I ask Li Ann. She’s launched apps before, and she knows how to raise money—after all, she’s the one who got all those bigwigs to fund Utopia’s endowment in the first place. Aside from running the selection committee, she spends her time on little side projects—“The afterworld is going to need a few frills,” she tells us. Right now she’s working on something she calls Spoken, a filter that scans emails to make sure the language isn’t accidentally triggering or offensive. “Everyone can sound woke,” she says. “No matter how old they are.”
Li Ann’s office faces west, with a full bank of windows overlooking the water. She sits behind a glass-topped desk looking like Nefertiti while two young men in identical polo shirts code furiously beside her.
When I knock on her door, she looks up and waves. “Please, come in, Asha. How’s the platform?”
“Slow, but we’re making progress.”
“I hear you’ve been pulling some late nights.”
“There’s a lot to do,” I begin. “We’re a little overwhelmed by the whole fundraising thing.”
“It’s a dark art,” she says, nodding.
“I think at some point we’re going to need to hire a few people.”
She claps. “Hiring! That’s exciting. I love the process of finding the right fit.” She looks over to her two manservants and beams.
“We just can’t afford it right now.”
“You know, there’s really no price tag on the right talent. It’s always worth it to get the very best.” Her phone pings. She picks it up, glances at it, puts it back down. “I know a good exec recruiter, you’d love her.”
“That’s great, thanks, Li Ann.”
“What does Cyrus say?”
“About the fundraising or the hiring?”
“Either.” She shrugs.
“Not very much, to be honest.” I laugh. “I’m still not sure he’s into it.”
I see her straighten. “Have you incorporated?” she asks, giving me a sideways glance.
“Excuse me?”
“Have you registered? Started an IP portfolio? Decided who owns what?”
“There’s nothing to own,” I say. “It’s just numbers, zeros and ones.”
“You’re joking, right?” Little points of red flash behind her dark brown eyes.
“We’re married,” I say, digesting my own lameness in real time. “But you’re right, of course. We should have a legal entity.”
She scrolls through her phone, and a few seconds later, I feel mine buzz. “I’ve sent you the name of a good lawyer. He won’t charge you—he’ll just take a few points to start with. I suggest you stop coding and get your house in order.” And then she waves me away with a flick of her hand, and she does it with such elegance that I don’t even mind.
* * *
When the lawyer asks me for basic information, I realize we don’t even have a website. I mean, I haven’t even Googled THE WAI to figure out how many weird iterations it will take to find a domain name that fits. Jules, Cyrus, and I argue the relative merits of www.thewai-faith.com （hated by Cyrus）， www.waiistheway.com （hated by me）， and www.ourwai.com （hated by all of us）。 Finally, we settle on www.thewai.io, and Jules throws up a splash page, and Cyrus spends an inordinate amount of time writing copy that is both too long and utterly opaque. I send the address to the lawyer, whose name is Barry, and we set off to meet him.
The law firm is intimidatingly shiny, with polished floors and a buttonless elevator. We wait in a boardroom, and when Barry appears, we all jump in our plush leather chairs. “So,” he booms, “you’re one of Li Ann’s companies. What’s this I hear about some kind of new religion?”
“Don’t you want some guarantee when the world ends?” Jules says. “A hedge of sorts?”
Barry nods. “I’ve got two hundred acres in New Zealand. That’s where I’m going when the shit hits the fan.”
“Well, we’re here for everyone else,” Cyrus says.
“What he means is, it’s not a religion, and it’s not a cult. It just occupies that space.” I’m wondering how many times I’ll have to explain this.
“Let me tell you how venture works,” Barry says. “They make ten investments. One is in the home-run column. Three go into the win column—and that means acquisition, even if they lose their shirts. The rest hit a wall and turn to dust before anyone can say achoo. As far as I can tell, you’re looking at option A or C.”