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leap forward. He reached over and turned Miss January’s photo to the wall, then picked up the phone and dialled his favourite brothel.
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    Matthias stepped onto the podium, his nervousness evaporating as he slipped into the role of performer. Despite a certain shame, as if such pleasures were by necessity furtive, he loved an audience. After a deep breath he leaned forward, searching for a face he knew, found one, focused on her then smiled.
The hook
. The journalist – a woman from
Le Monde
he’d once given an interview to, smiled back. With a flourish Matthias lifted the microphone off its stand.
    â€˜Superconductivity – the Holy Grail of energy!’ He paused dramatically, his voice booming off the curved wall. ‘It’s what we all aspire to, the ability to create limitless energy at room temperature. To play God. And Lord knows we could do with someone playing God in these godless times,’ he joked, parodying his own aggrandising, a tactic that helped win over the sceptics.
    â€˜As you are all aware, this has been what I have dedicated fifteen years of my life to, working towards designing a superconductor that can operate on a commercial scale at room temperature. A superconductor that would transform the energy industry practically overnight, introducing a whole new realm of plasma physics – from the creation of hypersonic speeds in super-fast bullet trains, to jets that will be able to span the globe in a matter of hours, to small generators that could potentially supply whole continents, to affordable space travel. I would argue that such a breakthrough is imperative for the future of mankind if we are going to be able to sustain the growth of both industry and the world population.’
    The audacity of his statement ignited a murmur that ran through the room, but this was exactly the effect he intended, a theatrical declaration that would make them sit up in their seats. Matthias paused, again running his gaze across the faces watching him – making it personal, as he milked the audience’s reaction.
    Three rows from the front Destin Viscon was watching closely – the physicist’s hubris, his obvious enjoyment of holding court, the blind confidence. The inside information he had was that von Holindt was indeed potentially only months, maybe weeks from achieving his goal, but how much was bluff to secure funding? Destin had already assessed the personnel attending – DARPA was there, as was Roche, as well as a rep from the leading UK weapons manufacturers. Von Holindt had serious interest, and Destin serious competition. The physicist’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
    â€˜I wish I could tell you I’d cracked the code – but I believe that pleasure is only months away. What I
can
tell you is that I have achieved a Meissner effect and reached superconductivity at twenty-five kelvin using a ceramic-based alloy. And that is what I intend to demonstrate today.’
    In front of him was a table with what appeared to be a child’s toy train track – a simple loop of conventional magnetic material joined together to make a track. Several toy trains, painted with the name of Matthias’s research company, sat beside a small flask of liquid helium. Matthias lifted one of the trains.
    â€˜Inside this train is a magnetic coil wrapped round the conducting alloy. I will now cool it to twenty-five kelvin with the liquid helium… Carefully he opened the flask of helium and spooned it into the tiny train, then placed it onto the track of conventional magnetic material. As expected the magnetic field, triggered by the superconductor within the train, reacted to the magnetism of the train track and the train hovered a good twenty millimetres over the track. With a push of his finger the train sped on its way round and round the loop, frictionless and magically hovering over the track. No matter how many times he demonstrated