contracts signed.
    Randy looks to me. ‘Jim, I just want to say, one more time for the record, that it’s a very early alpha release. We only get 80% accuracy. That’s it.’
    I make a snap decision. ‘I don’t care. Let’s do it.’
    Randy looks wary. ‘Do what?’
    ‘We’re going to show this. We need to get cash in the door. And the only way to make people sign cheques is to show them something they can touch.’ I indicate the computer.
‘Can we bring this thing to a meeting?’
    ‘It’ll run anywhere,’ Darryl says. ‘We just need an Internet connection.’
    ‘Jim—’ Randy starts, sounding as if he’s about to protest.
    I turn to him. Something in my face tells him not to.
    ‘What?’ I ask.
    ‘Nothing.’
    Darryl says, ‘I can have it ready for tomorrow.’
    ‘Do it,’ I say.
    When I find David Paris, he’s in the kitchen, making popcorn. He’s bent over the counter, with his nose pressed against the microwave glass, staring into the oven
with the concentration of a warden counting prisoners.
    ‘David?’
    He turns. ‘Yes?’ He looks guilty. ‘I was just making popcorn. Do you like popcorn, Jim?’
    ‘No,’ I say. ‘Tell me how you plan to make money.’
    ‘Money?’
    ‘With our product. You’re the marketing person here. What’s the marketing plan? How do we actually make money?’
    ‘Oh, Jim,’ he says, with a strained uncomfortable look, as if I am a simpleton and he doesn’t want to embarrass me, not here in public. ‘We won’t be making money
for quite some time. Quite some time.’
    ‘How long, about?’
    ‘Well... ’ His voice trails off. He shrugs. ‘It’s hard to say.’
    Ding
, says the microwave. Time is up. David reaches in, takes out the popcorn, and carefully opens the bag, mindful of the scalding steam that puffs out when he prises the paper apart.
He turns to me. ‘Why do you ask?’
    ‘Why do I ask... how we’re going to make money? I don’t know. Just a passing fancy.’
    ‘Jim, you’re not from this industry, are you?’
    ‘What industry?’
    ‘Social, Jim,’ he says. ‘Social. Everything is social right now. It’s the new thing. Facebook. You use Facebook, don’t you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Well, there, you see,’ he says, as if he’s just proven his point. He reaches into the popcorn bag, munches on a handful, licks his fingers, reaches back into the bag, then
remembers to offer me some. ‘Want?’ he says, holding it out.
    ‘No,’ I say. ‘Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Who is going to pay us money for our product?’
    ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘I don’t think anyone. Not right away. But if you build it, they will come.’
    ‘Who will come?’
    ‘
They
,’ he says, looking around the room, as if
they
might be in the kitchen.
    ‘I don’t think anyone is going to come,’ I say. ‘And if they do come,
they
is going to be a bunch of kids who don’t have any money. You can’t run a
company if you don’t make money. You are aware of that fact, aren’t you, David?’
    ‘That’s very old-school,’ he says, smiling. ‘That’s not the way people think nowadays.’
    ‘It’s the way I think nowadays.’
    The tone of my voice registers somewhere in the deep recesses of his elfin brain. He becomes meek and obsequious. ‘Very good, Jim. Very good. Tell me what you have in mind, and I will
implement it.’
    ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘I don’t have