Hamza leaned forward.
“They didn’t deserve five million dollars. But they got it anyway, and nothing ever happened to them. There was no karmicjustice. They lived their lives, they were total shits to everyone around them, and next year, another five million bucks.”
He leaned back and speared his own chunk of steak, popping it into his mouth, almost angry. He chewed, swallowed, then pointedhis fork across the table.
“You’re in shock, Will. It makes sense. Change can be tough, and what’s happened to you . . . to us . . . it’s seismic, asfar as life events go. You’ll get used to it—but the biggest step you can take in that direction is to stop looking for somemeaning in the predictions. You’re stuck on this whole destiny thing, but there is no such thing as destiny. What happens,happens.
“My dad used to say it all the time. He was always frustrated by the way people in the States have this assumption, this moralcertainty that there’s some bigger plan. It sure as hell wasn’t that way for him and my mom back in Pakistan. For them, lifewas chaos. None of us are meant for anything, and none of us are meant for nothing. Life is chaos, but it’s also opportunity,risk, and how you manage them. If you’re smart, you get this . . .”
He gestured at the table, laden with expensive delights.
“If you’re not, you don’t. There’s nothing else to it.”
Will swirled his fork through his creamed spinach, considering. Hamza took a sip of wine, not taking his eyes off his friendacross the table.
“The numbers, though,” Will said.
“Numbers?”
“Twenty-three, twelve, four. The last prediction, if that’s what it is.”
“Come on, man,” Hamza said, a little edge creeping into his voice. “You don’t have any evidence that those numbers mean anything. You’ve gotta work with what you know, not with what you feel.”
“Uh-huh. But if there’s no higher purpose to all this, then I’m just some asshole musician who got really lucky. If the predictionsdon’t mean anything, then neither do I.”
“Fuck that,” Hamza said. “If you’re rich, you matter. That’s the world we live in. And we are both very rich, no matter whathappens. Don’t . . . don’t self-sabotage.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” Will said.
“I don’t know,” Hamza said. “I hope not. I did notice that you put three new predictions up on the Site, though.”
Will looked up.
“Yeah. Innocuous stuff.”
“But the third one . . . about Hosiah Branson,” Hamza said.
“Yeah,” Will said. “You’ve heard the things he says about me. And I had a prediction about him—seemed too perfect not to use.”
Will ate another bite of steak, chewing very deliberately. Defensively.
“Branson doesn’t say things about you, Will,” Hamza said. “He says them about the Oracle. We don’t want to let things getpersonal. Ever. We just sold a prediction for half a billion dollars. I’m not sure it makes sense to just give them away anymore.The Site’s served its purpose. It’s not Facebook. We don’t have to keep updating it.”
Will frowned. Hamza’s worst quality was his tendency to explain.
“I know I’m just a stupid bass player, Hamza, but give me a little credit, all right? I think I can tell when a prediction’sworth something,” he said. “And besides, how much money do we actually need? When are we going to stop?”
“When we have enough that it literally does not matter how we got it. Even if we eventually get exposed as the people behindthe Site, we’ll have enough so that we’re totally bulletproof.”
“How much is that?”
“More than we have right now. I’m making plans, though,” Hamza said. “It’s keeping me busy. Money means work. Shell corporations,multiple accounts, the whole bit. It’s one thing to have a few billion in offshore accounts, but making it accessible at yourlocal ATM is complicated. The couple hundred thousand I got you might be it, at least for a little while.”
Will considered this.
“Did you talk to the Florida Ladies?” he said. “They might be able to help. That’s what we pay them for, right?”
Hamza frowned.
“I’m not going to involve them any more than we already have. I’m sure they’re wonderful, and worth every penny of the excessivefees they charge us, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather they didn’t know our bank account numbers. I’m on it, Will.I’m taking care of it.”
An uncomfortable pause.
“Anyway,” Will said.
“Anyway,” Hamza agreed. “It’s not all bad. I paid off the credit cards I’ve been running up since I quit the bank, and mystudent loans. Miko’s, too. Not that sexy, but, goddamn, it felt good.”
Will finished his glass of wine. He stared fixedly at the bottom of the glass.
“How did you explain the money? Is she still asking questions?”
“No, Will. She’s just accepting that Providence has blessed her brilliant husband with millions of dollars. Of course she’sasking questions.”
“What are you telling her?”
“I’m telling her that you and I are getting a lot of VC money in, which is more or less true. She doesn’t believe it, butwe’ve got sort of an unspoken pact. She loves me, right? And she knows I love her. If I don’t want to tell her what I’m doing,then she trusts me enough to know that there’s a good reason, and that I’ll tell her the truth when I can.
“But,” he added, “that won’t last forever. And I don’t want it to. It’s this growing thing between us.”
Will looked at his friend.
“I get it, Hamza. But the more people that know . . .” He lowered his voice. “I’m the Oracle, right? I take the hit if peoplefind out who I am. I know you’ll have to tell Miko eventually, but we’re almost out. We’ll sell a few more predictions, getbulletproof, like you said, and then the Oracle disappears. Then you can tell her. Yeah?”
Hamza hesitated briefly, then nodded. He refilled Will’s wineglass and topped off his own. He raised it in a toast.
“Enough with the recriminations and all that bullshit. This is a celebration, man. To
