One afternoon, in a JFK International Airport AirTrain station, a woman pauses to look at her hair and eyebrows in a vending machine mirror.  Satisfied everything is in order, she continues to the escalator.

Stepping onto the escalator, she scans the crowded AirTrain platform below her.  Within seconds she becomes aware of a man on the far edge of the platform with a black computer bag slung over his shoulder.  He is looking up at her.  Thinking the man is looking at someone else, she looks behind her.

Nobody there.  I'm the only one on the escalator.  He's cute.

The escalator slowly descends.

He is more than cute.

The seconds pass.

He has captured my eyes.

She sees the man is walking in her direction.

OK.  I'll play his game.  It will be a pleasant diversion, but it will be two ships passing in the night—never knowing, never caring.  By tomorrow afternoon, this ship will be 10,000 miles from here.

Not quite.  Two passing ships don't send DNA laden signals at the speed of light directly into the loneliest part of the heart, filling it with excitement, desire, and hope.

Approaching each other, her eyes, her smile, answer his.  The emotional barriers are down.  They are together as one in a strange and thrilling way—oblivious of the crowd around them.

The unspoken message they exchange as they pass each other controls the woman until she is on the edge of the platform and becomes aware of her pounding heart.  “Whatever that was, it was WONDERFUL!” she says out loud.

The AirTrain arrives and the woman gets on.  Too excited to sit down, she holds on to an overhead metal bar, staring at the floor, trying to understand what happened on the platform.

Where was he going?  I should have turned around — gone back after him — or at least waited for the next train to give him time to turn around, to find me.  I never had those emotions before.  So sudden.  So overwhelming.  It seemed like we were going to be together forever.  I just wasn't thinking clearly.

Two feet appear on the floor beside her.  The left one is wearing a black sock; the right one, a brown shoe.

When she looks at the man beside her, he laughs at her surprise.

“You look familiar,” he says.

The woman looks down at his feet.

“I almost didn't make it,” he says.

He lifts his left foot.  “The jaws of death.”

“Jaws of death?"

“The AirTrain door.  It showed no mercy.  It closed on my foot just as I jumped in.  Fortunately for me, it caught the heel of my shoe.  My momentum going through the door pulled my foot right out of the shoe.”

The man puts his foot down.  “The train is slowing down.  I'll be right back.  I want my hand on the shoe when the door opens.”

When he returns, he holds up the shoe.  “Not much damage.”

The woman smiles.

He bends down, puts on the shoe, and stands up.  He unzips a compartment of his computer bag, takes out a business card, and hands it to the woman.

“Allow me to introduce myself.  I'm Cosmo Smith.”

Taking the card, the woman smiles.  “Nice to meet you Cosmo.  I'm Layne Patterson.”

She looks down at the card and reads aloud, “Cosmo Smith, Have Computer, Will Travel.”

“I took that from the name of an old television series, 'Have Gun, Will Travel.' Turn the card over.”

Layne turns the card over.  “A hologram,” she says tilting the card back and forth.

She looks up.  “Magic Man?”

“That's my nickname in the software industry.  At the eleventh hour—when a company has an unresolvable software problem or impossible programming deadline—somebody will say, for God's sake, call San Francisco, call the Magic Man.  That's why I'm in New York.  Working my magic.  Instead of a gun, I come armed with proprietary, plug-and-play modular software I've written.  I have more than one hundred and fifty software patents.  Mom got the first one for me when I was in the ninth grade.  She’s a patent lawyer.”

“Very impressive.  Can you direct me to the 6th Avenue Line subway?  I’m meeting with COR Broadcasting at 75 Rockefeller Plaza about syndicating my television show here in the U.S.”

“Oh.  Are you from England?”

“No mate.  I'm a banana bender from Brisbane, Australia, and this is my first trip to the States.”

He makes no reply.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asks.

“No.  Not at all.  It’s just that you’re the first Australian woman I've met.” Cosmo pauses.  “Are Australian women always so candid?"

“About what?  About having never been in the States before?”

He nods.

“I have a radio show and a television show where I do nothing, but talk to strangers.  When it comes to personal matters, I’ve found sheilas are more open than blokes.”

Cosmo takes out his cell phone.  “I'll Google the directions and go with you.  My flight home isn't until seven."

Layne and Cosmo find their way to COR Broadcasting by mid-afternoon.

“Thank you so much for going out of your way to get me here,” Layne says.  “That I should encounter a magic man from San Francisco walking around on a crowded train platform in New York is quite amazing.  I have some time before my meeting.  Enough time for an interview.  Would you like me to interview you?”

“Sure,” Cosmo says and points to a bench.  “How about there?”

After they are seated, Cosmo says, “I give my best interviews from sidewalk benches if I can imagine myself in the studio.  Is this a radio or TV interview?”

“Telly.”

“Do you have a video of you conducting a telly interview?”

Taking her phone out of her pocket book, she says, “Perhaps, although I can’t recall putting one in since it’s an everyday occurrence.”

She puts the phone on the bench.  “Do you like blondes?”

“Since I’m looking at one, there is only one answer I can give,” he says.  “Yes.”

“Do you like red hair?” she asks.

Cosmo shrugs.  “Depends on who’s wearing it.”

Layne raises her hand to her forehead, pulls off her blonde wig, and shakes her head to loosen her hair.

“I am,” she says, laughing at his startled expression.

Recovering quickly, Cosmo smiles and says, “I like it.”

“I was tipped off about wearing a wig by a friend who works at Quantas.  She lent me this one.  I dyed my eyebrows to match.  The flight from Brisbane is twenty hours, and I scheduled the interview for the same day I arrived.  No time to worry about my hair.  I changed clothes in a terminal changing room.”

“I wasn’t aware JFK terminals had a changing room.”

“The toilet.”

Cosmo chuckles.

Layne picks up her phone, turns it on, and moves closer to Cosmo.  “Can you see the screen?”

Cosmo moves closer to Layne until their bodies are touching.  “Let’s see what you have.”

Layne starts scrolling through the screens.

“Stop!  Go back two pictures.”

“This one?”

“Yep.  That’s the one.  Is that legal?”

“Is what legal?  The long boards?”

“No,”  he says.  “The two piece.”

“The two piece?"

“What you're wearing.”

She looks at the picture.  “Is there something wrong with it?"

“It's dangerous.  A man could get hurt staring at it.”

She laughs.  “I slip boardies over my togs before I go out—to keep the sharks away.”

He pauses.  “Who’s the guy?”

“My older brother.”

“Good-looking dude.”

“He is, but he's never been one to look in the mirror.  Women call him a weapon of mass excitement, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.  He's down-to-earth with a good sense of humor.  People like him.  I enjoy being with him.”

“Is he married?”

“Not yet, but one day some sheila will materialize from out of the blue and land right on top of him.” Layne chuckles.  “And I hope I’m there to see it.”

She looks down at her phone and begins scrolling again.  After a several seconds she stops.  “I don’t have a video, but here is a picture taken during a television interview.  I’m interviewing an Australian scientist, Brian Lawrence, working in France for ITER.”

“How does the interview work?” Cosmo asks.

I use the same format on my television show that I use on my radio show.  I have a guest.  We chat for a few minutes, then I have people from the audience ask questions.  At the end of each show, I announce who will be the guest next week to give viewers a chance to ask questions.  They e-mail me the question they want to ask.  I select the best questions and instead of dialing in, I send them a camera.  They attach the camera-microphone device I send them to their computer, type in our web site, enter the password I give them over the telephone, and they appear on the big screen in my studio.”

“I get the idea,” Cosmo says.  “Are you ready for the interview?”

“Yes,” Layne says and starts to put her phone in her bag.

“Before you put your phone away, can you send me the picture of you and your brother.”

Layne scrolls through the pictures and stops at the picture.  “I don’t know if my phone will work here.”

Cosmo hands her his phone.  “I have international calling.  Call your phone and then leave your phone on.  I’ll hack your phone using my phone and computer.”

“But your computer isn’t on.”

“My phone is connected to my desktop at home that stays on 24/7.”

“Oh,” she says.  She calls her number and hands his phone back.

After a couple of minutes, he smiles.

“Got it,” he says holding up his phone for her to see.

She looks at the picture.  “You are a magic man,” she says.  “I’m amazed.”

He puts his phone away.

“I lived in San Diego, California, until I graduated college.  I have a sister, Kerri, a year older than me.  We grew up surfing.”

He pauses.  “How am I doing so far?”

“Not bad,” Layne says, “considering I haven’t asked you a question yet.”

“What’s the question?”

“What board do you use the most.”

“A step-up.  North Shore.”

“Please continue.  You were in high school.”

“When I entered college, Dad and Mom moved to San Francisco.  Kerri moved there when she graduated, and I move there the following year when I graduated.  I moved in with my parents and started looking for a software company—a startup company.  I wanted to get in at ground zero.  There were plenty of ground zeros, but they weren’t paying money, they were paying stock.”

“I understand perfectly,”  Layne says.  “About wanting to earn enough money to have a life.  Please continue.”

“Before long, it was my bank account and not me that was approaching ground zero, so I decided to switch to plan B and work as a programmer for a large company.  That job search wasn’t going well either—no experience.  Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, plan K appeared.”

“Plan K?”

“Plan K was Kerri.  One night, she was in a club with some girlfriends.  Next to them was a table of guys.  The guy sitting behind her went to the bar.  She liked his looks and decided to introduce herself, so when he came back from the bar with a beer, she pulled the chair from under him as he was sitting down.”

“Far out!  Was he hurt?"

“He asked her to dance.  She’s ingenious when it comes to pressing the male excitement button.”

He pauses for a moment.  “How are we doing for time?”

“A few more minutes.”

“The man’s name was Sam Worth, and he was fully integrated into San Francisco’s startup community with three startups taken public.  He gave me a job at his latest startup that paid money and gave me cross-platform experience.  Working for him got me the credentials that opened doors as an independent programmer which is where I am today.”

“Is that the end of the interview?” Layne asks.

Cosmo shrugs.  “That’s all there is.”

“Then it’s time for me to suck it and see,” she says.

Cosmo looks at her for several seconds.  “Didn’t you bring a presentation?”

“Tom Lang, the CORE producer who invited me to make the presentation, has it.  I sent it when I made my initial inquiry.”

Layne hands Cosmo a small mirror to hold while she puts on her wig and adjusts it.

“Is it on straight?” she asks turning her head from side-to-side.

“Perfect.” He pauses.  “You look nice.  Very nice.”

They stand and for several seconds are silent.

“Don’t you want to wish me luck before I go?” she asks.

“This is terrible,” Cosmo says.  “We will never meet again.”

Layne leans forward, kisses him gently on the lips and quickly walks away.

Layne comes out of the COR building, pauses briefly, and walks slowly towards a light sitting on a bench and stops beside it.

Cosmo looks up, closes his computer, and moves to one side of the bench.  “I waited so we could go to the airport together.”

Layne sits down.

After a few moments, Cosmo says, “It didn’t go well did it?”

Staring at the ground, Layne shakes her head.

“They probably gave you the run around.  Probably acted as if you were unwelcome, an unwanted stranger.”

Layne nods, but doesn’t look up.

After a long silence, Layne says, “I told the receptionist who I was and I had an appointment with Mr. Lang.  She said Mr. Lang was out of the country.  I told her I had come all the way from Australia and handed her the e-mail from Mr. Lang confirming our appointment.  The receptionist read the e-mail. She said she would try to find somebody to talk to me and asked me to sit down.  She called somebody and gave them the story.  She hung up and said somebody would be out to talk to me.”

Layne takes off her wig, shakes her hair loose, and puts it on the bench beside her.

“A woman my age came out and told me to follow her into a small conference off the reception area.  She said COR sent me an e-mail canceling the appointment which I must have overlooked.  I asked her why the appointment was canceled.  She said COR does not syndicate foreign talk shows.  I asked her why did Mr. Lang want me to give a presentation if that was the situation.”

“I know the answer,” Cosmo says.  “It was a misunderstanding.  But not theirs, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I wish I could take your disappointment and put it on my shoulders.  I’ve been rejected so many times that one more wouldn’t matter, but I know you are hurt.  You wouldn’t be a decent person if you weren’t.”

Layne looks at him and smiles.  “Thank you.”

She puts the wig in her bag.  “I won’t need this anymore.”

She pauses.  Then takes the wig out of her bag and puts it on her head.  People will take me for a dag if I have red hair and blonde eyebrows.  Is it on straight?”

Holding hands to stay together, Layne and Cosmo manage to squeeze into the subway car.  They stand facing each other with only inches between them.

“Are the subways in Australia this crowded?” Cosmo asks.

“Brisbane doesn’t have a tram.  The trams in Sydney are double-deck and weren’t bad the few times I rode them.  Adelaide, and Perth are single-deck and weren’t crowded.  Melbourne is also single-deck, but crowded.  But this!  This is crowded!” She smiles.  “But I’m not complaining.”

He smiles.  “Neither am I.”

“How long is the flight back to Brisbane?” he asks.

“Twenty-two hours with a stopover in LA.  I’m flying Qantas, so I don’t have to change planes.  But still, I go silly after a while.  The flight is just too long.”

“What are going to do when you get home.”

“I would like to take a holiday─ a two-week holiday, but it’s straight back to work.  I can’t even get sick.”

“What!”

“I mean I can get sick, but I would have to pay one of the regular employees out of my own pocket to stand-in for me.  You see, I’m a consultant like you.  I don’t get a salary and benefits either.  I get a percent of the advertising revenue my shows generate.

“Do you live with your parents?”

“No.  Why?"

“Just asking,” he says.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Really.  Are you on the road that much?  I mean so much that you don’t need your own place?” she asks.

“The five high-speed computers networked together in my bedroom for parallel processing are all I need.  I don’t live the normal nine-to-five like other people.  It seems like I’m always working, so living with my parents is fine for now.  Plus it’s convenient having my dad close by for the project we are working on together.”

They ride for a while in silence until Cosmo says, “I was thinking about your trip here today being an anomaly for you and my trip here being an anomaly for me which makes our meeting seem like a quantum fluctuation.

“Quantum fluctuation?” Layne asks.  “What is a quantum fluctuation?”

“A quantum fluctuation is like your brother falling in love with a woman who appears without warning from out of the blue.  It’s two strangers...  us...  two faces in a crowd suddenly brought together.  It’s an unforeseen event created out of thin air.  There’s no planning for it, no anticipating it, no thinking about, no wanting it, no avoiding it.  It either happens or it doesn’t. ”

“I never thought of a chance encounter in that way.  Awesome.”

“We are slowing down,” Cosmo says.  “This is where we switch over to the AirTrain for the airport.  I’ll push and you follow.”

Arriving at the terminal, Layne checks in and they walk to the security area.

“Before I go through security,” Layne says, “I have one more interview question if that is alright with you.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“I want you to tell me what you are working on with your dad.”

Cosmo rubs his chin for awhile and then scratches his forearm for several seconds.  Finally he says, “It’s confidential.”

“Oh.”

They stand there silently until Cosmo says, “It’s confidential because somebody will take our idea and patent it.  But I’ll tell you.  You mentioned earlier you interviewed a man who worked at ITER.”

“That’s right.  Brian Lawrence”

“Well, one of my main clients is ITER.  My dad and I created a program that surrounds its neutral beam injection heating process in a wall no outside software can penetrate.  My dad inserted five atoms of Cobalt-60 into a black box, and I wrote software that captures the beta decay in the box.  The beta decay in each atom produces six different gamma-ray frequencies.  The decay for each atom is entirely random, so it is impossible to predict when a particular atom will decay.  No computer random number generator is involved.”

“What does the software you wrote do?  I mean how does it protect ITER’s heating process?”

 “As the atoms decay, the gamma-ray frequencies send a signal to the software to broadcast a sequential internet address.  I use more than 2,000 false internet addresses for the software to broadcast.  The atoms are decaying so fast and sending so many false internet addresses in rapid succession that it is impossible for external software to determine the true internet address and hack the process.”

“Far out!  How did your dad know to put atoms in a black box.”

 “He is a theoretical physicist.  He knows all about stuff like that.  The problem with the code is that it is only good for a single process and it won’t let anything out.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Cosmo says.

“Well?”

“Well, I want more than that.  I want to have my own startup.  The reason I don’t have any money is because I have been investing in other people’s startups and none of them have hit the jackpot.  I’ve blown all my money.  I’m back to where I started.”

They stand silently until Cosmo says, “Dad and I are trying to broaden the scope of our ITER program to protect the privacy of people engaged in a conversation or a meeting across all platforms.  But the only thing we have so far is a name, NoParty.”

“NoParty like nobody knows you are having a party?” Lane asks.

“Yep.  Dad suggested writing code that taps into the black box to enable the atom decay to be used anywhere.”

“Is that possible?”

“It’s possible and would allow me to sell the ITER module to other manufactures who want process protection.  As for the general public, the ITER module could be used with third-party meeting software by people who wanted to insure their privacy.  It makes all the layers of security software unnecessary.  All they would have to do is add the meeting URL to the NoParty program and NoParty would start sending out false URLs along with the meeting address just like it does for ITER.  Everybody in the party’s privacy is protected.”

“Well?”

“Well,” Cosmo  says,”  I don’t have the time to write all the code.  It will be a massive undertaking.  My parents said they would support me if I wanted stop consulting and move forward with this project, but I don’t know.  I don’t know what to do.”

 “Listen mate, I still have the $1,000 I was going to spend on this trip.  I want to invest it in your company.”

“What?”

“I want to invest $1,000 in your company.”

“Why would you want to do that?  You’re as broke as I am.”

Layne is silent for several seconds.

“I want to create a tie that binds,” she says finally.

They are both silent, until Cosmo says, “Keep your money.  I’m already bound.”

“I want you to have it.  I want to be part of your life.”

“And I want to be part of yours.”

Layne reaches in her purse and takes out an envelope and hands it to Cosmo.  “Here.  Take it.”

Cosmo takes it.  “I would kiss you if we weren’t in the airport.”

She smiles.

“We’re partners now,” he says.  “50-50”

She nods.

“The way this thing works is that I will code non-stop until I have a product that is ready for market.  Towards the end I won’t even come up for air.  That’s when the testing is done and the bells-and whistles are added.”

She nods.

“I’m going to miss you,” Cosmo says.

They stand silently until Layne says, “I suppose I should get in line for security.”

Layne puts her arm around the back of Cosmo’s shoulders, holds him close to her, and kisses him.

She stands back, smiles, turns and walks towards the security line.

Layne decides to tell her television and radio audiences about Cosmo.

“A few weeks ago, I paid a short visit to America, just to see what the place was like.  While I was there I met the most amazing man.  He’s a computer programmer who has an ingenious idea for a high-tech startup.  Of course, I can’t say what the startup is because it’s proprietary, but I can say I invested money in it, and we’re partners, 50-50.  We talk on the phone a lot to keep in touch.  That’s all I can say for now, but stay tuned in for upcoming developments.”

After awhile, talking on the telephone is not enough.

“Cosmo, what do you think of the idea of coming over here to work.  Couldn’t you write a program here just as well as from the States?”

“Theoretically—yes; reality— no,” Cosmo says.  “I need my computer network plus I need to work with my dad plus I need to be alone so I can concentrate.”

“You could stay at my place.  I have a living room.”

“Where would I sleep?”

“I have a pull-out”

“You mean like a pull-out sofa bed?”

“Yes.”

“How about your bed.”

“It’s occupied,” Layne says.

“Come on now.  You want me to come all the way to Australia and sleep on a pull-out sofa bed.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to do it,” Cosmo says.

After a brief pause, Cosmo says, “If I can sleep with you in your bed, I’ll come.”

“No.”

“I’ll keep working here then.  It’s just as well.  Anyway, I’ve decided to change the word “process” to “circle.” Inside the circle will be the people who have come to the meeting.  I’m staying with the original idea of surrounding the people inside the circle with the same impenetrable barrier that I’m using at ITER since it saves a bunch of coding, but I’m expanding it to surround whoever is in the circle.  I’m also going to provide modules for the people inside the circle.  One module I’ve developed is the “Take a Trip” module.  With this module, people inside the circle can share videos in complete safety.  Another module is “Play a Game” which allows gaming, any game, to be played by the people in the circle.  Again in complete safety from any external threat.

“Far out!”

“I’ve got a lot of coding left to do, so I won’t be able to talk to you everyday like we’ve been doing,” Cosmos says.

“That’s all right mate.  I understand.”

Cosmo hangs up.

Layne waits two days.  No call from Cosmo.  Layne call Cosmo.  No answer.  She sends him an e-mail.  No answer.  She messages him on Facebook.  No answer.

She waits a week and repeats the procedure.  No answer.

She waits another week and repeats the procedure.  No answer.  She gives up.

Six months pass with no word from Cosmo.  Layne doesn’t talk about him anymore on her shows.  She wonders if he thinks about her at all.  She thinks about him a lot and wishes she had said yes when she had the chance.  He should have understood that if he had come over she would have said yes.  It was too late now she knew, but she wished he would call just one more time.

Layne is excited about her guest this week, Malcom Wills, Australia’s premiere football player, but she is puzzled about his asking to be on her show.  She had met him several times in the past.  He had asked her out twice, but she knew he was a skirt chaser and had declined.  The audience stands up and applauds loudly as he comes on stage.

“It’s so good to see you again Malcom, or should I say Sir Malcom.  You were knighted by the Queen last month in recognition of your services to Football.”

“I don’t let something like that go to me head.  I’m still just a regular bloke.”

“What have you been doing now that football season is over?”

“Not much of anything.  I flew to New Orleans in the States for Mardi Gras.”

“Far out.  Was it exciting?”

“Too many people.”

“What else have you been doing?”

“I’ve been watching your show,”  Malcom says.

Layne is taken aback by this unexpected response.

“I’ve been watching your show to find out what happened to that American bloke you were going on about for so long — the internet bloke — the one that had some kind of program, NoParty or something like, that was going to make you both rich.  What happened to him?”

“It didn’t work out,”  Layne says evenly.

“He turned out not to be worth a brass razzo now didn’t he.”

Malcom is just about to say something more, when Layne sees a hand go up in the audience.  Then it goes down.  Then it goes up again.

“We have a question from the audience,”  Layne says, standing up and walking towards the audience.

She sees it’s a young girl.  “Stand up dear and tell us your name.”

“My name is Jane Paterson.”

“What’s you question, Jane?”

“My friends and I use NoParty when we go on a walkabout.”

A woman sitting next to the girl stands up.  “I’m Jane’s mum.  Jane is talking about the protection that surrounds the girls when they share trip videos on the internet.  I don’t worry about viruses and things like that as long as they are using NoParty.”

The woman pauses.  “I think I remember NoParty was the program you mentioned on your radio show.”

“Yes.  Yes it was,”  Layne says, trying to sound cheerful.  “Thank you both for being so helpful.”

Layne turns to the Production Director, “Ian, who do we have on call in?”

Ian says, “We have Kevin Morrison from Borroloola in the Northern Territory who wants to ask if Malcom is going to accept the Crows’ offer or if he is going to stay with the Cats.

“Put him on,”  Layne says.

The big studio screen comes to life with a picture of a middle-aged man.

“G’Day Malcom,”  the man says.

“G’Day,”  Malcom answers.

Static comes on the screen, distorting the picture, then the screen is blank.

Several seconds pass before the picture comes back.  This time the picture on the screen is an extraordinarily beautiful young woman.  The woman adjusts the camera and sits back in her seat.  Beside her is a hippie with long hair and a long beard.  He is wearing dark glasses and has his baseball cap turned backwards.

The woman takes off the man's baseball cap, puts it on her head, leans over, rubs the man's bald spot, and says, “He's my sugar daddy.”

Ian gives a signal to Layne that he is going to stop the interview.

Malcom leaps out of his chair, points his finger at Ian, and yells, “If you cut that picture you bogan, I’ll bust your head!”

The woman takes off the man's sunglasses and puts them on.

She looks at the man.  The man shrugs.

The woman takes off the man's wig and his beard.

Layne laughs.  “I knew it was you Cosmo.  Your ears gave you away.”

Layne pauses.  “Who is the wom— blon —your friend?”

“This is my sister, Kerri.”

Kerri waves and smiles.

“She volunteered to be my chaperone while I'm in Australia.”

Kerri reaches out and turns the camera.  The passengers in the packed airplane aisle are looking at Layne’s face on the overhead movie screen.  They are cheering and clapping.

Layne chuckles, her eyes narrow.  “You're going to need more than a chaperone mate."