On the twentieth of July, two important events took place. The Daily Prophet published an article announcing Sirius Black's amnesty. Richard, however, was far more interested in his upcoming meeting with a young American specialist in computer science, cryptography, and law.
Richie had arranged the meeting in one of Grosvenor Group's conference rooms. Everything had been prepared for the negotiations. At last the moment arrived—a young secretary escorted the guest into the room.
The young man appeared to be around twenty-five. He was tall and looked slightly nervous. His brown eyes were fixed on Richard. His black hair had been cut short, though somewhat unevenly, and he wore a short beard and moustache of the same dark colour. He was dressed in a dark blue shirt beneath an inexpensive dark two-piece suit. His collar was unbuttoned, and he wasn't wearing a tie.
"Good afternoon, Mr Szabo," Richard said warmly. "Please, have a seat."
Szabo settled into the chair opposite the young Grosvenor, looking more than a little surprised.
"Good afternoon, sir," Szabo replied, uncertainty evident in his voice. "You're Richard Grosvenor—the one I've been corresponding with?"
"That's right, Mr Szabo," Richard answered. "Please don't let my age concern you. I've been managing my affairs independently for several years now, and my business is thriving. I trust your journey here was uneventful."
"Yes, Mr. Grosvenor," Szabo replied. "Thank you for the invitation and for covering my travel expenses. I liked the hotel. Um... if you don't mind, please call me Nick. I'm not used to such formalities."
"All right, Nick."
Richard graciously lowered himself to the Yank's level. He believed that if you wanted to achieve something with a person, you ought to speak their language. What else could one expect from a Yank? They knew nothing of British etiquette. None of the customary conversation about the weather, nor proper forms of address such as Lord, Earl, or my lord...
"Sir, I'm not entirely sure why you invited me," Szabo admitted.
"Nick, three years ago you graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in Computer Science, then continued your studies. Unless I'm mistaken, you now hold a doctorate—and you certainly didn't earn it by looking pretty."
"Yes, that's right," Szabo agreed. "I was working on developing new cryptographic methods applicable to computer systems."
"I've heard about your work, Nick," Richard said respectfully. "Smart contracts... I was quite taken with the concept."
"Mr. Grosvenor, I'm astonished." Szabo looked genuinely dumbfounded. "Forgive me, but you look very young. Are you telling me you actually understood what my research was about?"
"Of course, Nick." Richard gave a slight nod. "You're developing a mechanism for applying advanced principles of contract law to electronic commerce protocols on the Internet. I already know where it leads."
A look of genuine curiosity appeared in Mr Szabo's eyes.
"You do?" he asked with interest. "I'd be very curious to hear what conclusion you reached..."
"Cryptocurrency..." Richie drawled meaningfully before falling silent.
Mr Szabo's eyes widened to the size of half-crowns. His jaw dropped as he stared at Richard in undisguised admiration.
"Mr. Grosvenor, you've truly surprised me," Szabo said. "How did you figure that out? I haven't told anyone about cryptocurrencies!"
"Hmm..." Richard mused. "Nick, some people consider me a genius, though I don't think of myself that way. The conclusion was implicit in your work."
"And..." Szabo began, then stopped. After thinking for a moment, he continued, "And you want to offer me something?"
"Yes, Nick." Young Grosvenor nodded. "Working on your own with a rather underpowered computer, it'll take you another ten years—perhaps even longer—to develop your cryptocurrency. No doubt it'll eventually make you an enormous fortune, but..."
Understanding dawned across Mr Szabo's face.
"You want to invest in my project and take a share!" he exclaimed.
"You're very intelligent and perceptive, Mr Szabo," Richard replied. "I expected nothing less."
"Why should I share it with anyone?" the American asked with a frown.
Richard gave the Yank an amused look.
"Nick, you have a choice. You can spend the next ten years—or more—living comfortably enough, but hardly in luxury. Or..." He paused. "You can accept not only financial backing from me, but access to a technological infrastructure unlike anything else in the world. How would you like access to the world's first artificial intelligence?"
Szabo was completely floored. The revelation shocked him so profoundly that for several moments he couldn't utter a single word. When he finally recovered enough to speak, he managed only,
"A-an AI?! You're pulling my leg!"
Richard shook his head with barely perceptible movements.
"No, Nick," he said. "I already have working prototypes of several artificial intelligences. They simply need to be properly programmed. I can give you access to one of them. With that kind of assistance, you'll be able to develop your cryptocurrency in a year or two. During that time, you'll be provided with housing and receive a generous research grant. Once development is complete, you'll receive a substantial share of the venture. Either way, you won't come out on the losing end.
"One way or another, you'll become a millionaire. The only difference is that if you accept my offer, you'll become wealthy ten or fifteen years sooner. Think about it—wouldn't you rather spend your youth with an enormous fortune in the bank than spend another decade reaching the same destination?"
Szabo gave the proposal serious thought. Complete silence reigned in the conference room for nearly five minutes. Richard did not interrupt Nick's reflections or try to hurry him along. He was afraid that one careless word or action might frighten away a man capable of making them both an immense fortune. At last, Nick emerged from his thoughts and asked,
"Do you really have an AI?"
"Yes, Nick." Richie nodded. "But it's strictly confidential."
"Then I accept!" Nick Szabo answered enthusiastically. "Where else could I ever get access to an AI? ...Yes, Mr. Grosvenor, I accept. Let's discuss how we'll divide the shares in this digital gold."
"Bit Gold?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow. "A good name—I like it. But I think Bitcoin would suit it even better..."
(End of Chapter)
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