Chapter 2

"Hey, Campbell," one of the techs waved his hand in front of the 3-D holographic screen. "We're goin' downstairs to grab a bite to eat. You hungry?"

He looked up, annoyed. "No."

"Suit yourself," the other man shrugged. He was only being polite anyway. His co-workers left the lab, leaving Holland Campbell staring at the code, trying to figure out where he had messed up.

Without question, Campbell was the smartest person in the company, if not on the entire east coast. His ideas weren't just brilliant, they were sometimes so far out of the box, they bordered on being downright crazy. Yet, they almost always worked. His research in the fields of biomechanics and nanotechnology were revolutionary.

He was also a rather odd man. Not in a strange way, but even though he held over two dozen patents of various cybernetic devices, he was decidedly old-fashioned. He eschewed optic or audio implants. He drove his own car. There was no droud implanted behind his ear that let him interface directly with a computer. He did it with voice-activation, a keyboard and sometimes hand-mounted pointers. Campbell even wore eyeglasses.

The company indulged his eccentricities and paid his outrageous fees because he needed their resources and they liked to make money. Holland Campbell was a brilliant—nay, visionary—computer engineer, but he was also a little scatter-brained. The company gave him the freedom to do what he wished. They funded his projects and whims. He got to do research and they got a share of his riches. Everyone benefitted.

Some of his co-workers joked—behind his back, of course—that he was more machine than human. While not socially inept, Holland was smarter than everyone else around him and they all knew it. He was neither exceedingly pompous nor arrogant, so rather than talk down to people, he often simply didn't talk at all. The other people in the lab had graduate degrees from the best schools in the country, but even they weren't up to his level.

That's why they often left him alone for lunch. He kept strange hours, sometimes working eighteen or twenty hours straight; other times he wouldn't show up for days. No one questioned him; even the company's project managers knew to let him be. He might take two years before producing anything, but you could bet that when he emerged from his lab, whatever it was he came up with would not only work, but would work well. And it made everyone around him very, very wealthy. It seemed he had the Midas Touch.

So Holland Campbell sat there, staring at the code, wondering what wasn't working. He didn't pay any attention to the stereovision as it updated the world on the latest news. Nor did he hear the doors to the lab open, or hear the soft footfalls of the woman who walked over to greet him.

It wasn't until she was standing behind her that he even registered another person in the room. He ignored her, thinking the gorgeous woman to be one of his labmates returning from lunch early.

After a few moments, she cleared her throat. Still, he did not look up.

"Excuse me," she said finally. Her voice was soft and melodic with just a touch of Castilian. "Mr. Campbell?"

He turned, his brow creased with just a hint of anger. Everyone knew not to bother him. His voice was curt. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Miriam Garcia," she said extending her hand. He didn't bother to take it. She continued, unfazed. "I was just assigned to this division and told to report to you."