A Hologram for the King by Dave Eggers Read Free Book Online
Authors: Dave Eggers
impossible. Alan was sure there had been a mistake.
âYes, Mujaddid said. Your presentation will be made in the presentation tent. I trust you will find everything you need inside.
And he closed the door to the car, and was off.
Alan turned to Yousef.
âIâm sure you can leave now.
âYou have a way to get home?
âYeah, thereâs a van or something.
They settled on a price, and Alan paid him. Yousef wrote a string of digits down on a business card.
âIn case you miss the shuttle again, he said.
They shook hands.
Yousef raised his eyebrows at the tent.
âFull steam ahead, he said, and was gone.
VII.
I N THE TENT , Alan saw no one. The space was vast and empty, smelling of sweat and plastic. The floor was covered with Persian rugs, dozens of them overlapping. About thirty folding chairs were spread around as if there had been a wedding here and the guests had just left. A stage stood on one end of the tent, where Alanâs team would assemble the speakers and projectors.
In a far corner of the tent, shadowy and crouching, he could make out three figures, each staring into the grey screens of their laptops. He walked toward them.
âThere he is! a voice boomed.
It was Brad. He was in khakis and a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up. He stood to shake Alanâs hand, and did his best to bend the bones within. With his short, stocky build, legs almost bowed, he looked like a wrestling coach.
âHey Brad. Good to see you.
Rachel and Cayley rose. They had shed their abayas, and they greetedAlan barefoot, in shorts and tank tops. The tent was air-conditioned but had not reached anything like a comfortable level. All three young people were glistening.
They waited for Alan to say something. He had no idea what would be expected. He knew these young people only glancingly. They had met briefly, three months ago, in Boston, at the insistence of Eric Ingvall. Plans were made, and duties explained, timelines and goals. They had been given papers to sign, waivers required by the Kingdom, stating that they would all abide by the rules of the KSA, and that if they broke a law and were convicted, they were subject to the same punishments as anyone else. The waiver pointedly listed execution among the outcomes for certain crimes, including adultery, and they had all signed with a certain giddiness.
âYou guys doing okay out here? Alan asked.
He could manage nothing better. He was still trying to process the fact that they were all in a tent.
âItâs fine, but we canât get a wi-fi signal, Cayley said.
âWe get a faint one from the Black Box, Brad added, throwing his head toward the 7/24/60 office building that stood on higher ground. Theyâd already devised a nickname for it.
âWho put you in the tent? Alan asked.
Cayley answered. âWhen we got here, they said the presentations would be made here.
âIn a tent.
âI guess so.
âDid they say anything to you, Rachel ventured, about why, you know, weâre out here? As opposed to in the actual main building?
âNot to me they didnât, Alan said. Maybe all the vendors will beout here.
Alan had expected a dozen or so other companies, busy with preparations, frenzied activity in anticipation of a royal visit. But to be out here, alone, in a dark tent â Alan couldnât figure it out.
âI guess that makes sense, Rachel said, chewing the inside of her mouth. But weâre the only ones here.
âMaybe weâre just first, Alan said, trying to maintain some levity.
âJust weird being Reliant and being out here, right? Brad wondered. He was a company man, a thoroughly competent young person who had likely never, in his life thus far, had to depart from the playbook heâd been given and had memorized.
âThis is a new city. Uncharted territory, right? Alan said. You ask anyone about the wi-fi? he asked.
âNot yet, Cayley said. We figured
âYes, Mujaddid said. Your presentation will be made in the presentation tent. I trust you will find everything you need inside.
And he closed the door to the car, and was off.
Alan turned to Yousef.
âIâm sure you can leave now.
âYou have a way to get home?
âYeah, thereâs a van or something.
They settled on a price, and Alan paid him. Yousef wrote a string of digits down on a business card.
âIn case you miss the shuttle again, he said.
They shook hands.
Yousef raised his eyebrows at the tent.
âFull steam ahead, he said, and was gone.
VII.
I N THE TENT , Alan saw no one. The space was vast and empty, smelling of sweat and plastic. The floor was covered with Persian rugs, dozens of them overlapping. About thirty folding chairs were spread around as if there had been a wedding here and the guests had just left. A stage stood on one end of the tent, where Alanâs team would assemble the speakers and projectors.
In a far corner of the tent, shadowy and crouching, he could make out three figures, each staring into the grey screens of their laptops. He walked toward them.
âThere he is! a voice boomed.
It was Brad. He was in khakis and a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up. He stood to shake Alanâs hand, and did his best to bend the bones within. With his short, stocky build, legs almost bowed, he looked like a wrestling coach.
âHey Brad. Good to see you.
Rachel and Cayley rose. They had shed their abayas, and they greetedAlan barefoot, in shorts and tank tops. The tent was air-conditioned but had not reached anything like a comfortable level. All three young people were glistening.
They waited for Alan to say something. He had no idea what would be expected. He knew these young people only glancingly. They had met briefly, three months ago, in Boston, at the insistence of Eric Ingvall. Plans were made, and duties explained, timelines and goals. They had been given papers to sign, waivers required by the Kingdom, stating that they would all abide by the rules of the KSA, and that if they broke a law and were convicted, they were subject to the same punishments as anyone else. The waiver pointedly listed execution among the outcomes for certain crimes, including adultery, and they had all signed with a certain giddiness.
âYou guys doing okay out here? Alan asked.
He could manage nothing better. He was still trying to process the fact that they were all in a tent.
âItâs fine, but we canât get a wi-fi signal, Cayley said.
âWe get a faint one from the Black Box, Brad added, throwing his head toward the 7/24/60 office building that stood on higher ground. Theyâd already devised a nickname for it.
âWho put you in the tent? Alan asked.
Cayley answered. âWhen we got here, they said the presentations would be made here.
âIn a tent.
âI guess so.
âDid they say anything to you, Rachel ventured, about why, you know, weâre out here? As opposed to in the actual main building?
âNot to me they didnât, Alan said. Maybe all the vendors will beout here.
Alan had expected a dozen or so other companies, busy with preparations, frenzied activity in anticipation of a royal visit. But to be out here, alone, in a dark tent â Alan couldnât figure it out.
âI guess that makes sense, Rachel said, chewing the inside of her mouth. But weâre the only ones here.
âMaybe weâre just first, Alan said, trying to maintain some levity.
âJust weird being Reliant and being out here, right? Brad wondered. He was a company man, a thoroughly competent young person who had likely never, in his life thus far, had to depart from the playbook heâd been given and had memorized.
âThis is a new city. Uncharted territory, right? Alan said. You ask anyone about the wi-fi? he asked.
âNot yet, Cayley said. We figured
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