The Brilliant Boy Billionaire - 75. The Dinner Party

“It’s always fascinated me how different cultures have such different mores,” Verona remarked as I regaled them with my Japanese shower story. Franklin had already heard it, but he seemed to enjoy hearing it from a slightly different perspective as I retold it to a different group of people. We were sitting out on the terrace, which I thought was more conducive to informal discussion than was the formal dining room.

“In Japan,” I continued, “It’s considered polite to slurp your soup directly from the bowl. It’s a sign of appreciation. Here, of course, that would be considered rude. In Japan, it’s unforgivable to blow your nose at the table or in front of anyone else, for that matter. It’s about equivalent to belching at the dinner table here, which in Japan is considered a sign of appreciation for a meal.”

“Seriously, though, are you supposed to let your snot run down your upper lip?” Franklin asked.

“The best thing is to excuse yourself and go blow your nose in private,” I explained. “Another case in point is with languages. When Henry’s father died quite suddenly, I sent messages to friends and colleagues all over the world. For some of them, I translated the message into their native language as a sign of respect. For others, I sent the messages in English. Sending it in their own language would have been taken as an insult, as if their English wasn’t good enough.”

“I’m curious, J.J.,” Latisha asked, “do you do your own translations, or do you use Google Translate?”

“Obviously, I used Applazon Translate,” I replied to much laughter and then went on. “Of course, I’m kidding. I used Google Translate as a time saver and then fine-tuned it by hand. I can translate to and from perhaps a couple-dozen languages myself, but I’m not particularly fast at it.”

“J.J. could read and write nearly all of those languages when he was in elementary school,” Henry interjected. “He just didn’t know how to speak them. That didn’t happen until he started traveling all over the world installing data servers during the pandemic.”

“That’s amazing, J.J.” Verona commented. “I should interview you for my column in the Times. They should feature you on MSNBC. I’ll have to talk to Rachel about doing a show on you.”

“Oh god, no. Please don’t,” I countered. “I’m busy enough as it is without having to spend time being interviewed for every friggin’ news show in the world.”

“It’s the price of fame,” Latisha chimed in. Then turning to my brother, she added, “Franklin, the meal was amazing. I’ve been wined and dined in some of the best restaurants with food from the best chefs in the world, and I’d put this up against any of them. I’m curious, though. With your culinary skills, you could command a mid-six-figure income. You won’t earn anything close to that in industry as an engineer. Why bother going to M.I.T.?”

“Looking around this room,” he replied, “I think you’d have to agree that the evidence suggests otherwise. I have no illusions about what most engineers make, but I have no intention of being like most engineers.”

“Point well taken,” Latisha responded. Then turning back to me, she asked, “J.J., this has been a wonderful evening.” Yeah, I’d actually agreed to using all first names for the evening. “As much as Verona and I have enjoyed the fine food and wonderful company, I have a feeling there was another reason you invited us.”

“I can’t get anything by you, Latisha,” I replied. “Actually, I asked you here because my efforts to establish a relationship with your physics and mathematics departments were rebuffed, and the dean isn’t about to challenge endowed chairs.”

“I’m not about to get in the middle of departmental politics,” Latisha countered, “especially not at the request of ‘Corporate America.’”

“Even if it means that Columbia will be left hopelessly behind?” I asked. “You have department chairs who are more interested in preserving their existing grants than in being competitive when it comes to getting the next ones, and they’ve shut me out so I can’t even make the offer to grant them an endowment. Not that I’m trying to buy their favor, but we’d both benefit from the cross-fertilization that graduate students can bring to academia and industry. Because of that, I’m willing to help bridge the gap while they rebuild and retool.”

“Columbia is known for its research in high-temperature super­conductors,” Nithya added. “They’ve been working on them for some forty years, yet they still haven’t developed applications that are scalable to real-world situations, and they’ve yet to find a super­conductor that works at the temperatures above that of liquid nitrogen, let alone at room temperature. We’ve discovered a whole new class of ceramics that are super­conducting at temperatures up to 60 degrees Celsius; that’s 140 degrees Fahrenheit. We’ve used our expertise to model the properties that allow ceramics to act as super­conductors. We’ve learned how to tweak the crystal structure to improve its electric properties and to build quantum computers based on the Josephson junction.”

“Perhaps we should explain what we mean by quantum computers,” Henry suggested. “There’s been a lot of misinformation in the lay press and most people are confused when it comes to the differences between quantum and conventional digital computers.”

“That’s an excellent point,” I agreed. “Once I discovered room temperature ceramic super­conductors, it was obvious they could be used for quantum computing. I never even conceived of the two separately—”

“Obvious to you, perhaps,” Nithya interrupted.”

“I think it’s the sort of thing that, once you hear of it, you wonder why you didn’t I think of it before. Super­conductivity is, after all, a quantum effect. We’re so used to the binary world we’ve built for ourselves, based on computers with bits that are either one or zero, true or false, yes or no, that we forget how very few problems in the real world are binary at all. Most of the problems we face are probabilistic, with a finite number of outcomes.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say I develop a computer model for the fission of a single atom of uranium 235. Not surprisingly, adding a second atom doubles the complexity, but adding a third atom doubles it yet again. To model ten atoms, you’d need more than a thousand times the computer power and for twenty atoms, more than ten million times as much—”

“I remember reading a story about the reward given the inventor of chess,” Verona interrupted.

“According to legend, the king of India wished to reward the game’s inventor, who asked only for a modest amount of wheat,” I related. “He requested that one grain be placed on the first square of the chessboard, two grains on the second, four on the third and so on. There are 64 squares, so the request amounted to well over eighteen quintillion grains. That’s eighteen billion, billion grains of wheat – far more than exist in the world today, let alone in the ancient world. The king rewarded the inventor instead by beheading him. Such a benevolent king.

“In the case of a nuclear reactor, there’s no digital supercomputer on earth with sufficient power to model even the smallest reactor. All the computers in the world combined couldn’t handle it, and so we use numerical methods instead—”

“Which even I have to admit are crude approximations, based on making numerous assumptions that are known to have limited validity,” Henry pointed out.

“In a typical digital computer, a five-volt state may be used to represent ‘one’ and zero volts to represent ‘zero’. In super­conductors, the voltage is always zero and the current is quantized, based on the tunneling of electrons in a crystal matrix. Quantum events are inherently based on probabilities and instead of limiting ourselves to binary bits, we have the opportunity instead to use ‘qubits’, which have a probability of being anything between zero and one. 64 qubits can perform the equivalent of 18 billion, billion calculations in a single pass.”

“A surprising number of problems are better addressed using quantum computers,” Henry chimed in. “For example, air traffic control must deal with multiple radar echoes that represent anything from aircraft to clouds or flocks of birds. Quantum computers can track far more objects with better efficiency because radar echoes are quantum events. Quantum computers can solve extremely complex protein folding problems and assist with the development of new pharmaceuticals that otherwise might never be discovered.”

“The Pentagon has purchased a number of our quantum computers because they have the potential to track thousands of incoming nuclear warheads and to calculate simultaneous targeting trajectories in real time,” I added. “That would be a real game changer.”

“I’m not sure that J.J. even knows this yet because Applazon keeps its secrets close to its chest and because he was busy with the race, but the consumer-electronics group is about to make a major announcement at their summer event in Cupertino next week,” Nithya interjected. “They’re going to announce a complete overhaul of their entire product line of computers. All their computers – their all-in-ones, desktops, professional workstations, laptops and tablets – will be upgraded with ceramics in place of silicon chips. All of them.”

“Really!” I interrupted. “What about the export restrictions?” I asked. “There’d been talk for some time. Why now?”

“The Biden Administration acknowledged what we’ve been saying all along,” Nithya explained. “The risk of continued worldwide economic stagnation is a much greater threat to national security than is anything the Russians, the Chinese or the Iranians might do. And at the Fall event, Applazon will make a similar announcement with regard to their phones. In other words, Applazon is leaving its silicon-based semiconductor past behind and switching entirely to room-temperature, super­conducting ceramics powered by SCEMPER.”

“SCEMPER?” Latisha asked.

“It stands for super­conductive electro­magnetic persistence via electron resonance,” I explained. “Basically, we discovered that ceramics act as super­conductors when the wavelength associated with the bond energy is the same as the size of the crystal structure. The crystal is said to have resonance, and electrons tunnel through it without resistance. By adding a layer of iron, one atom thick, in between layers of the ceramic, we can trap a perpetual current in a magnetic standing wave. A lithium-based rechargeable battery can store an electrical charge up to 265 watt-hours per kilogram. SCEMPER can store over 12 kilowatt-hours per kilogram, and we can build that into the existing structure of a motor, a wind turbine or a data server without adding to the weight or the cost.”

“The field of solid-state physics will be upended, and we’re offering Columbia the opportunity to be a part of that future,” Nithya continued. “Instead, the endowed chairs are so focused on the present that they’ve shut us out. By the time they realize that the world has changed, they’ll be decades behind and playing catchup.”

“Something similar happened with the introduction of my NAND technology for solid-state drives when they were first introduced,” Gideon added, “and that wasn’t nearly as revolutionary.”

“Not only will room-temperature, super­conducting ceramics revolutionize the semi­conductor industry,” Henry interjected, “but they’ll be a major component of the fight to save the planet from the climate crisis—”

“I’d better warn you right now that I’ve yet to be convinced that climate change is at anywhere near the level of a crisis,” Latisha interrupted. “It wasn’t that long ago that scientists spoke of us being in the midst of an interglacial period and that we were headed for another ice age. It’s hard to believe that burning fossil fuels is principally responsible for altering the planet’s climate.”

“Having lived through seven major tropical storms in the space of time in which we’d normally have at most only one, I’m hard-pressed to deny that the climate is warming,” Max countered.

“I didn’t say the climate hasn’t warmed, only that climate change is natural. We don’t need to postulate that our burning of fossil fuels is primarily responsible.”

“You can’t imagine how much Latisha and I have argued on this,” Verona offered. “We’ve had to agree to disagree, as there doesn’t seem to be anything either of us can say to change the other’s mind.”

Thinking about it for just a second, I asked, “If I drive down a residential street and a kid runs out in front of me, does it make any difference if I’m going twenty or thirty miles an hour?”

“Of course, it does, but that’s not a fair comparison,” Latisha replied.

“Why isn’t it? Driving is driving, after all. The car is moving, regardless of how fast I drive it, and there are a lot of factors that can affect how badly the kid is injured. Perhaps in my driving faster, the kid won’t have time to run out as far, so I’ll barely hit him or her, whereas if I’m driving at a slower speed, the kid will have time to run entirely in front of the car and as a result, I might run over and kill them, or the kid might have time to run past me.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact by going faster, you’re more likely to kill the kid.”

“Exactly. The timing of running out is important, but my speed could affect that either way, so the timing isn’t relevant to the argument. The only thing I have control over is my speed, and the car’s kinetic energy is proportional to the square of that speed, as is the potential for serious injury on impact. It’s a matter of physics.

“If you don’t believe the thousands of scientists who are warning us that the climate is in crisis, Latisha, or the literature that has been predicting a relationship between fossil-fuel emissions and climate for at least the past sixty years, at least consider the physics involved. There’s a simple experiment you can do at home that illustrates my point.

“Fill two identical clear glasses with six ounces of fresh tap water and add a couple of ice cubes to each one. Set both in front of a sunny window, making sure they both get equal amounts of sunshine, then cover one of the glasses with a piece of plastic wrap and seal it tight. Come back in an hour, or after the ice in both has melted, and measure the temperature of the water in each glass.”

“The sealed glass will be warmer,” Verona said.

“I’m sure you’re right, but what does that have to do with climate change?”

“In sealing the glass, you prevent evaporation, which is one of the primary mechanisms by which the water loses heat. The situation is similar with the environment. All objects emit infrared, radiant heat. At night, most of that heat escapes into space, cooling the planet. However, certain gases absorb that heat, among them carbon dioxide and methane, the so-called greenhouse gases. The effect of human activity on the concentrations of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere is significant and measurable, and instead of cooling the planet, some of the radiant heat energy is being absorbed by the greenhouse gases, trapping it instead. The greenhouse effect occurs independently from natural factors that affect the climate.”

“But if the atmosphere is warmed, won’t that result in more evaporation and a greater concentration of water vapor and more clouds, and won’t that reflect more sunlight back into space during the day?”

“Yes, and we call that a buffering factor because it tends to mitigate the effects of global warming, but water vapor is itself a greenhouse gas, and it will absorb more radiant heat at night. There are many such relationships, but the most ominous one is glacial melting. For one thing, ice is highly reflective and with shrinking glaciers, there’s less of it to reflect sunlight during the day. Not only that, but as the glaciers melt, more and more permafrost is exposed, releasing trapped methane, which is a potent greenhouse gas.

“That’s what the ice in the two-glass experiment is meant to represent. If you drop a thermometer into each of the glasses and take measurements every five minutes, you’ll see that the temperature remains steady in both glasses for a while – until the ice melts in the one that’s covered. Once the ice has melted, the temperature in that glass will rise rapidly. We call that the tipping point because once the ice is gone, there’s no getting it back. There are multiple tipping points on the earth, and not just with the glaciers, which took centuries to form. Scientists believe we’ve already passed several tipping points, such as with the die-off of the coral reefs. Those reefs were living colonies that absorbed tons of atmospheric carbon. Now, they’re mostly gone and that carbon is slowly being released back into the atmosphere as the reefs decompose.

“There are many things that affect the climate – things like volcanic eruptions and sunspots – but as with the plastic wrap on the glass, CO₂ and methane from human activity make the planet warmer than it otherwise would have been. We could argue ’til we’re blue in the face, but people with far more expertise than either of us have reached a consensus that the effect is significant and the consequences are dire.”

“If nothing else, our quantum computers will make it possible for people like me to model climate change with far more accuracy than has ever been possible before,” Henry pointed out. “It would be a shame if politics gets in the way of Columbia being a part of that.”

“So, what would you have me do?” Latisha asked.

“If I may, rather than feeding the mosquitos, perhaps it’s time to go inside?” Verona suggested.

“It’s probably a good time for dessert and coffee,” I suggested as we all got up and made our way into the living room, closing all the doors but one behind us. Franklin proceeded to clear the table before closing the remaining door, making the coffee and getting dessert.

Before we had a chance to sit down, Latisha stated, “I’m really impressed by the way you’ve decorated the place. I’m not sure I’d have chosen mid-Twentieth-Century modern in an Art Deco building, but it works quite well in here. You have a lovely library, with books that look like they’ve been read rather than merely displayed for show. What really stands out is the artwork, though.”

Chuckling, I explained how we’d been forced to buy the apartment fully furnished and how we’d decided to keep most of it as it was for much the same reason: that it was exceptionally functional and more tasteful than what we’d have selected on our own. “We did get rid of the existing furniture in what they called the family room, as it was pretty dreadful, and we put a state-of-the-art home theater in there in addition to a small library, and upstairs, we took out the furniture that was in the existing media room and replaced it with a full home gym. Of course, we upgraded the home-theater equipment up there, too. We also replaced all of the bedding, and we replaced all the artwork, which looked like what it was, art for people who never lived here. We practically gave it away.

“Creating a library from scratch turned out to be just as difficult as filling the place with art,” I explained. “It would’ve been easier to fill it with a brand-new collection of leather-bound classics. There are publishers that specialize in that sort of thing, but to me it’s pretty obvious that they’re just for show. It screams new money, yet rather than showing how well-read the owners are, it shows just the opposite. It was suggested that we try buying from estate sales, but there are true collectors out there who pounce on them and pick them clean of the best titles.”

“It took some doing, but for a sizable gift,” Henry took over, “we convinced the physics department at Butler University to part with their entire collection of hardbound journals on solid-state physics. Of course, everything’s online now, and the old journals were doing little more than gathering dust, but they looked impressive to visitors, as they do in here.”

“They chronicle the development of the semiconductor industry,” I resumed, “from the first transistors, which were made with germanium – not silicon, by the way – to just before I came up with cyanosilicates. The journals also have the advantage of my having read many of the more significant papers and having familiarity with the rest.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, but it’s an impressive collection. I love the artwork, though. Take this piece, for example,” she said as she stood in front of a floor-standing, life sized-bronze sculpture of a nude boy with his arms raised in the midst of flipping his skateboard. “This could easily be found in a museum.”

“The artist actually has a piece at the Ruben Museum, which is a small museum about a block from here on Fifteenth Street,” I said. “Max and Gideon are on the museum board, and they put us in touch with artists whose work we loved. Our one mistake was in not setting a budget in advance, although we’d have probably blown through it anyway.”

“A piece like this couldn’t have been cheap,” Latisha continued. “I’ve seen pieces like this in galleries selling for twenty or thirty grand.”

“Actually, more like sixty grand,” I replied. “This one was much more difficult to make than you’d think because the entire weight is balanced on a tiny fulcrum, where the back tip of the skateboard rests on the base. Most of our art is by unknown or little-known artists whose work has great potential. There are exceptions, though, like that Yamaguchi over the sofa. He’s an established artist whose work is well known. That’s a particularly large piece, and it’s in one of his books. People pay tens of thousands for a signed and numbered lithograph of one of his paintings. That one original painting set us back as much as the rest of our collection combined.”

“It’s perfect for the spot, though,” Latisha replied. “It matches the style of the room and really opens up the space. Whatever you paid for it, I’m sure it was worth every penny. I bet there aren’t many teenagers with an art collection like yours.”

“It’s not so much about our age as our backgrounds,” I countered. “Henry and I came from very modest backgrounds. Henry was a military brat in a large Catholic family. They never suffered for want, but they were of modest means. I grew up in a shack in Southern Indiana with a pedophile who kidnapped me when I was two, and I ran away when I was twelve. I was very lucky and never had to resort to prostitution, theft or begging to survive the way a lot of kids on the street do, but I never had much money until I started working for Applazon. Then I invented a better data server, and the rest has been something miraculous for someone like me.”

“Before I make the coffee, does anyone want tea or decaf?” Franklin interrupted.

“I’ll have tea,” Max responded. “Do you have Earl Gray by any chance?”

“We certainly do,” Franklin replied. “Have to be ready to serve Jean-Luc Picard, after all.”

“Another Star Trek fan,” Latisha added. “I didn’t know when we got engaged that I’d be marrying into a lifelong obsession with Star Trek. We have every book, every Blu-Ray disc in 3D as well as 4k HDR, every action figure ever made, and enough memorabilia to fill a couple of bedrooms in our house.”

“At one time, Applazon offered the entire collection of Star Trek movies, TV shows and even the cartoon series on DVD as a boxed set—” I noted.

“Yeah, I bought it,” Verona responded. “Two thousand dollars for everything was a stretch back then, but it was a steal for all that content. I’d love to see an updated version with Blu-Ray discs and all the new stuff.”

“The problem is that it would be a niche product,” I answered. “Even Star Trek Enterprise was before my time. Don’t get me wrong; I love Star Trek, and I’ve watched every episode of every series and movie, but most kids from my generation who are into it have never even held a CD, DVD or Blu-Ray disc in their hands. Everything’s available on Applazon Plus to stream or on Paramount+. No one buys content anymore.”

Franklin approached with a tray of coffee and tea. He set the tray down along with an assortment of homemade cookies of all kinds. They looked like something you’d buy in a gourmet bakery, but I knew Franklin had baked them himself. “The coffee’s on the strong side, but it’s J.J.’s and Henry’s favorite, freshly ground and brewed. It’s called Deadman’s Reach, and he has it shipped in from a coffee roaster in Washington State. It’s one of the best coffees I’ve ever tried. There’s skim milk and cream for those who want it, as well as pure maple syrup as a natural sweetener and artificial sweetener for those watching their carbs. Oh, and one mug of Twining’s Earl Grey.”

I continued, “What I was getting at with respect to our art is that for a lot of people of means, it’s all about showing off what they have, as if to put everyone else down, to show how much better they are that everyone else. A library of leather-bound classics comes to mind. Henry and I aren’t like that,” I continued. “We buy fine art because it enriches our lives. As the CEO, I need a place that’s set up for entertaining, but you guys are the first we’ve entertained since moving in. Which brings up another point. We could have easily afforded a penthouse on Billionaire’s Row. Perhaps I should use a different example—”

“No, go ahead, J.J.,” Nithya interrupted. “We thought that if we have to live in New York, we might as well live in a huge penthouse by Central Park. We’ve always lived in California and in a single-family house. We thought that a penthouse would give us space and privacy, but then it’s so large that we needed to hire a housekeeper, so there went our privacy, and the only access we have to outdoors is to take a stroll in the park. We never see the neighbors; most of them don’t even live in New York.”

“Nithya, Jack, I didn’t mean to criticize you in particular, but we looked at several penthouse apartments on Billionaire’s Row and concluded it wasn’t for us. Then we saw this place and made an offer on the spot. Henry and I didn’t even need to talk about it. I just looked at him, and he nodded his head. There’s a very nice penthouse in this building, and if it were for sale, we could have afforded it, but it was more apartment than we needed. Having outdoor space was important to us, though, which was one of the things we didn’t like about the newer supertall high rises. The expansive glass may make it seem like you’re outdoors, but it’s not the same as having a large terrace.

“You know, I think the two of you should consider moving to a brownstone on the Upper West Side – or maybe in Brooklyn Heights. They’re real houses with small yards and neighbors who live there full time. They have a sense of community. There’d be room to grow a family, to have a housekeeper on their own floor, or a nanny if you wish. You’d have your own little back yard and could have a garden if you wish, and you’d be near Central or Brooklyn Bridge Park. The one thing you wouldn’t have is a view.”

“We do want a family,” Nithya added. “We have an infant at home, but both of our jobs take us away from her. The idea of being responsible for someone is really scary. With the slave driver I have for a boss, we definitely needed a nanny. A brownstone really would be a better choice once our daughter is older. We definitely want to have at least one more child.”

“There’s a primal need to care for children,” Henry interjected. “We bought this place with raising a family in mind. J.J. and I both agree that we don’t feel the overwhelming need to ‘carry on the bloodline’ through surrogacy that some couples do, so we’ll adopt. Most likely, we’ll adopt older children that otherwise might never have a chance at adoption. I’d like to help some bullied kids, maybe the effeminate ones or some that are transgendered. Those are the ones who have a really hard time finding a loving home.”

That was the first time I was hearing Henry talk about his thoughts on adoption, but they so closely mirrored my own that I couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for my boyfriend. It took all my energy to keep from crying like a baby, but we had guests, so I simply said, “You just took the words right out of my mouth, Babe. I love you so much.”

“How sweet,” Verona responded. “You guys make an adorable couple. Have you thought about getting married?”

“We’re getting married on Thursday, December 28,” I answered, “and you’re all invited. It’s going to be a big wedding. I spent a lot of time traveling all over the world installing servers during the pandemic, and now that I’m an Applazon CEO, having a small, private wedding isn’t really an option.”

“How many people are you inviting?” Nithya asked.

“We originally intended to send out three-thousand invitations, but ended up sending 3,500, expecting maybe half that to attend, but we’ve already gotten back nearly two-thousand R.S.V.P.s, with only a handful of regrets,” I answered. “Our event manager thinks it likely that with spouses, we’ll end up with just under five-thousand guests, plus maybe a few-hundred children.”

“You’re getting married in the city?” Verona asked and I nodded in response. “Where in New York is there a hotel big enough? Certainly not in Manhattan.”

“We’re renting a cruise ship,” I explained. “There are 2,250 staterooms, which means we’ll be at capacity or slightly over. I would’ve never thought of renting a cruise ship had our planner not recommended it.”

“I’m curious,” Verona asked, “how much does something like that cost?”

“Five grand per guest with a two-thousand guest minimum,” I replied, getting a whistle from both our guests. “But that price is inclusive, with all meals provided.”

“I bet that doesn’t include the band,” Latisha responded.

When I told them who was providing the music at the reception, Latisha asked, “Do they really do private weddings?”

“Apparently, they do for so-called celebrity weddings, which I guess ours is. The cost is a million dollars, though.”

“Yikes,” Latisha responded. “That’s definitely above my pay grade. Send us an invitation, and if we’re in town, we’ll attend.”

“Wait ’til you hear who’s officiating,” Franklin interjected. “Eric Adams.”

“Wait… you’re being married by the mayor?”

“I suggested it more as a joke, but our wedding planner thought it was a great idea,” I replied. “When you get down to it, merely asking was a way to curry favor. We asked both the governor and the mayor – I just didn’t expect that either of them would agree to do it. I guess we should feel honored, but it all comes down to politics. Sometimes I think we’re going overboard, but it’s hard not to in our situation. Otherwise, I’d rather live more modestly. This condo wasn’t cheap, but it’s perfect for us and we love it, and we don’t plan on buying second homes, either. To be sure, a penthouse would be incredible, but it wouldn’t reflect the image we’d like to project, nor would it bring us the joy of living here.”

“You’re teenagers, and for you, I think this place is perfect. When you’re older, you’ll probably want a weekend place out on Long Island, as a colleague suggested for Nithya and me. However, I think you’re probably right about a brownstone being right for us,” Jack continued. “The thing is that they have a lot of hidden costs, and we really liked the idea of buying a place where we were the first owners. I don’t know what we were thinking buying a place with fourteen-thousand square feet. We did look at a few brownstones out of curiosity. Two of them had been converted to multi-family units and needed to be converted back at considerable expense. One had a separate street-level apartment that would be wasted on us—”

“Unless you used it for a live-in housekeeper or a nanny,” I pointed out.

Jack started to open his mouth and then closed it and finally said, “I hadn’t thought of that. That’s something to really think about. Only one of the brownstones we looked at had been fully renovated recently. It was beautiful, and the price reflected it. The asking price was $25 million.”

“That’s actually close to what we paid for this place,” I interjected, “but of course we have to pay a monthly maintenance fee.”

“Most of the brownstones seemed to be priced between five and eight million for around six-thousand square feet, but they needed work, and our realtor told us that at Manhattan prices, we could easily spend that much again or more on a full gutting and renovation, plus we’d have to rent a place for a year or so while the renovations were going on. There wouldn’t be a maintenance fee, but we’d need to pay for all our utilities, insurance on the building, a gardener, a housekeeper, basic upkeep and repairs, and property taxes, which are significantly higher than in a condo, since we’d have to bear the land-use costs alone. A brownstone actually reduces the value of the land, which is why developers are tearing some of them down, buying up the adjacent air rights and erecting narrow, high-rise apartment buildings in their place.”

“You need to set up a shell corporation as a tax shelter,” I suggested. “If you don’t have a separate corporation as the repository for the royalties – as you know, Applazon pays Nithya in stock – I can send you to my accountant to have it set up. By having the corporation buy the property, you can deduct the taxes as a business expense, and you can depreciate the property over fifteen years, drastically lowering your overall income tax. You can make it all legal by paying rent of as little as a dollar to your corporation.”

“The tricks the wealthy use to get out of paying taxes,” Latisha interjected.

“True, but I didn’t write the tax code,” I responded. “I’d love to get rid of all those loopholes so that everyone pays their fair share. However, just look at how much difficulty Joe Biden encountered in trying to reverse the Trump tax cuts on the rich, even though they were enormously unpopular with his base. The congressmen themselves benefited handsomely, and of course, so did their donors. It’s hard to get anything through Congress when moneyed interests have undue influence.”

“Putting an end to political gerrymandering, particularly at the state level, is a must if we’re to enact any kind of meaningful change,” Gideon chimed in.

“The Supreme Court declined to do anything about it, leaving the ball firmly in Congress’ court,” Henry added, “and they’re not about to do anything to jeopardize their power.”

“Perhaps someday I’ll run for Congress and try to fix things,” I suggested, “but it would be an uphill battle.”

“You, a congressman?” Henry asked with a bemused expression.

“Hey, if Bloomberg can be the mayor of New York, why couldn’t I run for Congress someday? Latisha was in Congress for 22 years,” I reminded everyone.

“I didn’t know that,” Henry remarked.

“But you’re a scientist at heart with the ability to save the planet,” Franklin said as he refilled our coffees. “You wouldn’t be happy in politics. It’s not what you do.”

“What do you think a corporate CEO actually does?” I asked Franklin. “And if you go into academia, departmental politics are even worse.”

“That sounds like the perfect segue back into the issue at hand,” Latisha interjected. “So, getting back to the situation at Columbia, what is it you’d like to suggest?”

“Are you familiar with the proposed Center for the Study of Climate Change on Governor’s Island?” I began.