Trading Reality (17 page)

‘The police mentioned it. It’s a strange name, isn’t it?’

‘It’s from Aldous Huxley’s
Brave New World.
In the book, the government controls the proles through the “feelies”, a kind of virtual reality.’

I could vaguely remember reading the book with its warped view of Utopia. ‘And BOWL thinks VR could be used in that way today?’

‘That’s it.’

‘It’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

‘A wee bit,’ Rachel admitted. ‘But for a while now, some quite respected academics have been worried about the effects that modern technology is having on society. You know – children spending their lives playing computer games, sex and violence on TV, that kind of thing. I think BOWL see themselves as anticipating the effects of future technology on all of us.’

‘And Doogie joined this mob?’

‘Ah ha. And he did it in secret. He passed information to them about what we were working on at FairSystems. Doogie was never very stable emotionally, he was working very hard, and he seemed more and more unbalanced. Some of his work became unreliable. I don’t know whether he made mistakes on purpose, or whether he was just falling apart.

‘Richard was sympathetic at first, and tried to ease the pressure on him. They had known each other for a long time. But then he discovered that Doogie was passing on confidential information to BOWL. He went apeshit. I’ve never seen him so angry. You know how patient and controlled he normally was. I suppose he didn’t like the betrayal. Anyway, he and Doogie had a huge row, Doogie walked out, and they were bitter enemies from then on.’

‘When was all this?’

‘Oh, about a year ago.’

‘And what’s Doogie been doing since then?’

‘He’s put everything into BOWL. He’s become obsessed with the evils of virtual reality, and he picks on FairSystems in particular. Over the last few months, he’s led a radical wing of BOWL to more violent forms of protest. We were sent letter bombs. So were a couple of other VR companies. We never proved it was Doogie, but both we and the police knew it was him. He also tried to crack our computer system.’

‘Is he dangerous?’ I asked. ‘I mean, would he do something really violent?’

‘You never know with Doogie. I used to like him. He believed in something, you know. But, yes, I think he could.’

‘Do you think he might have killed Richard?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Rachel, shaking her head. ‘Maybe. He certainly hated him.’

I pondered that for a moment.

‘What about that note?’

‘Well, it must be blackmail. But he was wasting his time. Richard would never have given in to it.’

I was sure she was right. But there was still something I didn’t understand about the note. ‘How do you think Doogie got a copy of the letter in the first place? It should have been safe in Willie’s files.’

Rachel frowned. ‘I don’t know. I know he’s got hold of sensitive information from FairSystems before, but I thought he did that by breaking into our computers remotely. You know, over the telephone wires. We’ve tightened our computer security as a result, and I would hope he can no longer get in. Besides, this letter would only have been in hard-copy form, there would be no reason for it to be stored in our computer system. No, either someone gave it to him, or he found some way of physically breaking into the factory.’

‘Well, let’s talk to him.’

‘Doogie?’

‘Yes. Do you know where he lives?’

‘In a flat in Edinburgh.’

‘Good. Let’s go and see him tomorrow morning.’

Rachel drove me into Glenrothes that afternoon. I still felt weak from the shock of the fire, and my back ached like hell. But I had promised to see Sorenson, so see him I would.

He was in Richard’s office. He offered me a chair, and asked Susan, Richard’s secretary, to bring us a cup of tea.

‘I heard about the fire,’ Sorenson said. ‘I also heard you almost got yourself killed. How’s the hand?’

‘It hurts,’ I said. ‘But it will heal.’

‘Have the police any idea who did it?’

‘Maybe. They found a note to Richard from Doogie Fisher. It mentioned the accident in California. He said he would tell the press about it unless FairSystems withdrew VR from the public.’

‘Really?’ said Sorenson. ‘Doogie Fisher was the crazy who used to work here, wasn’t he? The guy who joined that bunch of weirdo technology-haters.’

‘That’s right. Did you know him?’

‘No. I became chairman after he had left. But I’ve heard people around here talk about him. There was that letter bomb that was sent here a few months ago. They never found out who sent it, but Doogie Fisher was everyone’s favourite.’

‘Well, I think he’s Inspector Kerr’s favourite for starting the fire.’

‘Does that mean they think he might have murdered Richard?’

I sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ I rubbed my eyes with my hands. I was too tired to think that through. Richard’s death, FairSystems, the fire. They were all a whirl. I needed time to let them settle in my mind.

‘You look about all in,’ said Sorenson.

I straightened up and smiled feebly. ‘I’m OK.’

‘Well, I hope they clear it up soon. The sooner the uncertainty ends, the better. I‘ve told David and Rachel to make sure that everyone co-operates with the police on this.’

He slurped his tea. The dainty cup looked out of place in his big hands.

‘I spoke to your father last night. I guess you two can’t agree on what to do with the company?’

I wrenched my mind back to FairSystems and its future. ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘I want to sell, he wants to keep it.’

‘May I make a suggestion?’

I nodded.

‘Let’s hold off selling the company right now. We still have time. We know we should be able to make it through till September. Who knows, we might get more contracts in the Fall. Apparently, Richard thought there was a chance Jenson Computer might come through with some big orders towards the end of the year. The shares are only at four and a half. Too low to sell. Let’s just keep going for a couple of months, stabilise the company, and then see where we are. If nothing else, we’ll probably get a better price.’

I looked at him doubtfully.

‘Look, we probably will end up selling after all,’ he continued reasonably, ‘but I think we deserve to give the company a chance as an independent entity.’

I was wavering. Sorenson could see it. ‘Of course there is the management issue,’ he said. ‘Rachel and David don’t exactly get on. It doesn’t make for the sort of decisive management we need.

‘So, I’ve been thinking. How would you like to be acting managing director? Just for three months. After that, either we sell the company, or we hire someone permanent.’

‘Me?’ I was stunned. ‘I can’t do it. FairSystems is a public company. I’ve never managed any company, let alone a public one.’

‘I think you can do it. I was impressed yesterday by your ability to pick up what’s happening around here so fast. You’re young, you’ve got initiative, and you can take decisions. Most of the successful small technology companies I’ve seen are run by men under thirty. A middle-aged professional manager would stop this company dead in its tracks. We need someone who can take risks, and you can.’

‘But I know nothing about the technology,’ I protested.

‘Then find out. Your father says you have a good mathematical brain; as good as Richard’s. Use it. Besides, the place is full of people who know the technology.’

It was true, I had excelled at maths at school. But I hadn’t wanted to follow my father and elder brother into mathematics and the sciences, so I had concentrated on history instead, to my father’s great disappointment.

‘What does he think about the idea?’

‘Your father? He thinks it’s a good one,’ said Sorenson. ‘I guess he likes the idea of you looking after Richard’s company. Seeing it through for him. And he trusts you.’

I thought about Sorenson’s offer. It did have some logic to it. But I still had my doubts.

‘Let me tell you about another company I was involved with a few years ago,’ Sorenson continued. ‘Melbourn Technology, a British company based near Cambridge. They made security devices for mobile phones, which prevented eavesdropping on sensitive conversations. The technology was world-class, and the potential market was huge, and growing. But the company was losing money, it had run out of cash, and its venture-capital backers were losing patience. So, they called me in.

‘Well, the founder of the company was a highly intelligent fellow, great with the technology, and he wasn’t a bad businessman. But he was too cautious, he didn’t have the guts to make the big changes required. So I brought in a thirty-year-old I knew from the cellular telephony business in California. He knew nothing about the technology, and he had never run a company before, but he knew the market, and I knew he had what it takes. The venture capitalists raised their eyebrows, but since the company couldn’t get any worse, they had nothing more to lose.

‘Anyway, this guy opened up a marketing operation in the US, moved manufacturing to Singapore, and within three years had floated the company on NASDAQ at a valuation of a hundred million dollars.’ He smiled at me. ‘So, you see, it can be done.’

My pulse was racing. There was no doubt that I was excited by the idea of running FairSystems, and Sorenson’s support gave me enormous encouragement. But I needed time to think it over. And there was the question of getting time off work.

‘Can I think about it?’

‘Sure,’ said Sorenson. ‘But think quickly. Let me know by Friday. There’s a board meeting next Monday, and I’d like to be able to confirm you as acting MD there. I’ll stay here to mind the store till then.’

I parked the BMW in a quiet street in Tollcross, a scruffy residential area of Edinburgh to the south of the castle. The car was standard Harrison Brothers issue, fine amongst the leafy streets of west London, but a mild embarrassment elsewhere. A group of students walked up the road chatting and laughing. I knew the area vaguely. Richard had rented a room round here for a couple of years when he was at the university.

Rachel led me up to a large grey tenement building. We entered the narrow hallway, dodged a bike, and climbed the stairs. Three floors up, we came to a door with ‘D. Fisher’ printed on a scrap of paper taped underneath a bell. She pressed it.

Doogie opened the door. He was thin, and wiry, the muscles of his bare arms clearly defined. An indecipherable tattoo peaked out from underneath the sleeve of his plain white T-shirt. His light brown hair was cut very short, and his face was lined. Dark brown eyes blazed out of deep sockets, blackened by lack of sleep.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ His voice was loud, clear and Scottish.

‘We’ve just come to say hello,’ said Rachel.

The eyes looked me over.

‘Who’s this guy?’ he demanded.

Rachel stepped into the flat. ‘This is Mark Fairfax, Richard’s brother. He’s FairSystems’ new MD.’

I was taken aback for a moment by this description of myself. Sorenson must have already told Rachel about his proposal.

‘What did you bring him for?’ Doogie didn’t sound pleased to see me.

‘He wants to talk to you.’

‘Well, I don’t want to talk to him. I’ve had enough of talking to people. I spent two hours with the police yesterday.’

‘I’m here to ask you about the note you sent my brother,’ I said.

‘Why? You’ve read it, haven’t you?’

‘Doogie, I know you’re a member of BOWL. And I know you have strong views on virtual reality. I’ve come here to find out what they are.’

Doogie looked me up and down suspiciously.

‘So, will you talk to me?’

Doogie hesitated a moment longer. Then he nodded. He could see I was serious. ‘OK. Sit down.’ He pointed to an old brown sofa. The flat was basic and spartan. Cheap, soulless furniture. The walls were adorned with posters, ‘Stop the Poll Tax’, ‘Save Steel in Scotland’, ‘Fight the Fascists’. A mantelpiece framed a blocked-up fireplace. On it was a single photograph of a dour squat middle-aged man with a stick, and his thin anxious wife. Next to it, a desk faced a blank wall. It was the only part of the room that looked inhabited: a computer, papers, two coffee mugs.

‘I thought you didn’t approve of those,’ I said, nodding towards the machine.

‘I don’t,’ said Doogie. ‘But in this war, you need to understand the enemy and have access to his weapons. That box has done good service.’

There was a tapping of paws on lino, and a squat, powerfully muscled, brindled dog strolled into the room. It was some kind of mongrel. A tongue lolled out of its jaws, which seemed to be too big for the rest of its body. It saw me, and trotted over. I kept perfectly still, hoping that Doogie would call it off. The dog sniffed Rachel’s ankles and then mine.

‘Come here, Hannibal,’ growled Doogie. The dog pulled away and leaned against his master’s legs, panting softly.

I relaxed a little, but kept an eye on the animal just in case. ‘So. Tell me why FairSystems should prevent the public from gaining access to our machines?’

Doogie gave me a quick glance, trying to decide whether my interest was genuine. It was. I wanted to know BOWL’s point of view. If only to know what made Doogie tick.

‘Virtual reality is dangerous,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit like nuclear fission. It’s a major scientific breakthrough made by people who believe it will do good for mankind. But it has the potential to do tremendous harm. We can’t uninvent nuclear power, but so far we have just about managed to control it. We need to do a better job of controlling virtual reality.’

‘But what’s wrong with VR? It doesn’t kill people. It has all sorts of positive uses.’

‘Doesn’t kill people?’ snorted Doogie. ‘What about that kid on the motorbike?’

‘You know what I mean,’ I said.

Doogie’s eyes flicked at mine again, but he could tell my curiosity was real.