Money could be earned again.
Time could not.
That morning he was not an executive.
He was not an investor.
He was not important to anyone inside that ballroom.
He was a maintenance technician who had walked into the wrong meeting because a frightened woman had written two words on a napkin.
Then the main screen went black.
The effect was immediate.
A low murmur moved through the ballroom.
Evelyn turned.
The second screen went dark.
A technician rushed toward the control console.
"What happened?" Evelyn asked.
"We lost the live system connection."
Victor stood.
"How long?"
The technician typed rapidly.
"I don't know. Maybe ten minutes."
Victor looked toward Evelyn.
"Ten minutes?"
"We're working on it."
"That's unacceptable."
Evelyn's jaw tightened.
"It's a temporary technical issue."
Victor tilted his head.
"Is it?"
The question sounded harmless.
Daniel heard the challenge beneath it.
Several board members exchanged glances.
The technician restarted the presentation computer.
Nothing happened.
He checked a network connection.
Still nothing.
Another technician joined him.
Daniel looked at the screens.
Then at the control booth.
Then at the bundle of cables running beneath the stage.
Something did not make sense.
A crashed system usually behaved like a crashed system.
This one looked dead.
Too dead.
Daniel walked toward the control area.
A hotel security officer stepped into his path.
"Sir, you can't go back there."
Daniel held up his maintenance badge.
"Your system isn't down."
The guard frowned.
"What?"
"It's been switched off."
One of the technicians heard him.
"What did you say?"
Daniel pointed beneath the console.
"Your backup feed is connected to the wrong channel."
The technician looked.
His expression changed.
"That's impossible."
Daniel crouched.
"Then somebody did the impossible."
He reached behind a rack of equipment.
The guard leaned forward.
"Sir."
Daniel ignored him.
He followed the primary video cable by touch until his fingers hit something that did not belong.
A small black adapter had been inserted between two connectors.
He pulled it free.
Both projection screens immediately returned.
The Grant Meridian logo filled the ballroom.
A few people applauded.
Then dozens joined them.
The technician stared at Daniel.
"What was that?"
Daniel held up the adapter.
"Something designed to make a working system look broken."
The technician took it.
"I didn't install this."
"I believe you."
Across the ballroom, Evelyn was staring at Daniel.
Victor was staring at the adapter.
He was not applauding.
For perhaps one second, his carefully controlled expression disappeared.
Daniel saw fear.
Then Victor's face became calm again.
But Daniel had already seen enough.
The folded napkin inside his pocket suddenly felt heavier.
Help me.
The presentation resumed.
Daniel returned to Lily.
She had finished number seven.