Undo | Page 7

to optimism, a proud eccentricity, a character-building battle scar of sorts. I suppose that's just how we fragile beings adapt to unrealized expectations, dashed hopes. Still, having just completed my new novel, I'm all juiced up and feeling groovy, raring to give it another go - after all, it's all anyone who decides to try to make a living telling stories can do...try, try again.
Will "Undo" ever find its way between the sheets of pulpy paper and glossy covers? Will it ever find its way onto the big screen, or, if I had my choice, the little screen? And, perhaps most important of all, does this novel really matter to anyone besides me? The first two questions I have no way of knowing the outcomes of - both are in Fate's all-knowing hands and only time will tell.
As for that last question, whether this novel matters to anyone besides me, I can only answer by saying I hope so.
What you're about to read is a novel I have labored over for a very long time. It gives me great pleasure to hand it over, once and for all, to you, gentle reader, whoever, and wherever you are. I hope you like it.
Joe Hutsko [email protected] January, 1996
PROLOGUE
It was once a sprawling flatland, dominated by fruit tree orchards and nestled safely between protective hills.
This tranquil scene slowly vanished as trees were felled, concrete poured, and new seeds planted, each the size of a large beetle and filled with thousands of microscopic circuits, sown by a new breed of farmer, with dreams of growing the future.
The new electronic produce, capable of performing millions of calculations in the blink of an eye, was harvested.
The new technology farmland: Silicon Valley.
Viewed from high above, the Valley looks like a schematic drawing of the very seeds from which it has grown, thousands of technology orchards, connected by the roads and highways etched into the golden surface of the land.

Chapter 1
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PART I

Chapter 1
As he guided the black BMW coupe onto Highway 280, Matthew Locke felt as though his mind was spinning as quickly as the wheels propelling him onward. Whether the one functioned as precisely as the other did not occur to him.
Appraising his position, he wondered why there were so few cars to contend with this afternoon. Having lived in Northern California for more than two years, he had never headed home on 280 without confronting ricocheting tail lights, jockeying for position in the fast lane. Bright sunlight and warm air rushed through the sunroof and windows as he gained speed and activated the cruise control upon reaching sixty-five miles per hour.
Then Matthew noticed the clock, and he remembered he was two hours ahead of the commuter traffic that congested the highway every day. He also remembered why.
He took a few deep breaths to relax his nerves. He had tried one last time, to no avail, to compromise with Peter Jones, the stubborn young founder of Wallaby Computer, Incorporated.
Matthew Locke did not want things to end like this. Not exactly. But there was no alternative. The confrontation that had just taken place was more like a vicious counseling session between a distressed married couple than a meeting between two senior executives of the decade's most important and innovative high technology company.
Matthew had informed his secretary Eileen that he was walking over to Peter Jones's office to try to talk with him one last time about the upcoming board of directors meeting. As Matthew neared Peter's building, his anxiety sharpened. He paused for a moment and thought about his place at that very instant, standing at the very center of the Peter Jones legacy. Surrounding Matthew were a number of Spanish-style, single-story buildings, each painted white and topped with a red tile roof. What began as a seedling idea in a garage nearly a decade ago had blossomed into the cluster of buildings stretching a quarter-mile in either direction from where he stood, and even farther, to a number of locations throughout the world. And now he was on his way to the epicenter of this campus-like complex that was Wallaby Computer. Matthew arrived from his journey west with the feeling that he had entered a fairy tale, so full of wonder was this place. But now, as he resumed his step along the gently curving sidewalk that ran up either side of the block, he felt as though the set were changing. Full of dread, he approached the end, and the beginning, of the rainbow, where he would confront the man "Time" magazine called the "Computer Wizard."
Peter's secretary cut short her phone conversation the moment she saw Matthew.
"Peggy, is Peter in?"
Before she could respond, Peter's own voice answered from behind him. "No!"
Matthew turned just in time to see Peter's office door slam shut. He knocked gently.
"Nobody's home,"