Terminal Value Read Online Free PDF Page B

would fall by 50 percent. At the time, Moore was thought to be crazy, but his prediction proved to be spot-on.
    Silence ruled in the reception area, where thick carpets absorbed all sound, and the absence of human beings grabbed the visitor. Dylan walked over to a wall-sized screen displaying a rotating art collection, where an attractive female avatar appeared.
    â€œWelcome, Mr. Johnson.” A female voice spoke with a faint metallic ring. Soft music played in the background as she announced, “Mr. Williams will be with you momentarily.”
    Dylan found this “Big Brother” welcome somewhat disconcerting.
    â€œWhile you are waiting,” the avatar continued, “I will update you on how we are doing.”
    The avatar evaporated, replaced by a slowly spinning globe where the continents looked like integrated circuits. The globe began to pick up speed until it became a whirling blur that finally exploded to reveal the Mantric logo. The avatar’s voice resumed, “In two short years, Mantric has grown faster than any other technology company in history.” The logo pixelized into multicolored floating currencies that dribbled down into an enormous pile on the screen. “To date, our clients have saved over twenty billion dollars by entrusting their technologies to us.”
    â€œHello, Dylan,” a deep baritone voice called from behind, and Dylan spun around to find Art Williams walking toward him with a beaming smile and outstretched hand. At five feet ten inches tall and with a round protruding belly, the fifty-one-year-old did not look the part of a successful CEO. Streaks of gray wandered through the disheveled brown hair that brushed lightly across his collar. He wore the attire of technology geeks twenty-five years his junior. In his dark gray mock turtleneck pullover, blue jeans, and Nike running shoes, nobody would confuse Art Williams with the cool young techies he apparently aspired to be. Dylan mused that the costume didn’t work.
    â€œPretty impressive, huh?” Art remarked as he motioned toward the screen.
    â€œVery,” said Dylan, attempting to hide his continued discomfort at the “Big Brother” effect.
    â€œCome,” Art said, taking Dylan’s shoulder. “The team is waiting for you.”
    They entered the conference room where the executive committee had assembled, as well as Frank Crowley, Mantric’s master internal technologist, who would be handling the virtual worldwide meeting. Art directed Dylan to a seat at the middle of the table.
    â€œDylan, I think you’ve already met a few of these people, but let’s go around the table and have everybody introduce themselves.”
    Christine Rohnmann, tall and slender, with short brown hair cut in severe layers, was dressed in an expensive, conservative pinstripe suit. She wore a small pearl choker and pearl and diamond earrings—her statement of wealth, class, and control. After she had guided ProTechSure through the stages of going public, she earned her reputation as the female version of Attila the Hun and became Art’s trusted first lieutenant. She was about to do the same at Mantric, cementing her role in the company.
    â€œHello, Christine,” Dylan said politely. “Good to see you again.”
    She nodded, did not look at him, and said nothing.
    â€œHello, Dylan,” said an Indian man who got up, walked over to him, and shook his hand. “I am Sandeep Nigam, Chief Technology Officer. It’s a great pleasure to meet you. I admire the work you have been doing, and I’m very happy you are now part of our team.”
    â€œIt’s a pleasure to meet you. Tony Caruso speaks highly of you and your work.” Dylan shook Sandeep’s hand, wondering if he should have stood up as well. He observed that the wrinkled white button-down shirt, faded jeans, and Nikes that Sandeep wore worked, in this case, just fine.
    â€œI return the