Chương 29: Book 2 - Chapter 5 B

I had the attention of everyone at the table. It was time to negotiate. I looked Blake straight in the eye.

"How does having my software keep you from going under in the next two months?"

"I can get Civilization into RadioShack for Christmas. I've got a friend who works at Tandy. That's 3, 000 stores across the country." I shook my head no.

"It's not enough, that won't get you the cash you need to keep running fast enough. How about this: I buy 25% of the company. We get a valuation done, and I give you cash for it, to keep the doors open. Then we sign a contract, and you get first right of refusal for everything I write and exclusive distribution for everything you take."

"What kind of licensing terms are you thinking?"

"I want fifty percent of the gross on all sales of my software."

"I can't do that. Thirty percent of retail sales is the best I can do."

"I can accept that, and no advance is necessary." I set out copies of each piece of software on the conference table. I grouped them by system: Apple, Macintosh, IBM and a single floppy by itself.

"What's that one?" Blake asked.

"That's my IBM compatible Object Pascal compiler. At least it's supposed to be. I wrote it in assembly code but I haven't tested it out."

"Where did you write it?"

"On my Macintosh." He laughed at the irony.

"Well, let's go try it out." We went back to their computer area, it was several long tables against a wall. The space was filled with computers and comfy chairs. He had me sit down in front of an IBM compatible machine. I turned it on, loaded the disk, and ran the command. I had two error messages. It didn't run. I looked at Blake.

"Can I use your Mac? I also need my assembly editor for Macs," I asked.

"Sure," he said. One of the people watching went back to the conference room to collect the software. He yelled after him, "Bring back all the software. We will test everything." With my Mac program in hand I rolled my chair one spot over, where a Mac was sitting on the table. I quickly located the two bugs in the code and fixed them, then saved the changes. When I tried to run the program this time, it came up immediately.

"It's working this time," I announced. I selected the menu to write code, and typed a few lines. Then I hit the compile button, and it finished quickly.

"Wow, that was fast," I commented.

"That's the difference between 640k of memory and the Mac with its 128," he said. I ran the program and 'Hello World!' bounced randomly around the screen.

"That's impressive," Blake said.

"Getting that motion from just a few lines of code." I gave him a brief rundown of the commands available and offered to print the manual.

"Printer's connected. Let me make sure the thing is on," he said getting up. When it was on, I selected print manual from the help menu. It asked if I was sure because it was a hundred and fifty pages. I got Blake's okay and selected print. I spun around.

"So, Mr Sanders," I said to Blake, "What will it take to finalize our deal?"

"Your Tulsa law firm said you were interested in seeing our balance sheet?"

"Yes. Despite my age, I have access to considerable funds, and I was originally prepared to make an offer for the whole company."

"Well, let's have you look at our balance sheet." I reviewed the corporate finances, finding some debt but not a lot. There biggest expense was mostly computer hardware. The problem was they had equipment, people and the leased facility, but not enough income. They just hadn't had the success to really pay for it all yet, and Blake was running out of money to keep it afloat. One big hit would either give them the cash they needed or the name recognition.

With name recognition an investor could keep them going until the smaller software became profitable. Or they finally had a hit game.

"Based on what I've seen, I think I'll accept your offer," I told Blake.

"It's not going to be immediate, and I have some packaging ideas I want to discuss. But first, I need to find a local law firm."

"I'm going to want a few stipulations," Blake said.

"One is that we both have first right of refusal to the other's portion of the company."

"As long as that stipulation includes our heirs, that's a great idea," I told him.

"Two. I stay CEO."

"Of course. I'm eight. Why would I want a job? I'm happy enough getting to start college next month. I just wanted to find someone to publish my software." Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"We will publish all right. My friend at Tandy is the company CEO. I can guarantee that 'Civilization' will be in every RadioShack for Christmas."

"Then I think we have the basics set," I said, shaking his hand. We wandered back out to the computer area to find Matt talking about how he learned to type on Alphabet Invasion and how he helped design the math tutoring program. I listened for a bit, then got his attention.

"Time to go, boss?" he asked.

"Yeah, let's head back and get an early dinner," I told him.

"Hey, wait a minute!" someone called out. I stopped, recognizing his voice as the one who had stormed off.

"This Object Pascal, it's an object-oriented programming language, right?"

"Yes. It has built in debugging and an integrated development environment. I included some abilities from C that were missing in Pascal, and the compiler also has the ability to incorporate some assembly code into its programming. I'm at version three with it, I keep adding features as I find I need them."

"At any University that would be PhD level work."

"I'll start at the University of Tulsa in a few weeks."

"But this is a huge accomplishment," he said.

"I didn't have the tools I needed, so I made them. That's what humans do. It's what makes us different from the animals." He gave me a furrowed look.

"How many hours did this take?"

"I didn't have anything else to do, so it's about all I did during my summer vacation."

"But why Pascal? Why not Basic or C or Fortran?"

"I got the books from the library. I was looking for books about Blaise Pascal, a mathematical hero of mine. Once I saw they were about programming, I got them anyway. They explained the language and syntax, though there seemed to be variations, and then I got more programming books. I live only two blocks from the library." That seemed to satisfy him in a bemused sort of acceptance.

"Here is my card. I went to the University of Texas and our Computer Science program is nationally respected. Because of the influence of Texas Instruments were are the top University for Computer Science. If your University doesn't have a computer science program you should apply to us for a master's in Computer Science, at least!"

"Thanks for the offer," I replied, then headed out for dinner. Wednesday started nice, but it was predicted to be hot again—not quite a hundred degrees. After breakfast I gathered the paperwork I needed for the lawyer. It was a 45-minute drive to the law office in Dallas, as Matt hit traffic. We had to park at a nearby parking garage, and walk. The heat was already stifling. The ARCO Tower was just another soulless glass box. Its triangular pretension did nothing for me, unlike the old hotels we were buying.

I checked in at the lobby, and the firm gave me to their loveliest and lowest-totem-pole lawyer.

"Hi, I'm John Cook, your ten o'clock appointment," I said reaching out for a handshake.

"I'm Jennifer Parz. Why don't you come to my office and we will discuss what you need from us," she said, playing it cool, even though she was ready to rip somebody apart for the prank.

"The big guy is my mobile guardian, Matt," I told her as we sat. They shook hands briefly.

"What do you mean mobile guardian?" Jennifer asked.

"Matt here is my trained bodyguard and driver. He's paid for partially by the University of Tulsa as part of my scholarship. Even though I just turned eight, I'll be attending there when the next semester starts. I'm in town to win the US Open Chess Championship in Fort Worth."

"What brings you to me?" she asked, reevaluating slightly her anger at the meeting with an eight year old.

"I'm investing in a company here in Dallas, Heartland Software. I'm buying 25% from Blake Sanders, owner and CEO, then licensing the software I've written to Heartland for distribution." She was taking careful notes.

"The issue is your age and exercising ownership rights. He can tell you that you own a quarter of the company, but an eight year old is not going to have any authority to do anything about it."

"I don't want authority. These guys are good programmers. They just haven't had a big success. They have contacts and great distribution channels. The problem is timing. Right now on paper the company's not worth much—maybe 500, 000. In a year after my software is released it will be worth around 20 million dollars.

"I just need a team of auditors and lawyers to do due diligence on the deal. Dot the t, cross the i, make it work." She smiled at my joke.

"Well, I can do all of that. What timeline are we looking at?"

"I'd like to have it all done by the end of August. We need to be on store shelves by Thanksgiving. That's going to take time and manpower, which Heartland has but I don't." I signed some documents authorizing her to act on my behalf and a fee agreement. She got copies of Matt's temporary in loco parentis, and he signed as well, authorizing her hire.

"Listen, Ms Parz," I told her, looking up into her bright eyes.

"I know that you got stuck with the kid, and everybody thought it was hilarious to do that to the low girl on the totem pole. But here's the thing, this makes you my lawyer. When the big boys at the firm figure out how much money my family has, and who I am, you will still be my lawyer. They won't."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. I admit, I was sure you were a prank when I saw you," Jennifer said, her smile genuine.

"Hey, if they run roughshod over you, you'd probably quit," I told her.

"You'd never make partner here if that happened." Thursday and Friday chess matches were more exciting. I was drawing a small crowd of spectators as I moved up the ranks. The tournament was designed to place players against those with similar strength. They kept moving me up to a higher group each round as I demonstrated that the Eufalla Lake tournament wins were not a fluke. Saturday was the most exciting, as I was finally up against the masters who had attended the tournament.

I won, but it was a hard-fought game. There were lots of whispered references to Bobby Fischer because of my age and that I had won every game in the tournament I had played. The big day came Sunday. I came prepared for the match wearing my new black suit from graduation. I'm happy to say that I won, performing a brilliancy, later coined 'The Cook Swarm.'

This was a tactical masterpiece: a massive, coordinated piece and pawn sacrifice that created an unstoppable checkmating net, forcing my opponent's immediate resignation. The victory was definitive. The national wire services picked up the story immediately, focusing on the sheer dominance of an eight-year-old chess player and publishing the picture snapped as Lev Alburt handed me the trophy. The winnings covered just over what the food, hotel, plane ride and car rental cost.

I was in newspapers across the country and even took a phone call from my friend Jake Morrow at The Oklahoman.

"John, congratulations! They're calling you the next Fischer," Jake said excitedly.

"What does an eight-year-old US Open Chess champion do next? Focus on school? Maybe a professional tour?"

"I'm heading back to Tulsa tomorrow morning," I told him.

"I'm starting College next week. I probably won't get to another tournament until the US Championship next year."

"Our readers will be thrilled to get an update after your amazing demonstration last month. Congratulations again, John."

"Thanks Jake. It was a long tournament but I'm glad I came," I told him, and ticked another box in the long progression of the shining path I was moving down.