There was a palpable air of excitement in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel’s Starlight Roof. It was so thick you could slice through it with a knife. The room had filled up and there was a bank of TV cameras from the major broadcasters lined up at the back of the auditorium like a firing squad. The lenses of the robotic cameras and the huge long-range microphones were aimed at center stage. Some of the cameras were going through an intricate computer-controlled dance routine of automatic panning, swooping and zooming.

The members of the audience had tired of admiring the ornate chandeliers, appraising the intricate artwork on the ceiling and perusing their itineraries. They had had enough of fiddling with their translation machines or gawking at the robots working the isles. A thousand whispers, murmurs, tête-à-têtes and polite conversations coalesced.

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