Chapter 25: Still Trying

We were at the Palio d'Asti in San Francisco, a warm and inviting locale for someone raised on my mother's cooking. We had offered to meet Dr. Porter Burgess for a lunch appointment anywhere he chose, and this was the place he'd selected.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Burgess. Please, don't bother getting up." I told the middle-aged man waiting for us when we were shown to our table. I shook his hand. "Please allow me to introduce my wife, Doctor Virginia McKesson." I introduced, as she came past me to shake his hand as well.

"Please sit!" He said, waiving us into the padded bench seat against the wall. "I remember what it was like when my wife was pregnant, a soft cushioned seat was a sought-after commodity."

Our waiter already had our drink orders, so he left us as soon as we were seated and we were alone with the infamous Doctor Porter Burgess, PhD.

"Not that I would ever refuse a lunch offer at the Palio, especially these days, but what can I do for the famous director of Obsidian Research?" He opened.

"Perhaps its better asked, what might we do for each other." I countered.

"Well short of the enjoyment I might get by being poked and prodded by the very beautiful Doctor McKesson, I can't imagine what you can do for me, any less than I could imagine why Obsidian Research would be interested in a Cosmologist with six months to live?"

"What would you say if I told you we could increase your life expectancy by at least a year?"

"Ooh! A whole year!" He laughed. "The last quack I talked to in Guadalajara offered me five years! And I know for a fact that the good doctor McKesson can't open her mouth about such possibilities without fear of loosing her license."

"Although I have not seen either the diagnosis, nor the prognosis of the physicians attending you, I am familiar with the inoperable nature of the the tumor that is killing you, and I am not offering any kind of medical advice here, I'm here as my husband's partner." Ginny replied. "I can tell you that what is offered is not surgery and it is not some new miracle drug. It is real, as is the life expectancy improvement."

"What do I have to do for Obsidian Research to receive this 'whatever-it-is' that's not a medical treatment." Doctor Burgess asked.

"Come to work for us. Sign a non-disclosure agreement, then look me in the eye and swear to honor it. Do that and we'll sign you to a lifetime contract with a five million dollar guaranteed advance on earnings."

"That's insane!" He said. "Who'd ever make an offer like that?"

We were interrupted by the waiter returning with our drinks. We placed our meal orders and waited for the waiter to leave again.

"You're aware of the resources we can bring to bear on anything we're interested in pursuing." I told him. "We are making money hand over fist and we haven't even begun to see the conversion of the personal automobile industry yet, and we both know it is inevitable."

"I can't dispute that, but..."

"But despite the unlikeliness of it, Obsidian Research does have something that you will love sinking your teeth into, whether you live 6 months or six centuries." I interrupted. "We are interested in having someone with your knowledge and skills, particularly your combination of degrees in Cosmology and Planetary Science. We are interested enough to pay you enough money up front to get your wife and children instantly clear of the massive debt your medical treatment has placed them under. Enough to let your wife live on in your home for the rest of her life if she chooses. Enough to send your children through college after you're gone, if that is their desire."

"Think about it over the rest of our lunch together Doctor." Ginny said. "I will add only one thing more. You will someday come to see the incredible nature of this offer as insignificant compared to what you learn and where you learn it."

Ginny excused herself to visit the ladies room. Despite recent protestations to the contrary, the pressure on her bladder was beginning to have its effect.

Our lunches were being served when she returned, and we wasted no time digging in. Doctor Burgess had ordered the Soup of the Day, which was a delicious Minestrone Genovese, while Ginny and I had the Insalata degli Frutti Stagionali a beautiful Stonefruit Salad of Peaches, Plums, Cherries, Butter Lettuce, Arugula, Red Onions, Almonds, Pecorino Pepato and Champagne Nectarine Vinaigrette. For the main course, Ginny and I had both chosen the Cacciucco Livornese, a spicy Tuscan stew with red wine and tomatoes, lobster, mussels, clams, prawns, octopus, calamari and fish. Doctor Burgess had the Gnocchi con Pesto Genovese, which had house-made potato dumplings, baby green beans and a Ligurian Sauce of basil, pine nuts, garlic, pecorino, grana padano and extra virgin olive oil. Needless to say, there was little conversation beyond appreciative murmurs and the occasional ahhh! Of satisfaction. "Mr. And Mrs' McKesson," The Doctor began, once the dishes had been cleared, and we were sipping our tea and coffee. "I have absolutely no reason, beyond the desire to be remembered as a stubborn curmudgeon, to refuse your offer. As a loving husband and father, I cannot permit myself to say no. I will accept your offer."

"When can you start?" I asked.

"Sir, I am at your disposal." He said with all the dignity he could muster.

"Very well," I said, pulling the standard Obsidian Research NDA from the inside pocket of my jacket. "If you'll look this over and sign it?" I placed a pen on the table along with the form.

"This is your standard document for non-disclosure?"

"Yes, it is." I answered. He signed it immediately.

"I only ask that you look me in the eye and promise to honor what you just signed."

"I swear to you, and to all I hold dear that whatever I learn in this capacity, I will carry to my grave unrevealed if that is your wish." He looked me unflinchingly in the eye as he said it.

Of course I was reading the truth of his oath in his thoughts. This man understood honor, and had an amazing mind! It was going to be a pleasure working with him!

"Well said sir. Will you want your lawyer to look over the contract before you sign it?" I pulled the contract out of my other inside pocket.

"I should, but I"m feeling adventurous. Lets get it done. I'm eager to see whether you can deliver on your promise to amaze me."

As we each took turns signing the contract, Ginny jumped on her cell phone and called a waiting Grandpa A.J. She spoke briefly with him, too quietly to be heard, before hanging up, out of the corner of my eye I saw her give me a small nod. Of course all that, phone call included, had been something of a charade. All the real communication had taken place within our thoughts.

With both our signatures in place, I returned the two documents to the inside pocket of my jacket and reached out to take his hand.

"You will want to go home and explain what is going on to your family. Call your bank. They'll want to share the news that five million dollars has been transferred into your account. Pack a bag, just your necessaries and a change of clothes, nothing fancy, we do not run a suit and tie environment. Enjoy the evening with your family, and someone will be by your house in the morning at 9am to pick you up."

"Would you like us to arrange dinner reservations for you and the family somewhere? Your celebration tonight should be on us!" Ginny offered.

"Do you think I could get a dinner reservation here for this evening on such short notice?" He asked. "This really is the place I've always wanted to be able to bring them."

"Sweetie, why don't the two of you walk out and get some fresh air out front. I'll see what I can arrange. Would 7pm be a good time Doctor?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, of course."

While we stood on the busy sidewalk, in the shadow of the TransAmerica pyramid, waiting for Ginny, I discovered that the good doctor was planning to catch a ride home via the San Francisco transit system. I immediately offered him a ride.

Ginny was out shortly, and wearing a very big smile.

"They didn't have anything free at seven except for banquet rooms, so I've reserved one for you. You can invite up to 8 other friends or family, in addition to the wife and kids. Its on Obsidian Research."

Way to go Ginny! I do love my wife's style!

We dropped Porter, as he now insisted we call him at his home in Bernal Heights. We refused to come in and meet the family, telling him we would meet them at a later date. We had to promise him it would happen before he would let us go.

"Well, we have our cosmologist." I said as we were driving out of San Francisco, headed back to Obsidian Research. "You're going to love Porter's mind too!"

"This recruiting scheme was an interesting approach. Can we afford to keep using it in order to get the scientific staff we've been wanting?"

"Blossom, the way the fuel cell is making us money, we could afford to spend that much out of our own pocket every day and our financial guys wouldn't blink an eye. This is Obsidian Research funds were spending here, and those pockets make our personal one seem meager by comparison."

"Could we really spend that much every day without missing it?" Ginny asked.

"I guess that is an exaggeration. We could spend that much every day for a while before the money guys started to complain, but not indefinitely."

"How much could we spend every day and be able to do it indefinitely? We should be doing something charitable with that money if its something we wouldn't even miss."

"I appreciate that kind of thinking, and there is something to be said for it. I think though we need to keep things where they are for the time being. Between the two of us, we are already giving somewhere between 10 and 15 percent of our after tax income to charitable causes. The problem with continually donating all the surplus in our pocket is that we can't ever scale up the magnitude of what we're doing beyond personal giving."

"I can understand that. I should have known we were already doing something, but to be honest it is nice to be able to ignore the finances and just do what we do."

"It sure is, and if I had it in my power to do, I'd make it that way for everyone in the world. Since I can't, I think the world is better served by my efforts to make the world a place where it is increasingly easy for everyone to do that for themselves."

<Dave, Ginny, is your meeting concluded?> Con thought to us.

<Yes Con, what's up?> We thought back.

<Are you able to join me in the Hall?> He asked.

Gianni Sabarte was our driver this trip, so we would have no problem jumping directly from the car. I told Gianni what was going on and Ginny and I were gone and in the Hall on Obsidian in the blink of an eye.

"Greetings!" We heard from Con the moment we arrived. "Do I have a surprise for the Legion today!"

I looked at the workbench behind him. The displays were all dark, the projectors shut down, and the bench top itself was completely cleared off except for a single square case.

"Are you trying to keep us in the dark, Con?"

"Oh yes, you need to stay in the dark, definitely. Way more fun that way!" With that, he picked up the square case from the workbench, grabbed his free wrist, and was gone!

I laughed out loud into the now empty Hall, and jumped us after him!

As we blinked into being in the Staging level of the basement, I saw Con and the rest of the Legion laughing, presumably at my expense.

"Last ones to arrive, isn't that refreshing!" I said to everyone.

Once we joined them where they stood clustered around Con, I gave him a raised eyebrow and said

"You had something else Con?"

"Yes, of course, thank you Dave." Con said, stepping slightly away and turning to face us. He waved at the room around him.

"You've all seen that we have made some effort to keep the obvious 'mission' side of this facility separate from the 'home' side of it. This was by conscious design of course, but it was done mostly so we would have a sense of being home that wasn't necessarily also a reminder of work."

A lot of nods and ah!'s followed this, as obviously not everyone had come to the same conclusions about our layout and design choices.

"Given the realities of life as we've discovered them to be in the short time we've been operating within it, the choices were perhaps a bit of overkill. Agreed Dave?"

"Yes, I've come to that same conclusion." I sighed.

"For that reason, I'm proposing this next surprise gets done upstairs, not downstairs. Elevator or Davey Express?"

"Davey Express!" Everyone chimed in. So I popped us into the living room without so much as a blink.

"My next consideration was more aesthetic than practical, but it does have its practical applications." Con said, and with that he pulled an orange tube from the case he'd brought with him. "Please remain where you are for a moment he cautioned."

Con walked over to stand in front of the fireplace, and rotated the entire round end of the tube in a clockwise direction. We all saw a light begin to glow on the base of it where he had twisted. He quickly uncapped the other end of the tube to reveal a small nozzle tip. He walked up to the stone fireplace and squeezed out a stream of gray paste, laying down a line that ran up one side of the fireplace, across the stones above the mantle, and back down the other side. He completed this procedure by stepping back and rotating the round end back to its original position, and when he did, the gray paste suddenly seemed to sink right into the stone and disappear!

"This accomplishes step one of the process. Next I had to pick a good second location, and for that, I've chosen one in Dave's house. If you'd be so kind, Dave?" Con was looking smugger by the second, but I was enjoying this myself, so I just played along, and to save time just popped us all into my bedroom.

I guess I had never tried to fit so many people in it before. We packed it!

"Perfect!" Con cried out. "This is the very location I was considering. Please open the bedroom door, whoever is standing closest to it."

We actually had to all shift a little out of the way to let the door swing open.

Once the door was open, Con asked some of us to step out into the hallway. I gave Mom a quick shout out to make sure we didn't scare her.

<Mom! We're all upstairs, don't freak out if you hear us making noise, okay?>

<Not an issue Davey, I'm over at the Parkin's with Mary!> She thought back. Oops, teach me not to check first!

With the door open and some of us in the hall, Con had room to work. He reached once again into the case and brought out a blue tube. The cap on the base end got twisted clockwise until the light came on. With the cap removed from the nozzle end, Con ran this tube around the edges of the door frame as he squeezed. Once again the gray paste seemed to disappear into the wood when he rotated the cap back at the end.