"You see," Larraby said, "the possibilities are limitless. As I said, the science will be there soon. But how do you power these devices in the body? That's been the bottleneck to the research. It's been a question that has been out there for a long time."
"And we think the answer is our recipe," Pierce said. "Our formula."
Silence again. He looked at Goddard and knew he had him. The saying is, don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes. Pierce could see the whites now. Goddard had probably been in the right place at the right time and gotten in on a lot of good things over the years. But nothing like this. Nothing that could make him money down the line —plenty of it —and also make him a hero. Make him feel good about taking that money.
"Can we see the demonstration now?" Bechy asked.
"Absolutely," Pierce said. "We have it set up on the SEM."
He led the group to what they called the imaging lab. It was a room about the size of a bedroom and contained a computerized microscope that was built to the dimensions of an office desk with a twenty-inch viewing monitor on top.
"This is a scanning electron microscope," Pierce said. "The experiments we deal with are too small to be seen with most microscopes. So what we do is set up a predetermined reaction with which we can test our project. We put the experiment in the SEM's vault and the results are magnified and viewed on the screen."
He pointed to the boxlike structure located on a pedestal next to the monitor. He opened a door to the box and removed a tray on which a silicon wafer was displayed.
"I'm not going to get into specifically naming the proteins we are using in the formula but in basic terms what we have on the wafer are human cells and to them we add a combination of certain proteins which bind with the cells. That binding process creates the energy conversion we are talking about. A release of energy that can be harnessed by the molecular devices we were talking about earlier. To test for this conversion, we place the whole experiment in a chemical solution that is sensitive to this electric impulse and responds to it by glowing. Emitting light."
While Pierce put the experiment tray back in the vault and closed it, Larraby continued the explanation of the process.
"The process converts electrical energy into a biomolecule called ATP, which is the body's energy source. Once created, ATP reacts with leucine —the same molecule that makes fireflies glow. This is called a chemiluminescent process."
Pierce thought Larraby was getting too technical. He didn't want to lose the audience. He gestured Larraby to the seat in front of the monitor and the immunologist sat down and began working the keyboard. The monitor's screen was black.
"Brandon is now putting the elements together," Pierce said. "If you watch the monitor, the results should be pretty quick and pretty obvious."
He stepped back and ushered Goddard and Bechy forward so they would be able to look over Larraby's shoulders at the monitor. He moved to the back of the room.
"Lights."
The overheads went off, leaving Pierce happy that his voice had returned enough to normal to fall within the audio receptor's parameters. The blackness was complete in the windowless lab, save for a dull glow from the gray-black screen of the monitor. It was not enough light for Pierce to watch the other faces in the room. He put his hand on the wall and traced it to the hook on which hung a set of heat resonance goggles. He unhooked them and pulled them over his head. He reached to the battery pack on the left side and turned the device on. But then he flipped the lenses up, not ready to use them.
He had put the goggles on the hook that morning. They were used in the laser lab but he had wanted them here in imaging because it would allow him to secretly watch Goddard and Bechy and gauge their reactions.
"Okay, here we go," Larraby said. "Watch the monitor."
The screen remained gray-black for almost thirty seconds and then a few pinpoints of light appeared like stars through a cloudy night sky. Then more, and then more, and then the screen looked like the Milky Way.
Everyone was silent. They just watched.
"Go to thermal, Brandon," Pierce finally said.
Part of the choreography. End with a crescendo. Larraby worked the keyboard, so adept that he did not need any light to see the commands he was typing.
"Going thermal means we'll see colors," Larraby said. "Gradations in impulse intensity, from blue on the low end to green, yellow, red and then purple on the high end."
The monitor screen came alive with waves of color. Yellows and reds mostly, but enough purple to be impressive. The color rippled in a chain reaction across the screen. It undulated like the surface of the ocean at night. It was the Las Vegas strip from thirty thousand feet.
"Aurora borealis," someone whispered.
Pierce thought it might have been Goddard's voice. He flipped down the lenses and now he was seeing colors, too. Everyone in the room glowed red and yellow in the vision field of the goggles. He focused in on Goddard's face. The gradations of color allowed him to see in the dark. Goddard was intently focused on the computer screen. His mouth was open. His forehead and cheeks were deep red —maroon going to purple —as his face heated with excitement.
The goggles were a form of scientific voyeurism, allowing him to see what people thought they were hiding. He saw Goddard's face break into a wide red smile as he viewed the monitor. And in that moment Pierce knew the deal was done. They had the money, they had secured their future. He looked across the darkened room and saw Charlie Condon leaning against the opposite wall. Charlie was looking back at him, though he didn't have on any goggles. He looked out into the darkness toward where he knew Pierce would be standing. He nodded once, knowing the same thing without needing the goggles.
It was a moment to savor. They were on their way to becoming rich and possibly even famous men. But that wasn't the thing for Pierce. It was something else, something better than money. Something he couldn't put in his pocket but he could put in his head and his heart and it would earn interest measured in pride at staggering rates.
That's what the science gave him. Pride that overcame everything, that took back redemption for everything that had ever gone bad, for every wrong turn he had ever made.
Most of all, for Isabelle.
He slipped off the goggles and hung them back on the hook.
"Aurora borealis," Pierce whispered quietly to himself.
29
They ran two more experiments on the SEM using new wafers. Both lit up the screen like Christmas and Goddard was satisfied. Pierce then had Grooms go over the other lab projects with him once more just to finish things off. After all, Goddard would be investing in the whole program, not just Proteus. At 12:30 the presentation ended and they broke for lunch in the boardroom. Condon had arranged for the meal to be catered by Joe's, a restaurant on Abbot Kinney that had the rare combination of being a hot place and also having good food.
The conversation was convivial —even Bechy seemed to be enjoying herself. There was a lot of talk about the possibilities of the science. No talk about the money that could be made from it. And at one point Goddard turned to Pierce, who was sitting next to him, and quietly confided, "I have a daughter with Down's syndrome."
He said nothing else and didn't have to. Pierce knew he was simply thinking about the timing. The bad timing. A future was coming when such maladies might be eliminated before they occurred.
"But I bet you love her very much," Pierce said. "And I bet she knows that."
Goddard held his eyes for a moment before answering.
"Yes. I do and she does. I often think about her when I make my investments."
Pierce nodded.
"You have to make sure she is secure."
"No, not that. She is secure, many times over. What I think about is that no matter how much I make in this world, I won't be able to change her. I won't be able to fix her. . . . I guess what I am saying is that . . . the future is out there. This . . . what you are doing . . ."
He looked awa
y, unable to put his thoughts into words.
"I think I know what you mean," Pierce said.
The quiet moment ended abruptly with a loud outburst of laughter from Bechy, who was sitting across the table and next to Condon. Goddard smiled and nodded as though he had heard whatever it was that had been so funny.
Later, during a dessert of key lime pie, Goddard brought up Nicole.
"You know who I miss?" he said. "Nicole James. Where is she today? I'd like to at least say hello."
Pierce and Condon looked at each other. It had been agreed earlier that Charlie would handle any explanations in regard to Nicole.
"Unfortunately, she is no longer with us," Condon said. "In fact, last Friday was her last day at Amedeo."
"Really now? Where did she go?"
"Nowhere at the moment. I think she's just taking some time to think about her next move. But she signed a no-compete contract with us, so we don't have to worry about her showing up at a competitor."
Goddard frowned and nodded.
"A very sensitive position," he said.
"It is but it isn't," Condon replied. "She was focused outward not inward. She knew just enough about our projects to know what to look for in regard to our competitors. For example, she did not have lab access and she never saw the demonstration you saw this morning."
That was a lie, only Charlie Condon didn't know it. Just like the lie Pierce had fed Clyde Vernon about how much Nicole knew and had seen. The truth was she had seen it all.
Pierce had brought her into the lab on a Sunday night to show her, to light up the SEM screen like the aurora borealis. It was when things were falling apart and he was desperately grasping for a way to keep it together, to hold on to her. He had broken his own rules and taken her to the lab to show her what it was that had drawn him away from her so often. But even showing her the discovery had not worked to stop the momentum of destruction that had enveloped them. Less than a month later Nicole ended the relationship.
Like Goddard, Pierce missed Nicole at that moment, but for different reasons. He grew quiet during the remainder of the meal. Coffee was served and then removed. The plates and utensils were cleared away until all that was left was the polished surface of the table and the reflection of their ghostly images in it.
The caterers cleared out of the room and it was time to get back to business.
"Tell us about the patent," Bechy said, folding her arms and leaning over the table.
Pierce nodded to Kaz and he took the question.
"It's actually a stepped patent. It's in nine parts, covering all processes related to what you saw today. We think we have thoroughly covered everything. We think it will hold up to any kind of challenge, now or in the future."
"And when do you go with it?"
"Monday morning. I'll be flying out to Washington tomorrow or Saturday. The plan is to personally deliver the application to the U.S. Patents and Trademark Office at nine A.M.
Monday."
Since Goddard was sitting next to him, Pierce found it easier and more nonchalant to watch Bechy across from him. She seemed surprised by the speed with which they were moving. This was good. Pierce and Condon wanted to force the issue. Force Goddard to make his move now, or risk losing out by waiting.
"As you know, it's a highly competitive science," Pierce said. "We want to make sure we get our formula on the books first. Brandon and I have also completed a paper on this and will be submitting it. We'll send it out tomorrow."
Pierce raised his wrist and checked his watch. It was almost two.
"In fact," he said, "I need to leave you and get back to work now. If anything further comes up that Charlie can't answer, you can reach me in my office or in the lab. If there is no answer down there, that means we have the phone cut off because we're using one of the probes."
He pushed back his chair and was getting up when Goddard raised his hand and grabbed his upper arm to stop him.
"One moment, Henry, if you don't mind."
Pierce sat back down. Goddard looked at him and then deliberately cast his glance into every face at the table. Pierce knew what was coming. He could feel it in the tightness of his chest.
"I just want to tell you while we're all here together that I want to invest in your company. I want to be part of this great thing you are doing."
There was a raucous cheer and a round of clapping. Pierce put out his hand and Goddard shook it vigorously, then took Condon's hand that was stretched across the table.
"Nobody move," Condon said.
He got up and went to a corner of the room where there was a phone on a small table. He punched in three numbers —an in-house call —and murmured something into the receiver. He then returned to his seat and a few minutes later Monica Purl and Condon's personal assistant, a woman named Holly Kannheiser, came into the boardroom carrying two bottles of Dom Pérignon and a tray of champagne glasses.
Condon popped the bottles and poured. The assistants were asked to stay and take a glass.
But both also had throwaway cameras and had to take photos in between sips of champagne.
Condon made the first toast.
"To Maurice Goddard. We're happy to have you with us on this magical ride."
Then it was Goddard's turn. He raised his glass and simply said, "To the future!"
He looked at Pierce as he said it. Pierce nodded and raised his almost empty glass. He looked at each face in the room, including Monica's, before speaking. He then said: "Our buildings, to you, would seem terribly small. But to us, who aren't big, they are wonderfully tall."
He finished his glass and looked at the others. Nobody seemed to get it.
"It's from a children's book," he explained. "Dr. Seuss. It's about believing in the possibilities of other worlds. Worlds the size of a speck of dust."
"Hear, hear," Condon said, raising his glass again.
Pierce began moving about the room, shaking hands and sharing words of thanks and encouragement. When he came to Monica she lost her smile and seemed to treat him coldly.
"Thanks for sticking it out, Monica. Did you talk to Charlie yet about your transfer?"
"Not yet. But I will."
"Okay."
"Did Mr. Renner call?"
He purposely didn't use the word detective in case someone in the room was listening to their conversation.
"Not yet."
He nodded. He couldn't think of what else to say.
"There are some messages for you on your desk," she told him. "One of them, the lawyer, said it was important but I told her I couldn't interrupt your presentation."
"Okay, thanks."
As calmly as he could, Pierce went back to Goddard and told him he was being left in Condon's hands to work out the investment deal. He shook his hand again and then backed out of the boardroom and headed down the hallway to his office. He wanted to run but he kept a steady pace.
30
Lights."
Pierce slid in behind his desk and picked up the three message slips Monica had left for him. Two were from Janis Langwiser and were marked urgent. The message on both was simply "Please call ASAP." The other message was from Cody Zeller.
Pierce put the messages back down on his desk and considered them. He didn't see how Langwiser's call could be anything other than bad news. To come from the high of the boardroom to this was almost staggering. He felt himself getting overheated, even claustrophobic. He went over to the window and cranked it open.
He decided to call Zeller back first, thinking that maybe his friend had come up with something new. His page to Zeller was returned in less than a minute.
"Sorry, dude," Zeller said by way of greeting. "No can do."
"What do you mean?"
"On Lucy LaPorte. I can't find her. I got no trace, man. This chick doesn't even have cable."
"Oh."
"You're sure that's her legal name?"
"That's what she told me."
"Is she one of the girls from the
website?"
"Yeah."
"Shit, you should have told me that, dude. They don't use their real names."
"Lilly Quinlan did."
"Well, Lucy LaPorte? That sounds like a name somebody dreamed up after watching A
Streetcar Named Desire. I mean, look at what she does. The chances of her telling the truth about something, even her own name, are probably one in —"
"It was the truth. It was an intimate moment and she told me the truth. I know it."
Chasing the Dime Page 25
