4

New York City, 8:48 A.M.

The TV anchors share facts they don’t understand in voices that lack their usual swagger.

Havens and Sobieski watch it bearing down on them while frantically working to stop it.

The overnight dip. The approaching storm. The imminent crash.

One talking head wonders if black box algorithms have somehow overloaded the exchanges, if thousands of speed-of-light auto traders attempting to stay one step ahead of the meme have simultaneously placed a blizzard of sell orders. One anchor wonders about cyber warfare. A guest calls it, as if she’s overheard the NYSE PR official, “computerized arbitrage.”

Under his breath, Havens simply calls it “a disaster.”

“What do you know about Transmediant!?” asks Sobieski.

“Beside the fact that it’s another Salvado favorite? It claims to be the future of media and entertainment. Convergence specialists, bringing together new models and combinations of entertainment, content, branding, and tech. Decent numbers. Modest growth projections. Et cetera.”

“So it fits in with the other six?”

“Yeah. No. Four of them, anyway.” Havens remembers the point he wanted to make about the relationship between the real estate and insurance stocks. The outliers in the mix. “Hey,” he asks, “is there a way with this program to track which NYCRE real estate holdings are insured by CGI?”

“With this? Yeah.” She’s already typing. Havens watches the TV. POSSIBLE TRADING CURBS BEFORE THE BELL scrawls across the bottom of the screen, followed by COMPUTERIZED ARBITRAGE? followed by BLACK FRIDAY? Then come the futures, a sea of red symbols.

Sobieski waves him over and jabs at the screen. “Here’s a list of every company that’s part of NYCRE. And here’s a list of the companies from that group who are on record as having some level of an insurance relationship with CGI.”

Havens leans in. “Of the seventy-eight real estate companies on the first list, at least nine are insured in some degree by CGI.” As they look closer at the nine, one jumps out.

“Transmediant!” Sobieski says, straightening up and backing away from the screen as if it’s on fire.

Havens moves to the keyboard and takes over while she paces, processing this new packet of information. He calls up the Transmediant! stock profile. “Down almost fifty percent before opening. Heavy volume. One of the ups that appeared all three times on Hindenburg Omen days in the past month.” He opens the Wiki page, the Hoover profile. The company Web site. “Worldwide headquarters in midtown Manhattan,” he reads aloud, “at the newly renovated, landmark Transmediant! Conference Center and Theater.” Then, “A NYCRE property.” Now he stands as well. “And look . . .” He points at the corporate logo at the head of the home page on the company Web site. She leans back in. “Transmediant!” Havens repeats.

“With an exclam, in red,” Sobieski adds. “Just like Weiss’s board.”

They’re hovering over the screen, shoulder to shoulder, looking for more. Sobieski says, “I had an English teacher in ninth grade who said a good writer never uses an exclamation point unless the world is on fire.”

“Well, apparently, this one is especially well placed.” Havens points at the screen, beneath the logo, at the copy under a headline that reads:

 

WHAT’S NEW AT TRANSMEDIANT!

Transmediant! to host the inaugural DAVOS WEST (World Economic, Security, and Technology) Conference

Join the world’s financial and tech elite @ Transmediant! Theater and Conference Center in NYC October 21–23.

“There it is,” Havens says. “Book 22. There’s our ‘Death in the Great Hall.’”