Bit.0

1989

The toast was slightly blackened as it popped out of the yellow toaster. Margo sighed. The television blared in the other room.

“Daniel,” she shouted, as she slid the knife into the butter crock. “For the third time, breakfast is ready!”

“I’m coming, Mom!” Daniel auto-responded. “It’s the best part!”

“Every part is the best part,” Margo muttered under her breath. She then focused her ears on the sounds from the television, and mouthed the words of the next quote. “Yippie-kay-yay, motherfucker.”

Daniel breezed into the room, dressed in jeans and a white tank top. He slid into his seat at the kitchen table and immediately stuffed a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He glanced from the small container of ketchup to his white shirt and picked up the container with his other hand.

“If I used this on my shirt, I could make it look like John McClane after he gets banged up,” he announced, excitedly. "It might look a little more realistic if I mixed in some barbecue sauce though.” He turned his attention to the refrigerator door, questioning the inventory options for fake blood.

“That’s certainly smart, Daniel,” Margo said, not allowing the teenager to see her roll her eyes. “But we’re not ruining perfectly good shirts to cover them in fake blood. You have to go to school today, you know. Your brother and sisters already left with Dad.”

Daniel returned the ketchup dish to the table, discouraged. “It’s so boring at school, Mom. Everything the teachers are talking about is for fourth-graders. It’s too easy for ninth grade.”

Margo smiled. “We’ve gone over this already, though. We talked about it with Dad and with your teachers, remember? We all agreed you shouldn’t skip ahead and graduate early because you decided you didn’t want to. But that means it might be boring sometimes because you already know most of this stuff. But that was the deal. Right? Now you need to go get changed for school.”

“Right.” Daniel agreed. He stood up and pushed his last bite of burnt toast into his mouth and winced slightly at the taste. “Come out to the toast, we’ll have a few laughs” he snickered as he left the room.

1995

Daniel’s hands were clenched with excitement. He had been waiting in the booth for only a few minutes when Jodi arrived. She immediately smirked when she saw his excitement but remained silent as she sat down across from him.

It was lunchtime, though diner was uncharacteristically empty, as most of the students had already left for winter break. There were a few other patrons seated at the bar, and the television had been set to CBS, a rerun of last week’s episode of David Letterman.

“Well?” Daniel asked, unable to continue to wait to hear her answer. Jodi nodded at his chest, noting the image of Hans Gruber falling from the skyscraper. “You wore that on purpose?”

Daniel grinned. Jodi rolled her eyes in response. “Come on,” he added, as he took her hand on top of the table. “I need to know what you thought of it.”

Jodi smiled and squeezed his hand. “I thought it was good,” she said simply, as she opened a menu with her other hand. Daniel stared at her as he waited for an additional sentence, which didn’t come.

“It was good?” he repeated, stunned. “That’s it? Die Hard is a good movie?”

Jodi released his hand to turn to the lunch specials. “Yes,” she responded, her eyes fixated on the menu. “It was good. I can see why you like it.”

Daniel slumped back in his seat as the waitress arrived to take their order. Jodi ordered a chef’s salad with a side of fries, while Daniel said he’d stick to coffee.

Jodi put the menu back in the holder on the table and began to organize the sugar packets. “How did it go with the Clemmons exam?” she asked. “I was talking to Cindy this morning and she told me that eight people in her class got F’s! How could Clemmons do that right at the end of the semester?!”

Daniel leaned forward in his seat. “I got an A. Did you think it was a Christmas movie? There has been a lot of debate over if it’s to be considered a holiday movie.”

“An A!” Jodi exclaimed. “That test was supposed to be really hard. That’s why I keep saying that you shouldn’t be in this program. It’s all too easy for you.”

“I thought you would really like the inclusion of Beethoven. That’s one of the parts where it’s argued about being a Christmas movie too, because of the ‘Merry Christmas’ line in the middle of that scene. Did you catch the song?”

“Our next guest is a wonderful new comedian making his first television appearance, who has already been making rounds in the local comedy clubs for the last few months. When we come back, we’ll welcome...” David Letterman signed off to the next commercial break on the television.

Jodi leaned forward and sighed. “I recognized the song. I liked it. I understand this movie means a lot to you; it just doesn’t mean the same to me. I’m trying to talk to you about your future, are you listening? I think you should really consider what you’re going to do after graduation next year, and I think it would be a huge waste if you didn’t start applying to graduate schools in a field that uses more of your talents than marketing does. You could really work toward a dream.”

The waitress returned to fill Daniel’s coffee mug. He glared silently at Jodi while she poured the coffee, and forced a nodding smile to her as she left. “Your food will be right out, hon,” she added to Jodi.

Daniel pointed at the television as David Letterman returned from the commercial break and the comedy guest had taken the stage. “That’s the dream I want to work toward, Jodi. I’ve told you this a hundred times. I don’t want to study quantum mechanics or go into a scientific engineering program. I don’t want to become a doctor or a surgeon. I want to make some money, study something I can do as a backup, and then pursue a career in comedy. That’s the end of it.”

2006

“Thank you all for coming right before the holidays,” Daniel started, as he made his way to the head of the conference table. His ten guests were already seated around the glass table, some had partaken in the assorted pastries and beverages he had requested the hotel have available in the locked meeting room.

“I’ll try to keep this brief so that we can all get back to our families,” he continued, as he unbuttoned his jacket and took his seat. “In front of each of you is a packet. The information that is contained within same, as well as anything we discuss in this meeting is not to leave this room, or be discussed with anyone outside of this group. Did you all sign the confidentiality agreements when you arrived?”

Craig, a man seated to the right of Daniel stood up and extended his hand to Daniel. “It’s nice to see you again, Daniel,” his Australian accent was strong as they shook hands. “I collected all of the agreements from everyone when I arrived. All have been signed, including mine.” He slid the stack of agreements to Daniel.

“Excellent,” Daniel smiled. He quickly flipped through the stack and silently counted. Assured, he continued. “You have all been asked here because of our experiences together in the coding and or financial world. I want to take these worlds, combine them, and move forward into something that hasn’t been seen before. In the packets in front of you, you will find detailed information I have researched and theorized that I believe can be effective if everyone in this room is involved. I believe we have the capability to create the next phase of currency. I believe we together can create a new cryptocurrency.”

The guests all glanced through the detailed information in their packets as Daniel proceeded with his pitch. “In the event that we are successful, I want to maintain a level of total anonymity. If we are able to do what I think we can, we will all benefit from keeping ourselves unknown to the public, so as to spare ourselves and our families from the unwanted attention. I personally have other plans for my own career after this endeavor, and I would like to keep those plans achievable without the influence of money.”

“When does your special air?” Craig asked, as he flipped a page in the packet.

“Not until June,” Daniel answered. “They are going to release it sometime mid-June or possibly even July, though it was already filmed. It was a lot of fun.”

“That’s great,” Craig smiled. “Ramona and I will be sure to watch. Keep me posted.”

Daniel turned his attention back to the packet. “What I would like to do, is form a corporation that would allow us to work on creating this product, without allowing our personal information to be connected to it. I have outlined the details of the company formation for A Secret Organization on page six of the packet.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” the man at the opposite end of the table chimed in. Daniel nodded in his direction. “How was the weather in old big ben, Adam?”

“Not that I’m not interested in going back to a looming blizzard,” Adam laughed. “But the palm trees were a nice change of scenery for me when I landed this morning. What do you want to call the company?”

“A Secret Organization,” Daniel answered. “Okay,” Adam continued. “Sorry. What name do you want to give a secret organization?”

Daniel smirked. “Just that. ASO for short, Adam. The name of the company would be A Secret Organization, or ASO. I think that if we got started at the beginning of next year, we would be able to be looking at a timetable of finishing the product by 2008.”

2009

A stack of newspapers had been left in Daniel’s dressing room by one of the assistants earlier in the day. As he pulled his t-shirt over his head, he flipped one to the finance section, and smiled as he read the headline. “Seven Months Later, Satoshi Nakamoto True Identity Still Unknown.”

Alex entered after two short knocks. “They are almost ready for you, D, but Charlie says you can’t wear that shirt.”

Daniel pulled on the bottom hemline of the shirt and looked from the image of Nakatomi Plaza back to Alex, as he shook his head. “What? On the first go I can’t shout out to my favorite movie?”

Alex laughed. “Sorry. Something to do with the rights. You’ll have to ask him for the specifics. He just told me to tell you to change and not to argue about it.”

Alex’s gaze paused on the newspaper pile, and nodded in its direction. “Do you think they’ll figure out who that guy really is? I bet he’s a billionaire by now.”

Daniel smirked. “I bet. But I doubt anyone will. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to be known either.”

Alex smiled back and left the room. “Ten minutes,” she added as she closed the door.

Daniel flipped through the pre-approved shirts that were hanging up next to the door, and selected a black graphic t-shirt with a gray sweatshirt. He recalled the ASO meeting from the end of September, just before they had finished and released the Bitcoin paper.

“Everything is all set to go as planned,” Craig had proudly announced. They had met in the same room as their initial meeting, both because of convenience to the airport, but as a sort of nod to how they all began working together. Daniel had thought it would be nice to have their final preparation meeting take place in the same spot.

“All that’s left is to figure out the formatting of the cover page. We need to figure out the byline. Do you want to just put ASO as the author?”

Daniel shook his head as he reviewed different templates for the cover page. “I think it would be better received if we have a name. I like the idea of a pseudonym.”

“I don’t mind if we put my name on it, just to share,” Craig added, hopeful. Daniel shook his head again. “I still think we need to keep our identities confidential, sorry. But I also think it’s funny if we use something that isn’t real. Can you imagine everyone trying to figure it out?”

Adam laughed lightly. “You have something in mind already, don’t you?”

Daniel walked to the whiteboard he had requested for the meeting room. He wrote silently.

“Satoshi Nakamoto,” Adam read off the words as Daniel wrote them, confused by the choice. “I know we’re all from different parts, Dan, but none of us are Japanese.”

Daniel glanced quickly at Adam, and then back to the white board. “That’s part of the beauty of it,” he explained. “If everyone is looking for someone with Japanese heritage, it’ll make us all the less likely to be candidates. But the real beauty of this name is it’s an anagram for a couple of things.”

Daniel pointed out the letters as he spoke. “ASO is included for our company, even though if someone figured that out and looked up our articles of incorporation, they’d never be able to link it back to the identity of anyone in this room. Then I’ve added in Nakatomi. For those of you who have still ignored my pleas to watch Die Hard, Nakatomi Plaza is the fictional building from it, where I wish we had been able to hold these meetings. And the last four letters I used are my last name so it’s easy, but not in order so it’s unlikely to be pieced together.”

Alex’s double knock hit the door a second time. “Show time!” she yelled. Daniel unzipped the sweatshirt and followed her to the stage.

The clapperboard dropped and the red light signaled Daniel to begin. Daniel allowed for the clap track to play as he moved his hands to motion for the audience to calm down.

“Welcome to Tosh.0. This is our first show.”