Einsteiner

by V. K. Fourstone

  When the friends got back from London, they suddenly found themselves at a big party. True to his style, Wolanski arranged another surprise. Although he had not planned on returning home before he received his inheritance, he came back after all and organized a party for his own birthday. There were lots of people at the villa and the guests drank and made merry to good music. Isaac and Bikie were pleasantly surprised – Peter had turned out to be less cautious than they thought at first.

  Their host greeted them like old friends. Isaac apologized because they didn’t have a present, adding that they simply hadn’t been expecting to see Peter here and they wouldn’t like to cause him any trouble.

  “No problem but I do have a present for you. You’ll see it later,” Peter said with a mysterious smile. “I thought about the security aspect and it’s fine, I’m not taking any risks. Formally speaking there’s a month or a month and a half left until I get my inheritance – or a couple of weeks, if I’m lucky. I decided to celebrate my birthday, even though you are living here. To be honest, after Amsterdam, I miss our little group more and more. I didn’t feel like celebrating without you so I decided to come back, get a few friends over and hold a party. Go change and join in.”

  The guys dumped their things, took a quick shower and joined the other guests, who gathered around the pool. A zany old DJ was playing music, which sounded different from the modern stuff. It was obviously the choice of a veteran of the underground, not some disc from Collective Mind music label. It was like Isaac’s good old student days, apart from the fact that the party was happening at a super-cool villa.

  Isaac scanned the guests. An interesting crowd mostly from rich families with none of the Veggies. People who had enough money for the good life were in no hurry to sell their creativity although lots of people who used to be rich had gone bust together with their companies when they couldn’t compete with Einsteiner.

  There were a lot of beautiful girls, all dressed very elegantly, not flashily. All were sleek, well-groomed, with lovely slim figures.

  Maybe they weren’t big fans of all the latest innovations, but they definitely used the new generation of creams and other personal care products.

  Isaac sipped champagne out of a fancy glass, enjoying himself as he strolled among these representatives of high society. He met a well-known TV presenter, a few girls who were famous models, and Peter and Sandrine were sitting right there, surrounded by their friends. When Peter spotted Isaac, he started making gestures that were hard to understand. Isaac eventually realized that Peter was pointing out someone sitting over to one side, behind the DJ’s console. Isaac set off in the direction indicated, but he couldn’t make out who was there through the flashing of the light organ. When he got closer, he realized what the “present” was that Peter set up for him. He had invited Michelle Blanche.

  Isaac was totally delighted. If only there were more Peters in this life! He turned back towards the birthday boy’s table and gave him a big thumbs-up sign! Peter smiled and replied with the same gesture.

  Michelle was very beautiful with her hair gathered into a simple ponytail, the minimum of makeup and just a touch of lipstick on her plump lips. Small earrings with no watch or bracelets. The modest, short little black dress exposed her sharp little knees. Her outfit was completed by lacquered sandals with high heels. Everything seemingly so restrained, but she looked stunning.

  “Hi, Michelle! It seems that this semi-darkness adds some mystique to your beauty, mind if I join you?” Having drunk a glass of champagne after his journey, Isaac was in exactly the right condition – not yet drunk, but already feeling confident.

  “Hi there! No, I don’t. How are you getting on, Isaac?” Michelle moved from the center of the sofa to one side, so that Isaac could sit down.

  “I’m good. Everything’s going fine,” Isaac said and kissed the girl on both cheeks. He pointed to Michelle’s almost empty glass. “Maybe I could bring you another juice?”

  “Yes please, only instead of juice, bring me a Bellini.”

  “How about I bring you a different cocktail? You’ll like it. It’s based on champagne too. I’m an ex-barman after all, and I have cocktails that I invented myself.”

  “Alright, but only if it’s not too strong.”

  “Well, they are just a little bit strong, but one or two won’t cause any problems.”

  Isaac came back carrying two at once: one was of a bright golden color and the other hand a bronze shimmer to it.

  Michelle tried the golden one first.

  “Whoa, that tastes good! What’s in it? Wait, let me guess… Champagne, that’s clear enough. Something orangey and maybe something with coffee?” she added, and then sniffed the second glass: “And this one smells of coconut.”

  “I won’t tell you the ingredients, or you won’t drink it! But you’ve guessed most of the smells,” said Isaac, smiling. He was dying to boast about the recipe he had invented, but restrained himself. “I’ll tell you, but first let’s see if you can figure it out yourself.”

  “Well, the coconut flavor is clear enough. It’s Malibu. I’ll have another think about the rest. So you don’t just invent cunning little devices, but cocktails as well?” Michelle asked with a disarming smile.

  “How do you know that I’m an inventor?”

  “Peter told me. He said he had a pair of interesting characters living at his place, talented inventors. He said one them was an avid biker, and I’d seen the other one a couple of times. It was obviously you he meant.”

  Isaac flushed with embarrassment and pleasure. It was a good thing Peter hadn’t introduced them as caretakers keeping an eye on his house.

  “Yes, I’m an inventor.” That had a proud ring, and Isaac thrust out his chest. “And what do you do?”

  “I wanted to be a designer. I was pretty good at it, and I developed a few fairly promising concepts. Unfortunately it didn’t grow into a business; it’s more of a hobby.”

  “Why?”

  “Einsteiner. They turn out excellent design concepts for quite low prices. It’s hard to compete with them. It’s possible, but the market has slumped badly. There’s no financial motivation. It would be more accurate just to say I do creative work.”

  “That’s not so very terrible for you; after all you’re fairly…”

  “Rich?”

  “Well, yes. Well-fixed, you don’t need money all that badly.”

  “Not strictly for financial reasons, no, but when your ideas die without ever being born, it’s painful. I want to show what I can do. Show that I’m not just…”

  “Devastatingly beautiful,” Isaac put in.

  “Thank you. To show that I’m not just another pretty face. Apart from a diploma in design I got top marks in many exact sciences.”

  “Oh! Heavy! I remember you have a high creativity quotient, but exact sciences – that’s even heavier.”

  “But how do you know Peter? Quite an unusual person you are. Peter is no fool either, your friend is an inventor, and so are you. You came bouncing up to me that time with some kind of slogans. You surrounded yourself with creative people. Have you got a special nose for them?”

  “Something like that. People like that fascinate me.”

  Narrowing her lids, Michelle examined Isaac, finished her cocktail, put the glass down on the table and said in an affectedly stern voice:

  “Now, tell me what you’ve dosed me with…some kind of love potion?”

  “Almost. Unfortunately it’s just Brut champagne with Malibu and Cointreau in it.”

  “Delicious. Champagne and liqueurs. You villain! And what is it called?”

  “Lucky Blonde.”

  “Ohhhh, is your girlfriend a blonde?”

  “No, no,” he protested. “I haven’t got a girlfriend, it’s just a name. I thought it sounded nice!” he said, deciding not to mention that he really had named the cocktail in honor of Anna, his undivided university love. Her name on Instagram was luckyblonde, so he chose it as th
e title of his creation.

  “You’re lying. Even in the dark I can see that you just lied. So you’re a romantic too?” Isaac’s cocktail tasted great, it had a nice color, and besides all that it went straight to your head from the very first glass. Michelle was no exception, she was joking and smiling.

  “And the second one,” said Isaac, primly deciding to change the subject, “is called ‘Star Bridge’. It’s champagne too, with Amaretto and Grand Marnier. Like a bridge to the stars. Those ones up there,” he said pointing to the sky.

  Michelle looked up too, at the pure black sky, spangled with bright stars.

  It wasn’t cold at all, but Isaac shivered, moved closer to Michelle and took hold of her hand. She didn’t object, on the contrary, she put her head on his shoulder.

  Everything was going so well, but then up walked Bikie and Peter, two moment killers.

  “Damn you to hell, Bikie, can’t you guys see you’ve picked the wrong moment?” thought Isaac. But the moment had been lost. Bikie had lugged over four glasses of champagne.

  “I want to propose a toast to Peter. He’s a true character! Alive and natural, not some kind of a fake. You are young, and you’re only just at the beginning of your road, so don’t turn off it! Happy Birthday, as they say. Happy in the good sense of the word! Dammit, what a fine word they’ve ruined!” Bikie screwed up his face theatrically and everyone laughed.

  “To Peter!” Michelle joined in, getting to her feet.

  “To Peter!” Bikie roared, after switching off the sound on the DJ’s console.

  “To Peter!” voices echoed on all sides, alternating with the clinking of glasses.

  Sandrine came over and took the birthday boy away to dance. Bikie set off to get another glass and Isaac and Michelle were left alone together again.

  “Would you like me to show you my main invention?” Isaac suggested.

  “Yes, do.”

  Isaac went to his room and came back down with the V-Rain.

  “A very stylish little instrument. I tell you that as a professional designer.” Her words were sweet music to Isaac’s ears.

  “The design’s actually not the most important thing. Press this button here when it’s raining, and not a drop will fall on you. It’s like you’re under a dome.”

  “Oh, wow! Great! I’ve never seen anything like that before. That’s a really useful item for someone in an evening dress with a fancy hairstyle,” said Michelle, impressed. “I could use one of those.”

  “That’s not all,” said Isaac, glad that his invention had been appreciated, and moreover, by a girl he liked so much. “You can use it in all sorts of other places, as a personal umbrella or as a public one. You can keep the rain off restaurant terraces, or even have an exhibition of watercolors out in the street. The patent has been registered.”

  “I see you really are an inventor. Peter wasn’t exaggerating. Good for you! You are an interesting guy. Did you drop that glass at my feet deliberately that time?”

  “No, by accident, sorry.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can believe you. Every time I see you, you pull some really offbeat stunt.”

  “That’s the effect you have on me. I get dizzy and glasses start falling.”

  Michelle put her arm on Isaac’s shoulders. Isaac tried to kiss her but Michelle pulled away.

  “I’m a strait laced girl, not so fast. You’re too quick off the mark!” said Michelle, smiling.

  Isaac couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. He could see she thought he was cute and found him interesting. But he couldn’t figure out if he should try to kiss her again or if it was better not to. Probably better not to, he could spoil everything. And today he could get to know her better. The party was in full swing, no one was getting ready to leave yet.

  These sober thoughts didn’t linger in his head for long. A few minutes later he did kiss her after all, and this time she didn’t draw back.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning was a hot one, with the principality scorching with sunshine. At his old place in weather like this, Isaac would literally have been gasping for breath, and he preferred to go early to the bar where strong air conditioners buzzed quietly and it was relatively cool. But that problem was behind him now. At the Wolanski villa it was great. Squeezed in between cliffs on both sides it was always slightly in the shade, and in addition there was always a breeze blowing in this little gap, even on a completely windless day.

  The electric cleaners hummed away steadily outside, tidying up after the party. Isaac and Bikie, in an excellent mood, had sat themselves in the living room and were studying in more detail the photographs they had managed to get hold of at Link University.

  Isaac noticed that in some of the photos Link looked rather odd by modern standards. An American would have called his appearance “old-fashioned”, and an Englishman would have called it “classic”. In some of the photos Link was holding a cigar.

  “Look, Bikie, in this photo here and here too. Link smoked and he smoked cigars. Smoking has already been conquered, right?”

  “That’s right, it has,” replied Bikie. “I got cured myself; I never thought it would be so easy. I don’t feel the slightest desire to smoke, in fact it disgusts me. Although there are some rich old farts that still suck on their cigars and pipes.”

  “And Link smokes! Maybe he still smokes now. It doesn’t look like our stubborn Link changed his habits of many years. That could be our lead. It is cretins like that, who think cigars aren’t really all that harmful, who keep the remaining Cuban factories in business. Let’s see what we can dig up on the subject.”

  Isaac remembered the jubilation at the final victory over nicotine addiction. For three hundred years smoking had been a problem for ordinary people and a source of big money for the tobacco industry. Einsteiner screwed the influential tobacco lobby by releasing a drug that cured nicotine addiction, both physical and psychological, with just two tablets. In a flawless marketing move, the Agency handed out the medication absolutely free, exchanging two tablets for a single cigarette of any brand. The tobacco conglomerates were crushed like pitiful worms; they went bankrupt in just a few weeks. The tablets flew off the shelves like hot cakes; people gathered in parks and burned their cigarettes together. There aren’t very many ideas that can unite the entire world in a single impulse, but cigarettes were burned in parks from America to China.

  The day they started handing out the free tablets was a global holiday, a celebration of independence. Independence from nicotine which used to take a million human lives a year. People lost millions on their tobacco shares, some even committed suicide but no one felt sorry for them. The hands of the tobacco company owners might not be bloodstained in the literal sense, but figuratively speaking they were dripping with gore.

  Anyone that still wanted to smoke could only find a tobacco shop in the very biggest cities, or they ordered the old-fashioned poison on the internet. Cigarettes already cost almost as much as cigars, their price rocketed as sales plummeted. A month later the Agency spectacularly bolstered its influence by releasing a cheap remedy for cancer.

  In those two months the popularity of donating creativity soared sky-high and more followed when Einsteiner struck a blow at drugs. This time the Agency didn’t forget its own interests – the drug-dealers and pushers were “downloaded” compulsorily, as criminals. Drug addiction had also been defeated, this applied to every kind of illegal highs apart from weed. The arguments about that were still going on but way things were headed, it was going to be declared a drug. The last bastions of legal marijuana, Amsterdam and Los Angeles were losing the battle.

  So, smoking had been conquered. Only a few smokers were left, mostly rich people and members of the older generation. They were too old to listen to the warnings about how bad you smoking was for you and too arrogant to give up their beloved habit of puffing on a pipe or pulling at a cigar for any reason at all. For people like that, smoking a cigar was a matter of indiv
idual style, a hobby and a part of their life. There was a chance that the retrograde Link was like that too. Everything seemed to suggest it. Like many geniuses, he was not very particular about his appearance, and grayish white traces of ash could be seen on his trousers and the sleeves of his jacket. The cigars also turned in his photos a few times. The tobacco industry was at its last gasp but still working for people like Link.

  Bikie came up with the idea of digging through the lists of clients on the servers of tobacco shops near the university. He asked Isaac not to bother him.

  “I like to socialize and I get distracted when there’s someone else with me,” he explained. “So when I’m working, I’m a loner.”

  Isaac did not object since he was sorting out the patent documents. The important thing now was not to sell too cheap. Wolanski’s idea of using the V-Rain on the open verandas of restaurants added a good two million to the price, if not more. And he went to visit Vicky in the hospital: he wanted to see her all the time now. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t. Neither could she hear. His relation with Michelle didn’t make him forget that feeling he had had for Vicky.

  Working on his new approach Bikie collected the addresses of tobacco sellers who turned out to have been a lot more numerous in Link’s time. First of all he excluded the shops that were too far away, and then he picked out the ones that sold expensive cigars and worked around the clock. He broke into their databases with no problem and to start with he focused on a tobacco shop that was located only a short distance from the university campus they had just come back from.

  “We know when Link was in England. We know when he started giving his lectures or when he went away to conferences. I’ve highlighted the relevant dates. If he paid for cigars with his card, we’ll see its number on those days,” Bikie explained to Isaac.

  Sales at the little cigar shop were pretty sparse, on some days no one bought a single one. “Good kids,” Bikie growled, “smoking is bad for you.” There was a time when he was a heavy smoker himself and he had ignored all the warnings. It was hard to imagine how many cigarettes he would already have smoked sitting there like that and working on his puzzle. Now even during an intensive search he never even thought of smoking….but coffee was a different thing.