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Leagues away, in a one-room hut of mud and straw

Leagues away, in a one-room hut of mud and straw with a thatched roof and a smoke hole and a floor of hard-packed earth, Varamyr shivered and coughed

and licked his lips. His eyes were red, his lips cracked, his throat dry and parched, but the taste of blood and fat filled his

mouth, even as his swollen belly cried for nourishment. A child’s flesh, he thought, remembering Bump. Human meat. Had

he sunk so low as to hunger after human meat? He could almost hear Haggon

growling at him. “Men may eat the flesh of beasts and beasts the flesh of men, but the man who eats the flesh of man is an abomination.”

Abomination. That had always been Haggon’s favorite word. Abomination, abomination, abomination. To eat of

human meat was abomination, to mate as wolf with wolf was abomination, and to seize the body of another man was the

worst abomination of all. Haggon was weak, afraid of his own power. He died weeping and alone when I ripped his second life from him. Varamyr had

devoured his heart himself. He taught me much and more, and the last thing I learned from him was the taste of human flesh.

For example, there was the Piscine Deligny, the city’s oldestpool, dating back to 1796, an open-air barge moored to

theQuai d’Orsay and the venue for the swimming events of the1900 Olympics. But none of the times were recognized by theInternational Swimming Federation

because the pool was sixmetres too long. The water in the pool came straight from theSeine, unfiltered and unheated. “It

was cold and dirty,” saidMamaji. “The water, having crossed all of Paris, came in foulenough. Then people at the pool made it utterly disgusting.”

Inconspiratorial whispers, with shocking details to back up hisclaim, he assured us that the French had very low standardsof personal hygiene. “Deligny was bad

enough. Bain Royal,another latrine on the Seine, was worse. At least at

Delignythey scooped out the dead fish.” Nevertheless, an Olympic poolis an Olympic pool, touched by immortal glory. Though it

 

wasa cesspool,

Mamaji spoke of

Deligny with

a fond smile.

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“I say, Berta, thought you were going to do some work for that Mr.

“I say, Berta, thought you were going to do some work for that Mr. Howe of the Federal Service. Did it fall through?”

“Haven’t heard much more about it, Harv,” Roberta answered her brother, as she poured maple syrup over a serving of piping hot pancakes. Her mother

came in at that moment with a replenished bowl of oatmeal, and she paused with an anxious glance at her young daughter.

“Hope you do not hear anything more about it, dear. I feel that your activities in helping clear up the mystery at Lurtiss Field placed you in any number of

very dangerous situations. Being a pilot is hazardous enough10 without adding to the difficulties by running down air-gangsters of any kind,” she said soberly.

My suffering left me sad and gloomy.
Academic study and the steady, mindful practice of religionslowly brought

me back to life. I have kept up what somepeople would consider my strange religious practices. After oneyear of high school, I attended the University of

Toronto andtook a double-major Bachelor’s degree. My majors werereligious studies and zoology. My fourth-year thesis for religiousstudies concerned

certain aspects of the cosmogony theory ofIsaac Luria, the great sixteenth-century Kabbalist from Safed.

My zoology thesis was a functional analysis of the thyroid glandof the three-toed sloth. I chose the sloth because itsdemeanour – calm, quiet and

introspective – did something tosoothe my shattered self.

“Perhaps Mr. Howe has discovered that he does not require your services. In work of that nature very often, when men on the job think they have struck a

hard snag, something comes up suddenly which clears the matter so they do not require outside assistance,” remarked Mr. Langwell, then smiled at his

wife. “As a maker of pancakes, my dear, you draw

first prize. The only

drawback to such a

breakfast is a man’s

limited capacity.”

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I was at the Indian Coffee House, on Nehru Street.

I was at the Indian Coffee House, on Nehru Street. It’sone big room with green walls and a high ceiling. Fanswhirl above you to keep the warm, humid air

moving. Theplace is furnished to capacity with identical square tables,each with its complement of four chairs. You sit where youcan, with whoever is at

a table. The coffee is good andthey serve French toast. Conversation is easy to come by.

And so, a spry, bright-eyed elderly man with great shocksof pure white hair was talking to me. I confirmed to himthat Canada was cold and that French

was indeed spokenin parts of it and that I liked India and so on and soforth – the usual light talk between friendly, curious Indiansand foreign backpackers.

He took in my line of work witha widening of the eyes and a nodding of the head. It wastime to go. I had my hand up, trying to catch my waiterseye to get the bill.

Then the elderly man said, “I have a story that willmake you believe in God.”I stopped waving my hand. But I was suspicious. Wasthis a Jehovah’s Witness

knocking at my door? “Does yourstory take place two thousand years ago in a remote cornerof the Roman Empire?” I asked.

“No.”Was he some sort of Muslim evangelist? “Does it takeplace in seventh-century Arabia?””No, no. It starts right here in Pondicherry just a fewyears

back, and it ends, I am delighted to tell you, in thevery country you come from.””And it will make me believe in

Jobs’s objections to the cloning program were not just economic, however. He had an inbred aversion to it. One of his core principles was that hardware

and software should be tightly integrated. He loved to control all aspects of his life, and the only way to do that with computers was to

take responsibility

for the user

experience

from end to end.

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Ma Teng’s reply was, “the Imperial Protector of Yuzhou, Liu Bei.

In A Plum Garden, Cao Cao Discusses Heroes;
Using The Host’s Forces, Guan Yu Takes Xuzhou.

“Who is it?” was the question on the lips of the conspirators.

Ma Teng’s reply was, “the Imperial Protector of Yuzhou, Liu Bei. He is here and we will ask him to help.”

“Though he is an uncle of the Emperor, he is at present a partisan of our enemy, and he will not join,” said Dong Cheng.

  “But I saw something at the hunt,” said Ma Teng. “When Cao Cao advanced to acknowledge the congratulations due to the Emperor, Liu Bei’s sworn brother Guan Yu was behind him, and grasped his sword as if to cut down Cao Cao. However, Liu Bei signed to him to hold his hand and Guan Yu did. Liu Bei would willingly destroy Cao Cao, only he thinks Cao Cao’s teeth and claws are too many. You must ask Liu Bei, and he will surely consent.”

  Here Wu Shi urged caution, saying, “Do not go too fast. Let us consider the thing most carefully.”

  they dispersed. Next day after dark Dong Cheng went to Liu Bei’s lodging taking with him the decree. As soon as Dong Cheng was announced, Liu Bei came to GREet him and led him into a private room where they could talk freely. The two younger brothers were there as well.

  “It must be something unusually important that has brought Uncle Dong Cheng here tonight,” said Liu Bei.

  “If I had ridden forth by daylight, Cao Cao might have suspected something, so I came by night.”

  Wine was brought in, and while they were drinking, Dong Cheng said, “Why did you check your brother the other day at the hunt, when he was going to attack Cao Cao?”

  Liu Bei was startled and said, “How did you know?”

  “Nobody noticed but I saw.”

  Liu Bei could not prevaricate and said, “It was the presumption of the man that made my brother so angry. Guan Yu could not help it.”

  the visitor covered his face and wept.

  “Ah,” said he, “if all the court ministers were like Guan Yu, there would be no sighs for lack of tranquillity.”

  Now Liu Bei felt that possibly Cao Cao had sent his visitor to try him, so he cautiously replied, “Where are the sighs for lack of tranquillity while Cao Cao is at the head of affairs?”

Dong Cheng changed color and rose from his seat.

“You, Sir, are a relative of His Majesty,

and so I showed you my inmost feelings. Why did you mislead me?”

But Liu Bei said, “Because I feared you might be misleading me,

and I wanted to find out.”

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The Pirates Abandon ShipUpon his return from Europe in August

The Pirates Abandon ShipUpon his return from Europe in August 1985, while he was casting about for what to do next, Jobs called the Stanford biochemist Paul Berg to discuss the advances that were being made in gene splicing and recombinant DNA. Berg

described how difficult it was to do experiments in a biology lab, where it could take weeks to nurture an experiment and get a result. “Why don’t you simulate them on a computer?” Jobs asked. Berg replied that computers with such capacities were too expensive for university labs. “Suddenly, he was

excited about the possibilities,” Berg recalled. “He had it in his mind to start a new company. He was young and rich, and had to find something to do with the rest of his life.”

Jobs had already been canvassing academics to ask what their workstation needs were. It was something he had been interested in since 1983, when he had visited the computer science department at Brown to show off the

Macintosh, only to be told that it would take a far more powerful machine to do anything useful in a university lab. The dream of academic researchers was to have a workstation that was both powerful and personal. As head of the

Macintosh division, Jobs had launched a project to build such a machine, which was dubbed the Big Mac. It would have a UNIX operating system but with the friendly Macintosh interface. But after Jobs was ousted from the

Macintosh division, his replacement, Jean-Louis Gassée, canceled the Big Mac.

When that happened, Jobs got a distressed call from Rich Page, who had been engineering the Big Mac’s chip set. It was the latest in a series of

conversations that Jobs was having with disgruntled Apple employees urging him to start a new company and rescue them. Plans to do so began to jell over Labor Day weekend, when Jobs spoke to Bud Tribble, the original Macintosh

software chief, and floated the idea of starting a company to build a powerful but personal workstation. He also enlisted two other Macintosh division employees who had been talking about leaving,

That left one key vacancy on the team: a person who could market the new product to universities. The obvious candidate was Dan’l Lewin, who at Apple had organized a consortium of universities to buy Macintosh computers in bulk. Besides missing two letters in his first name, Lewin had the chiseled

good looks of Clark Kent and a Princetonian’s polish. He and Jobs shared a bond: Lewin had written a Princeton thesis on Bob Dylan and charismatic leadership, and Jobs knew something about both of those topics.

 

the engineer

George Crow

and the controller

Susan Barnes.

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More than three thousand people showed up at the event, lining up

More than three thousand people showed up at the event, lining up two hours before curtain time. They were not disappointed, at least by the show. Jobs was onstage for three hours, and he again proved to be, in the words of

Andrew Pollack of the New York Times, “the Andrew Lloyd Webber of product introductions, a master of stage flair and special effects.” Wes Smith of the Chicago Tribune said the launch was “to product demonstrations what Vatican II was to church meetings.”

Jobs had the audience cheering from his opening line: “It’s great to be back.” He began by recounting the history of personal computer architecture, and he promised that they would now witness an event “that occurs only once or

twice in a decade—a time when a new architecture is rolled out that is going to change the face of computing.” The NeXT software and hardware were

designed, he said, after three years of consulting with universities across the country. “What we realized was that higher ed wants a personal mainframe.”

As usual there were superlatives. The product was “incredible,” he said, “the best thing we could have imagined.” He praised the beauty of even the parts unseen. Balancing on his fingertips the foot-square circuit board that would

be nestled in the foot-cube box, he enthused, “I hope you get a chance to look at this a little later. It’s the most beautiful printed circuit board I’ve ever seen in my life.” He then showed how the computer could play speeches—he

featured King’s “I Have a Dream” and Kennedy’s “Ask Not”—and send email with audio attachments. He leaned into the microphone on the computer to record one of his own. “Hi, this is Steve, sending a message on a pretty historic day.” Then he asked those in the

audience to add

“a round of applause”

to the message,

and they did.

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To Jobs’s delight, Akers replied, “How would you like to help us?”

To Jobs’s delight, Akers replied, “How would you like to help us?” Within a few weeks Jobs showed up at IBM’s Armonk, New York, headquarters with his software engineer Bud Tribble. They put on a demo of NeXT, which impressed

the IBM engineers. Of particular significance was NeXTSTEP, the machine’s object-oriented operating system. “NeXTSTEP took care of a lot of trivial

That was too much for Jobs, at least for the time being. He cut off the clone discussions. And he began to cool toward IBM. The chill became reciprocal. When

the person who made the deal at IBM moved on, Jobs went to Armonk to meet his replacement, Jim Cannavino. They cleared the room and talked

one-on-one. Jobs demanded more money to keep the relationship going and to license newer versions of NeXTSTEP to IBM. Cannavino made no commitments,

and he subsequently stopped returning Jobs’s phone calls. The deal lapsed. NeXT got a bit of money for a licensing fee, but it never got the chance to change the world.

programming chores that slow down the software development process,” said Andrew Heller, the general manager of

IBM’s workstation unit, who was so impressed by Jobs that he named his newborn son Steve.

The negotiations lasted into 1988, with Jobs becoming prickly over tiny details. He would stalk out of meetings over

disagreements about colors or design, only to be calmed down by Tribble or Lewin. He didn’t seem to know

which frightened him more, IBM or Microsoft. In April Perot decided to play host for a mediating session at his Dallas

headquarters, and a deal was struck: IBM would license the current version of the NeXTSTEP software, and if the

managers liked it, they would use it on some of their workstations. IBM sent to Palo Alto a 125-page contract. Jobs tossed it down without reading it. “You

don’t get it,” he said as he walked out of the room. He demanded a simpler contract of only a few pages, which he got within a week.

Jobs wanted to keep the arrangement secret from Bill Gates until the big unveiling of the NeXT computer, scheduled for October. But IBM insisted on

being forthcoming. Gates was furious. He realized this could wean IBM off its dependence on Microsoft operating systems. “NeXTSTEP isn’t compatible with anything,” he raged to IBM executives.

At first Jobs seemed to have pulled off Gates’s worst nightmare. Other computer makers that were beholden to Microsoft’s

operating systems, most notably Compaq and Dell, came to ask Jobs for the right to clone NeXT and license NeXTSTEP. There were even

offers to pay a lot more

if NeXT would get

out of the hardware

business altogether.

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Their first substantive disagreement was over how to price

Their first substantive disagreement was over how to price the Macintosh. It had been conceived as a $1,000 machine, but Jobs’s design changes had pushed up the cost so that the plan was to sell it at $1,995. However, when

Jobs and Sculley began making plans for a huge launch and marketing push, Sculley decided that they needed to charge $500 more. To him, the marketing costs were like any other production cost and needed to be factored into the price.

atmosphere. In the front of the meeting room, Jobs sat on the floor in the lotus position absentmindedly playing with the toes of his bare feet. Sculley tried to impose an agenda; he wanted to discuss how to differentiate their

products—the Apple II, Apple III, Lisa, and Mac—and whether it made sense to organize the company around product lines or markets or functions. But the discussion descended into a free-for-all of random ideas, complaints, and debates.

perfect for Apple, and Apple deserves the best.” He added that never before had he worked for someone he really respected, but he knew that Sculley was the person who could teach him the most. Jobs gave him his unblinking stare.

Sculley uttered one last demurral, a token suggestion that maybe they should just be friends and he could offer Jobs advice from the sidelines. “Any time you’re in New York, I’d love to spend time with you.” He later recounted the

climactic moment: “Steve’s head dropped as he stared at his feet. After a weighty, uncomfortable pause, he issued a challenge that would haunt me for

days. ‘Do you want to spend the rest of your life selling sugared water, or do you want a chance to change the world?’”

Sculley felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. There was no response possible other than to acquiesce. “He had an uncanny ability to always get

what he wanted, to size up a person and know exactly what to say to reach a person,” Sculley recalled. “I realized for the first time in four months that I couldn’t say no.” The winter sun was beginning

to set. They left the

apartment and walked

back across the

park to the Carlyle.

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The fun and profits came to an end at a Sunnyvale pizza

Following the lead of other phone phreaks such as Captain Crunch,

they gave themselves handles. Wozniak became “Berkeley Blue,”

Jobs was “Oaf Tobark.” They took the device to college dorms and

gave demonstrations by attaching it to a phone and speaker. While the

 

potential customers watched, they would call the Ritz in London or a dial-a-joke service in Australia.

“We made a hundred or so Blue Boxes and sold almost all of them,” Jobs recalled.

 

The fun and profits came to an end at a Sunnyvale pizza parlor. Jobs and Wozniak

were about to drive to Berkeley with a Blue Box they had just finished making. Jobs

needed money and was eager to sell, so he pitched the device to some guys at the next table.

They were interested, so Jobs went to a phone booth and demonstrated it with a call to Chicago.

The prospects said they had to go to their car for money. “So we walk over to the car, Woz and me,

and I’ve got the Blue Box in my hand, and the guy gets in, reaches under the seat, and he pulls out a gun,”

Jobs recounted. He had never been that close to a gun, and he was terrified. “So he’s pointing the gun right at

my stomach, and he says, ‘Hand it over, brother.’ My mind raced. There was the car door here, and I thought

maybe I could slam it on his legs and we could run, but there was this high probability that he would shoot me.

So I slowly handed it to him, very carefully.” It was a weird sort of robbery. The guy who took the Blue

Box actually gave Jobs a phone number and said he would try to pay for it if it worked. When Jobs later called

the number, the guy said he couldn’t figure out how to use it. So Jobs, in his felicitous way, convinced the guy

to meet him and Wozniak at a public place. But they ended up deciding not to have another encounter with

the gunman, even on the off chance they could get their $150.

The partnership paved the way for what would be a bigger adventure together. “If it hadn’t been for the

Blue Boxes, there wouldn’t have been an Apple,” Jobs later reflected. “I’m 100% sure of that. Woz and

I learned how to work together, and we gained the confidence that we could solve technical problems and

partnership that would soon be born. Wozniak would be the gentle wizard coming up with a neat invention

that he would have been happy just to give away, and Jobs would figure out how to

make it user-friendly,

put it together

in a package, market it,

and make a few bucks.

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The Atari experience helped shape Jobs’s approach

The Atari experience helped shape Jobs’s approach

to business and design. He appreciated the

user-friendliness of Atari’s insert-quarter-avoid-Klingons

 

games. “That simplicity rubbed off on him and made him

a very focused product person,” said Ron Wayne. .

Jobs also absorbed some of Bushnell’s take-no-prisoners attitude.

“Nolan wouldn’t take no for an answer,”

 

“I would rather let it pass,” he said when I pressed the point.

“It’s not something I want to judge Steve by.”

 

 

He confirmed his memory with Nolan

Bushnell and Al Alcorn. “I remember

talking about the bonus money to Woz,

 

and he was upset,” Bushnell said. “I said yes,

there was a bonus for each chip they saved,

and he just shook his head and

then clucked his tongue.”

 

In addition to their interest in computers,

they shared a passion for music.

“It was an incredible time for music,”

 

 

Jobs recalled. “It was like living at a time when

Beethoven and Mozart were alive. Really. People

will look back on it that way. And Woz and I were

 

deeply into it.” In particular, Wozniak turned Jobs

on to the glories of Bob Dylan.

 

“We tracked down this guy in Santa Cruz who put

out this newsletter on Dylan,” Jobs said. “Dylan

taped all of his concerts, and some of the people

 

around him were not scrupulous, because soon

there were tapes all around. Bootlegs of everything.

And this guy had them all.”

 

Hunting down Dylan tapes soon became a joint

venture. “The two of us would go tramping through

San Jose and Berkeley and ask about Dylan bootlegs

 

and collect them,” said Wozniak. “We’d buy brochures

of Dylan lyrics and stay up late interpreting them.

Dylan’s words struck chords of creative thinking.”

 

Added Jobs, “I had more than a hundred hours,

including every concert on the ’65 and ’66 tour,”

the one where Dylan went electric. Both of them

 

bought high-end TEAC reel-to-reel tape decks.

“I would use mine at a low speed to record many

concerts on one tape,” said Wozniak.

 

Jobs matched his obsession:

“Instead of big speakers I bought a pair

of awesome headphones and would just

 

lie in my bed and listen to that stuff for hours.”

Jobs had formed a club at Homestead High to

put on music-and-light shows and also play

 

pranks. (They once glued a gold-painted toilet

seat onto a flower planter.) It was called the

Buck Fry Club, a play on the name of the principal.

 

Even though they had already graduated, Wozniak

and his friend Allen Baum joined forces with Jobs,

at the end of his junior year, to produce a farewell

 

gesture for the departing seniors. Showing off the

Homestead campus four decades later, Jobs paused

at the scene of the escapade and pointed. “See that

 

balcony? That’s where we did the banner prank that

sealed our friendship.” On a big bedsheet Baum had

tie-dyed with the school’s green and white colors,

 

they painted a huge hand flipping the middle-finger

salute. Baum’s nice Jewish mother helped them draw

it and showed them how to do the shading and

 

shadows to make it look more real.

“I know what that is,” she snickered. They devised a

system of ropes and pulleys so that it could be

 

dramatically lowered as the graduating class

marched past the balcony, and they signed it

“SWAB JOB,” the initials of Wozniak and Baum

combined with part of Jobs’

s name. The prank
became part of school
lore—and got Jobs
suspended one more time.
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