Michael Holt's office was a reflection of the man himself: vast, orderly, and filled with technology so advanced it was almost invisible. Holt himself, seated behind his desk, projected a calm intelligence that felt almost physical in the room.
Michael Holt, without preamble: "Good morning, Mr. Marcus Kane. What can I do for you? As you know, I'm a busy man."
Marcus felt the test immediately. Holt was playing the part of the pressed businessman, but Marcus knew he was facing one of the brightest minds on the planet, a man capable of perceiving lies and pretense. Trying to deceive him would be futile. The only strategy was honesty and the raw value of the idea.
Marcus, equally direct: "Good morning, Mr. Holt. I won't waste your time. I'm here to talk about a piece of technology no one has thought of until now. Not even you."
Holt's eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly. The controlled arrogance of the statement had piqued his interest. No one came to tell him he'd missed something.
Michael Holt, intrigued: "And what is it?"
Without another word, Marcus unfolded his digital portfolio and placed it on the desk. A hologram immediately lit up, projecting the detailed schematics, user interfaces, and marketing concepts for an elegant, compact device: a smartphone.
Michael Holt leaned forward, his analytical gaze scanning every detail. He said nothing, but his silence was an invitation to continue.
Marcus, capitalizing on the opening: "I call it a 'smartphone.' In essence, it's a mobile telephone, but it's as if you fused a pocket computer, a camera, a portable game console, and a world library into a single device held in the palm of your hand."
He swiped through the images to show the specifications.
Marcus: "The interface is a touchscreen. No more cumbersome physical keyboard. You touch, you swipe, it's intuitive. It runs on an operating system, an open platform where any developer can create small programs we'll call 'applications' or 'apps.'"
He listed the functions, counting on his fingers:
"Make calls, send text and multimedia messages, browse the web, check email, take quality photos and videos, listen to music, watch movies, play games, use real-time GPS maps, manage your calendar, your contacts... The list is endless because the applications will be."
Then, with a honesty that surprised Holt, he addressed the drawbacks.
"Of course, there are challenges. The potential for addiction is enormous. People could spend more time on their screens than in the real world. The environmental impact of mass production and planned obsolescence will be significant. Privacy will be a major issue. It's not a perfect technology. It's a... transformative one. And it's in either good or bad hands."
Marcus fell silent, letting the holographic images spin silently between them.
Michael Holt remained still for a long moment, his fingers steepled under his chin. He was looking beyond the schematics; he was seeing the societal, economic, revolutionary potential.
"You're right," he said finally, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of it. We have advanced communicators, virtual reality, holoprojectors... but nothing this simple, personal, and universally accessible. It's... brilliant in its simplicity. And terrifying in its implications."
He looked up at Marcus.
"You're not just selling a product, Mr. Kane. You're selling a civilizational shift. Why me? And what exactly are you proposing?"
A smile played on Marcus's lips. The door was open.
"I'm proposing an equal partnership, Mr. Holt. Your technical expertise, your production lines, and your reputation for development and distribution. My idea, my vision, and my initial funding. Together, we can control how this technology enters the market. To make it as ethical and beneficial as possible."
Michael Holt studied Marcus's face, searching for any trace of duplicity. He found none.
"Very well, Mr. Kane," said Holt, a rare smile lighting his face. "You have my attention. And potentially, my partnership. Let's talk numbers."