So, thanks to this breakthrough technology, our Excalibur GTX3 will be able to travel up to twenty times further than current models of even the highest-priced devices.” I use the controls to raise the height at which the prototype hovers over the room. “It is also able to maintain altitude with up to ten pounds attached, without affecting the distance it can travel.”

I scan the front row, pointedly meeting Weissman’s gaze before looking to the person seated beside him. “Would you do me the honor of assisting me in this demonstration?”

The woman smiles, smoothing down her pencil skirt before standing. I wave her over to me, still with the controls in my hand, and point to the gallon of milk on the floor. I’ve been flying the drone for over ten minutes now with fifteen minutes being the longest a presentation can run. The prototype seems to be doing just fine. You did it, Sam. You did it. I don’t dare raise my eyes up in her direction, but I hope she feels the pride I do.

“Could you please confirm that this carton is full and not empty?” I ask, flashing her my most winning smile.

She bends, lifting the carton, and nods. “It’s full of milk,” she confirms with a laugh.

A general rumble of laughter spreads over the room.

“Now, would you be so kind as to hook it onto the bottom of the Excalibur GTX3?” While she’s doing this, I turn to the audience. “A gallon weighs approximately eight-point-three-five pounds. Short of our ten-pound limit, but you get the idea.”

More good-natured laughter.

Now, for the real challenge. I thank the volunteer and raise the drone again, this time flying it out over the crowd.

They react with squeals, shouts and laughter as they cover their heads, hoping not to get caught in a milk shower should the drone fail.

It doesn’t fail.

My fifteen minutes are nearly up, and it’s with a sense of joy and pride that I conclude it with, “The Excalibur GTX3 will revolutionize the way online retailers deliver products to the homes of their faithful customers. Same-day delivery no longer has to be nothing more than a pipe dream for many. It can now be a reality for a greater number of retailers and customers than ever before. Thank you so much for attending Guardian Technologies’ presentation. I’ll be available for questions after the other presentations are complete.”

The crowd responds with resounding applause which rings in my ears long after I’ve brought the drone backstage with me. Only now, can I breathe a sigh of relief, my legs are suddenly as weak as they were when I ran a marathon. I might as well have run it, come to think of it. This entire process has been just about as grueling.

Where’s Ryland? I look around, finally finding him lurking deep in the shadows. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as distressed as he does. What did he expect? He has to know that Sam’s work was successful. The work which did not carry the alteration.

A smile quickly takes the place of distress. “You did it, buddy,” he rejoices, clapping a hand over my shoulder. “You did it.”

“We did it,” I correct him. Though, I don’t mean him. I mean Sam and me. The drone would’ve crashed and burned if it hadn’t been for her tireless efforts. “But we’re not out of the woods yet. We still have to see how Arcane does.”

“We came first,” he reminds me.

And he’s right, for once. We went first. They’ll remember us, no matter how Arcane’s demonstration goes.

And it’s up next.

After a few minutes go by, I don’t even know where Ryland is as Weissman’s employee gets started. He’s probably lurking somewhere, watching from another angle, unwilling or unable to be too close to me when it’s all on the line like this. A shame, because I would like to watch his reaction should the drone fail.

I look out over the crowd and it’s obvious they’re scratching their heads, wondering why they feel like they’ve seen this before. Not that Weissman was stupid enough to lift the verbiage of our presentation or anything, but the technology is literally the same. “That’s right,” I whisper, watching with a smirk. “You’ve seen this before. They’re thieves. Unoriginal hacks.”

The digital clock mounted to the floor at the edge of the stage reads eight minutes. The drone is still in-flight. Doubt wraps itself around my heart. Is it going to succeed, after all? Did Ryland clue into the way Sam lied to him? Did she lie, or was that all a story to throw me off-track?

Have I been unfairly accusing my best friend ever since last night?

Nine minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Jesus Christ. Sam lied.

I look towards the back where she was standing and she’s no longer there. I stare at Weissman’s drone in a daze. I was so sure of Sam. My heart feels as if it is being chewed up.

Suddenly, a voice fills the auditorium. A voice I’ve dreamed about. I twist my head in the direction of it.

Sam is standing at the edge of the stage holding a mike. “That’s all great,” she says. “Now, let’s see how this drone does when it is not flying, but has to hover for more than ten minutes.”

Weissman’s team starts looking at each other in consternation.

The crowd starts murmuring.

“Go on, show us how your drone will perform if it is forced to hover and not fly.”

Someone in the audience speaks up, “Yes, let’s see that function work.”

Weissman’s team has no choice but to comply. They let their drone hover.

At nine-and-fifteen, I hear it. A spark. And I’m not the only one, as several of the people close to where the drone currently hovers start looking nervous. A few cover their heads with their arms. Nobody is laughing, as they were when I dangled a gallon of milk over their heads.

A spark becomes a small flame, which becomes a bigger flame. Panic begins to spread as people jump from their seats, climbing over each other and running for the doors as the drone plummets in a cloud of smoke and fire. Panicked screams fill the room faster than the smoke.

“What is this?” Weissman bellows, jumping up in outrage.

I know what it is. It’s just desserts.