Fishbowl (41 page)

‘I don't want to be the best. Not at that.'

‘And you think it'll stop? At least if we're the ones—'

‘Chris, don't give me that argument again. Maybe when people have Fishbowl, when they can come to a place where they're not being targeted, they'll do that instead. Maybe things will change. Maybe other sites will have to follow.'

‘You're insane.'

‘And your opinion of people has always been a little too low.'

‘My opinion of people has been exactly what people have proven it to be. I gave them FriendTracker. They could have used
it to reward friendship. What did they do? They used it to tear each other apart. More fun than the Colosseum.' Chris shook his head. ‘Jesus Christ. I knew you were naive when I met you but I never thought you were still this wet behind the ears. People don't care, Andrei. They don't … give … a …
fuck!
As long as they don't have to pay anything, they're happy. For the last twenty years, every single service they've used has raped them for personal data and beamed advertising straight back at them – shitty, untargeted advertising that's about stuff they couldn't care less about.

And what do they do? They keep on using the services that do that to them. At least we've found a way of getting to them about stuff they actually might care about it. Honestly, look at our pathetic species! We've all sold our souls for a home page and a search engine. And while you raise whatever pitiful sum you can get from your licensing, others will be earning a hundred times as much as you. And they'll use that to offer better services, quicker services, and all the idealistic people you think are going to hang on to your second-rate site are going to head on over without even waving goodbye. They'll keep selling their souls like they've always sold them, and Fishbowl will wither away. You're taking the greatest wealth machine anyone has ever created and you're strangling it at birth.'

‘I disagree with you,' said Andrei. ‘But even if you're right, it's my choice.'

‘No, that's where you're wrong.' Chris stopped, looked around for a moment, and leaned closer. ‘Two days ago, you could have said that. In case you don't remember, yesterday, you sold twenty per cent of your stock for forty billion dollars. That makes you the CEO of one of the world's biggest public companies. With that role comes certain responsibilities. Certain
legal
responsibilities. If you do what you're saying, the stock you sold is worthless. Nothing, zero, nada. You made promises to people.'

‘I made no promises to anyone,' said Andrei. ‘The prospectus says there's no certainty of anything.'

‘You allowed that prospectus to say that Fishbowl earns revenue from advertising. You allowed that prospectus to say the IAP offers the opportunity for significant licensing revenues. Half the value of the company at least comes from people expecting those licensing revenues and you know it.'

‘There will be licensing revenues.'

‘From advertising?'

‘It doesn't say that.'

‘You allowed people to think so.'

‘No, they chose to think so. This is a company in which I have a majority vote on the board, even if I own only ten per cent of the stock. I own forty-five per cent. Anyone investing in a company like that knows I can make a decision on a whim and there's no way to challenge it.
That's
what's clear in the prospectus. Didier Broule said it explicitly. I heard him. You invest in a company like that, you take your chances.'

‘So this is a whim, is it?'

‘No, it's not a whim!' Andrei stopped, conscious that his voice was raised, conscious that on the other side of the screen people must be able to hear him.

‘Everything all right?' asked Lopez, putting his head around the screen.

‘Everything's fine,' said Andrei. He turned back to his noodles, now going cold, and picked a prawn off the plate.

Lopez disappeared.

Chris leaned even closer. ‘This isn't a whim? You could have stopped this IPO. Even two days ago, you could have stopped it. What's happened in the past forty-eight hours, Andrei? Have you had some kind of epiphany?' Chris sneered. ‘Have you seen the light?'

Andrei closed his eyes. He wished he had stopped the IPO. He wished he had had the courage somehow to leap off the juggernaut and stop it. Everything about it was wrong. And yet he had let it happen.

Suddenly he looked at Chris. ‘I'll buy back the shares.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘I'll buy back the shares! The money's sitting in the bank. I'll offer to buy them back.'

‘Andrei, those shares are now worth twenty per cent more than you were paid for them.'

‘I'll pay what we sold them for. If people have speculated since then, then they've speculated. I asked forty-eight dollars, that's what I'll give for them. If they don't want to sell back, that's fine. If not, they can hold on to them and be investors in a true Fishbowl.'

‘The only investor you'll have in a true Fishbowl is you.'

‘And that's fine with me as well.'

‘You'll be tied up in litigation for the next fifty years.'

‘I'll take that chance.'

‘Why did you go to IPO? If this is what you were thinking, why did you do it?' Chris's lip curled. ‘You wanted the kudos, didn't you? You wanted to be the guy who had a two hundred billion IPO.'

‘You don't know how little that means to me.'

‘Yeah, right. Two hundred billion. It was just serving Andrei Koss's pride. And now you've done that, it's time to be holier than thou, even though it means ripping people off of the money they've put behind you.'

Andrei sighed. ‘I don't know why I did it.'. He didn't know why he had done lots of things. He didn't know why Fishbowl had ended up where it was. Maybe he really had wanted the kudos, or the money. But at least he knew where he was going now. ‘Someone said to me yesterday that it's never too late to stand up.'

‘Stand up? To what? You should step
down
. You don't deserve to lead this company, Andrei. You ought to step aside and give it to someone who does.'

‘Like you, I suppose?'

‘Give me this company and just see what I could do with it!'

‘Such as what?'

‘Such as, for a start, not committing the most public suicide the world has ever seen. You talk about betraying yourself.
This
is betrayal, Andrei. Betrayal of millions of shareholders, betrayal of the greatest business the world has ever seen. And for
nothing
. It will change
nothing
. Someone else will simply do what you could have done. You'll be a footnote to history, when you could have been a whole chapter.' He glanced away for a moment, shaking his head, as if dazed by disbelief at what Andrei had been saying. ‘You know what? When I first met you, I thought you were the visionary. I thought you were the guy who could see into that place ten or twenty years ahead. But I was wrong. All you've ever seen was what you saw sitting in your dorm room. You know, I've often asked myself, has Andrei Koss ever changed? Surely he can't believe all this sophomorish stuff he spouts about Deep Connectedness? Deep Connectedness! Shit, it's like they're the only two words you know! I'm so sick of hearing them. But you actually do believe it, don't you? You haven't changed one bit.
I'm
the visionary. I'm the one who saw the window opening up for Farming. I'm the one who proved the concept. I'm the one who saw the power of the model if we were able to program it.
I'm
the one who can see where that can take us now.'

‘No, Chris,' said Andrei quietly. ‘We can both see that.'

Chris stared at him. Then he snorted and shook his head again.

‘I'm going to announce it tomorrow,' said Andrei. ‘I've asked Alan to organize a press conference.'

‘Does he know what it's about?'

Andrei shook his head.

‘Does anyone?'

‘Not yet.'

‘Don't you think you ought to tell the board?'

‘It's a formality.'

‘Then as a formality.'

‘As I recall,' said Andrei, ‘you never seemed to be too worried about that kind of thing. But you're right. I should tell the board.
I'll get Jenn to see if she can get a call set up with them tomorrow morning.'

‘Watch them sell the shares they were granted. All those captains of industry. As soon as they get wind of this, they'll be out of here like rats on a ship. And all those people who were applauding you last night, everyone who loves you so much? Watch them on the express right out of Fishbowl once they realise what their options will be worth after this.'

Andrei shrugged. The decision that he had made, which was bigger than all the others that had caused him so much prevarication in recent times, had come to him with no procrastination at all. It wasn't until he had been on the roof of the Grey Warehouse with Ben the previous night that he had had the idea of stopping Farming – but as soon as he had, he had sensed it was the right thing to do. Not only the right thing, the only thing he could do. As he was driven home, as he had sat reading the notebooks that he had written in the first, heady year of Fishbowl's existence, as he had watched himself in front of the Senate committee, that feeling had hardened into certainty. By the time Sandy had come home, he had decided.

But it was one thing to decide – another to do. Andrei felt as if a huge weight had just lifted off him. Saying what he was going to do, even to Chris, made it real. Now he knew he was really going to do it.

‘You're making the world's greatest ever business mistake,' said Chris. ‘I'm selling my shares.'

‘Go ahead.'

‘The world's moving on, Andrei. You want to hold back the tide.'

‘No,' said Andrei. ‘But I'm not going to be the one who brings it in.' He got up.

Lopez put his head around the screen again.

‘Lopez, let me pay.'

‘No,' said Lopez. ‘Yao will kill me if I take your money.'

‘Let's see what he'll be saying in a week's time,' muttered Chris.

Andrei went around the screen and headed for the door.

Chris followed him. ‘I'd sell your shares if I were you,' he said to Lopez as he went past him. ‘And tell Yao to sell as well. Today.'

On the pavement outside, Andrei stopped. He was happy. He hadn't felt like this for months. Only now – having announced his intention – did he realize how oppressed he had been feeling. Only when the weight had gone did he realize how heavy it had been. For the first time in what seemed like years he was utterly at peace with a decision that he had made.

He put out his hand. ‘I hope you'll stay as one of our key investors, Chris. We can do great things. We can make this work. We really can.'

Chris grabbed his wrist. ‘You still don't have to do this, Andrei. Look, I said some harsh things. We both did. Do all the other things you want to do. The medical stuff, the education stuff. Absolutely. When we started the Manhattan Project, we both knew there were all kind of good things we could do with it. Just don't stop Farming. You can do both.'

‘No, I can't.'

‘Andrei, we've got seven years together. Let's talk about it some more.'

‘I've made up my mind. If you want to talk about it, let's talk about how you can help—'

‘Andrei?'

They both looked around. A big man with a blond goatee had stepped out of a car that was parked by the kerb.

‘I knew I'd find you here.' The man looked at him in anguish, his face was smeared with tears. He put out his arms. ‘I didn't believe it, Andrei! I didn't believe it until you did the IPO. You fucking sold us out. You fucking betrayed us.'

‘Andrei,' muttered Chris, ‘do you know who this is?'

Andrei held up his hands to ward off the man's arms. ‘Listen—'

‘You made a fool of me. All these years.' He reached inside his jacket.

Suddenly Andrei had a flash of
déjà vu
.

Boston. The Defence of Freedom. A hand reaching for a phone.

But it wasn't a phone this time. There were three shots. Andrei stumbled back against Chris. The man threw down the gun and ran.

Andrei slipped through Chris's hands. He was on the pavement, legs in the gutter. A gurgling sound came out of his mouth. His neck was covered in blood, his T-shirt flooded scarlet.

Chris knelt beside him. Bubbles of blood frothed at Andrei's mouth. His eyes turned up and fixed on him. Chris knew what they were saying. He didn't want to die, not here, not now, not in the arms of Chris Hamer.

46

FISHBOWL HELD ITS
press conference at the time and location that Alan Mendes had set up for Andrei on the following day. But instead of Andrei on the podium, Robert Leib, Chris Hamer and Jenn McGrealy fronted the press pack. The room was packed to overflowing.

Barry Diller had been apprehended that morning, still in the Bay Area. Driving erratically, he had crashed a rental car into a central reservation and had given himself up to a passing police unit before they had even asked for his driver's licence.

Robert Leib took the microphone to open the press conference. He unfolded a piece of paper.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, reading from the page. ‘Thank you for joining us today.' He took a deep breath. ‘These are difficult hours, particularly for those of us who knew Andrei Koss personally. Andrei was a brilliant, insightful and, most of all, a thoughtful young entrepreneurial leader who has been cut off in his prime, and the loss is staggering.' Leib paused, shaking his head reflectively. ‘Staggering. I first met Andrei in my office at LRB and from the moment he spoke I knew I was in the presence of someone truly exceptional. He was a young man of immense intelligence and talent but, more importantly – and this is what made him such a great leader – he was always willing to be challenged. He challenged himself more than anybody. I saw Andrei do great things. I expected and had looked forward to seeing him do even greater things in the years to come. Our hearts go out to his family – Sergei, Anna, Dina and Leo – to his
girlfriend, Sandy, and to everyone else who is grieving for Andrei today.'

He paused solemnly.

‘Well, I'm not here to do a eulogy. That's for another place and another time. There is a business to consider, and even at times like this we are forced to consider it. The board of Fishbowl convened an emergency call this morning. To lose a leader like Andrei is never easy, to lose him the day after our IPO poses an extraordinary challenge. It will take time to find a new leader for Fishbowl. A hasty appointment would be a bad appointment. The board, however, does not believe that at this time, so shortly after our IPO, we can leave the position vacant, even for a brief period. We have therefore decided to appoint an interim CEO to lead the company through this transition.

‘We have, we believe, found someone who has shown by his association with the company that he thoroughly understands Fishbowl, its culture, its ethos and its aspirations. The close personal association that he had with Andrei was also critically important in helping us reach this decision. Over the past seven years he has worked closely with Andrei on all of the most important developments in Fishbowl. I have seen personally how he shared Andrei's vision and am sure that no one knows better what Andrei wanted or envisaged for the company. In fact, there is no other person, we think, who could take on this role at this time. To our great relief, he is prepared to accept this challenge. We have spoken with Andrei's family and they are in agreement with our decision. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present to you the new interim CEO of Fishbowl – Chris Hamer.'

The journalists watched in silence as Chris stood and came out from behind the table. Robert Leib shook his hand and held out the microphone. Chris took it and waited for Leib to take a seat.

‘Thank you, Bob. I'd like to second everything Bob said. First, to Sergei, Anna, Dina, Leo and Sandy, we feel your pain. I'd like to also thank the millions and millions of Fishbowl users who have posted tributes to Andrei on School pages, in the Grotto, on
blogs, and in all kinds of places. I know that this has been a comfort to Andrei's family and to all of us here at Fishbowl in Palo Alto and in our other offices.

‘The Indians of the Amazon …' Chris stopped, choking up, and took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. ‘I'm sorry.' He cleared his throat. ‘The Indians of the Amazon … have a tradition that when a great chief dies each person in the tribe brings a flower, a fruit, something, and places it at the foot of a tree. That tree takes on the spiritual aura of the dead man, and by placing their offerings there each person in the tribe pays respect to his spirit. The outpouring of love for Andrei is like those offerings. Fishbowl grew rapidly from small beginnings and, in many ways, despite its size, it's like a tribe. We've lost our leader, our guide, our big brother. We're grieving.' He paused and glanced at Jenn McGrealy, who nodded, wiping a tear from her eye.

‘But we have to go on. Fishbowl is a part of the lives of a quarter of the people on this planet. That's a testament to the tribe Andrei built, and he would be the last person to say that it should stop, even for a day, even for an hour, even for a minute, because he's gone. Andrei gave us Deep Connectedness. He invented Deep Connectedness. Deep Connectedness never stops. Like the Amazon, it is broad as well as deep, and it flows on.

‘How do we go on? How do we do it? Two days ago we had our IPO, and now the man who brought us to this point, the man who for eight years led and built this awesome company, is gone. In the blink of an eye. When Bob asked me, on behalf of the board and Andrei's family, if I would consider taking on the role of CEO, my first reaction was “no”. Not even for an interim period. It wasn't because I didn't know the company. I first met Andrei when I invested in Fishbowl seven years ago, but I think it's fair to say that I was always more than an investor. We worked closely on all the big decisions that Andrei made and particularly on the development of the IAP. Andrei used to say I was the
éminence grise
of the company. He actually put that on my business card.' Chris waited as a few people smiled. ‘Yeah,
that's what he was like. Who am I to try to fill those shoes? I don't know anyone who could. But Bob asked me, as the person who has been closest to Andrei in developing the business over the last seven years, to reconsider, and so I did. I was humbled and deeply honoured by the request. I came to the conclusion that I couldn't refuse. But I can't do it alone. Andrei, as you know, was both chairman of the board and CEO. Bob has agreed to serve as chairman …' he paused and glanced at Bob, who nodded gravely ‘… and will work closely with me. Bob has enormous experience as an investor in the tech industry, and worked particularly closely with Andrei and me in the year leading up to the IPO, so I can't think of a better person to give guidance in these difficult times. Andrei leaves huge boots to fill and I don't pretend that I'll be able to fill them, but together with Bob I'll do my best to guide the company over the coming weeks and months as we search for … not Andrei's replacement, because there is no one who could replace him, but someone who can step into the role of CEO. In the meantime, until we find that person, I'll serve for as long as needed. Andrei's spirit is with us and I'll take inspiration from that.

‘So? What of the immediate future? Jenn McGrealy will continue to run the day-to-day operations of the company as she has done so awesomely for the past five years. My role is to do everything I can to make sure Andrei's vision is fulfilled. Andrei's vision for Fishbowl was unwavering, and I will be guided by my understanding of where he saw the company going in this new phase of growth that has started with our IPO. Fortunately, I was able to hear him articulate his vision just before he was taken from us. As many of you know, I was with Andrei at the time he was shot down. I was the last person he spoke to. We'd just had lunch at Yao's …' Chris frowned, swallowing hard. ‘Excuse me. Just give me a second … OK … We'd just had lunch at Yao's, which was Andrei's favourite restaurant. In the early days of Fishbowl we'd often go there and some … some of the most important moments in Fishbowl's history, some of its most
important decisions, happened there. On the day after Fishbowl's IPO, when Andrei had so much reason to celebrate and so much to look forward to, he asked me to go with him again to have one of those conversations like we used to have in the old days.'

Chris paused.

‘I have exciting news. Andrei had made a big decision. He had decided to roll out the licensing of the IAP – or Farming, as it's sometimes called – on a wide scale. It's time to commercialize it. His vision – an extraordinary vision, a challenging vision – was of a world in which every advertiser on every site right across the net would be using the connectedness offered by Fishbowl's IAP. He asked me what I thought of that. I told him I thought it was bold, visionary, inspirational. I was a little more cautious about our ability to achieve it, but Andrei was adamant. He said we could. Not only that, he said we had to do it. This was what Fishbowl was meant to do. This was what the IPO was for.

‘The first eight years had given us the ability to have that vision – our job in the next few years was to make it come true. We talked about it for a long time. I don't think I have ever seen Andrei more excited, more energized, or more certain that he was right. It was truly inspiring. I wish all of you could have heard it as well. He told me that he had one big ambition for Fishbowl. We were the first company to IPO at two hundred billion dollars – he wanted us to be the first to reach a trillion in value. He believed that licensing of the IAP for advertising across the internet would achieve that. And I believe he was right. We've got a head start over all our competitors. If we get going right now, if we use that head start, I don't think anything can stand in our way. So that's what we're going to do – start right now. And I believe we will get to where Andrei saw us getting. I believe we will be that trillion-dollar company, and probably quicker than he imagined. And when we do, that will be our monument to him, a fitting monument to everything he achieved.'

He glanced at Jenn and Bob, who both nodded emphatically.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the world of cyberspace is changing, and with it the rest of our world is changing as well. No one
person can take the credit for this alone, but when history looks back, if there has been one dominant figure in the past decade, it will be seen to be Andrei Koss. He never made any apology for being in the vanguard. Andrei's gone, but his work continues.

‘Since our IPO only two days ago, Fishbowl has seen another three million people sign up. Already, we have a quarter of the people on this planet. They live their lives in Fishbowl, the Fishbowl that we built over the past eight years.' Chris paused and looked up, as if the ghost of Andrei Koss was hovering above him. A slight smile played at his lips. ‘Here's my pledge, Andrei – one day, the rest of the world will, too.'