ahead of all these academic guys.”
“I don’t think so, Owens.” But this talk disturbed Noah. Could industry do all that? He’d always believed the majority of science was hands, experiments, one by one, deciding what needed to go next in the chain. Making discoveries, not using them. After all, Genesis didn’t find LCSF. Somebody else did and they took it, figured out how to make it in a recombinant form. They put the gene into bacteria. Industry was always, in the end, about products. Drugs maybe, but never cures. Of course, he might be wrong.
Owens told him about meetings they’d had to discuss how to accommodate him. The salesmanship thrilled Owens a little. Owens liked to overcome objections—this was the game of what he did. Buteven he seemed strangely reluctant to close the deal he’d spent years idly musing over and the last three days fine-tuning. “So I really can’t recruit you, huh?”
“Nope. Not today anyway.” Noah lifted his cup with both hands.
Owens sighed. “Well, let me try one more thing. Because I’ve always had the feeling that we’d be working together someday. And a couple of changes are happening right now. One is that Genesis is going public. Our finances will be subject to review, and we’ll have a board of directors, shareholders, all this stuff we don’t have now. And so I’m offering you a one-million-dollar bonus for coming on board. But that’s a onetime offer. I won’t be able to make it again. And, as you know, Genesis has grown a lot and I’m taking a team of the best guys and we’re going to go off to a new building to work on our neurotrophin. And you could be part of that.”
Noah pulled at his fingers, miserable all of a sudden. A million dollars. Like a trick: either way, he lost. He thought of the immunologist they called Lydgate up at the medical school, who was always frantic because his wife craved mission furniture. He again felt a sensation he’d had two times before in his life, when he’d thought it was possible he would die: the headachy pain of an overwhelming embarrassment, to be leaving such a mess. His zebra fish, his drosophila, his data, his papers—none of it was far enough along to hand on to another person, to survive without him. Then, in a clearing, he remembered a story Louise had told one night in the lab. Her mother had been engaged to a banker. “If you marry him,” her father had said, “you’ll have an affair with me; but if you marry me, you won’t have an affair with him.”
“No, I can’t,” Noah said.
“You’re sure?” Owens tilted his head.
Noah nodded.
Owens looked around at various points of the large room, running his palms over his jeans. “Want another coffee?” he asked abruptly. He blinked, no doubt startled at the rare bluff of rejection, but still, he was glad to have Kaskie in the lab. If he’d said yes, a part of Owens would have wished he hadn’t.
Noah understood that his friend loved the lab the way he loved thetiny rental cottage, overgrown with roses, where Olivia lived before she moved in with him. There was too little innocence in Owens’ life.
Noah tried to restrict himself to one cup of coffee in the morning and another in the afternoon, but he accepted anyway. It wasn’t every day he turned down a million dollars.
Owens sat up slightly to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. It was battered leather, bought from a street vendor, that had shined up like a chestnut. Noah reached for his, patting all four pockets. Damn. He wanted to pay. Though Owens had already offered, he always seemed reassured if you paid. It was as if his money had given him a paternity he’d never asked for and that caused him sorrow. But Kaskie had no cash. He didn’t like to carry much because when he did, he spent it. Still, the guy hadn’t called. How was Noah supposed to know? Was he supposed to carry a twenty in case Owens deigned to drop by and pronounce his oatmeal too salty?
But instead of
“I don’t think so, Owens.” But this talk disturbed Noah. Could industry do all that? He’d always believed the majority of science was hands, experiments, one by one, deciding what needed to go next in the chain. Making discoveries, not using them. After all, Genesis didn’t find LCSF. Somebody else did and they took it, figured out how to make it in a recombinant form. They put the gene into bacteria. Industry was always, in the end, about products. Drugs maybe, but never cures. Of course, he might be wrong.
Owens told him about meetings they’d had to discuss how to accommodate him. The salesmanship thrilled Owens a little. Owens liked to overcome objections—this was the game of what he did. Buteven he seemed strangely reluctant to close the deal he’d spent years idly musing over and the last three days fine-tuning. “So I really can’t recruit you, huh?”
“Nope. Not today anyway.” Noah lifted his cup with both hands.
Owens sighed. “Well, let me try one more thing. Because I’ve always had the feeling that we’d be working together someday. And a couple of changes are happening right now. One is that Genesis is going public. Our finances will be subject to review, and we’ll have a board of directors, shareholders, all this stuff we don’t have now. And so I’m offering you a one-million-dollar bonus for coming on board. But that’s a onetime offer. I won’t be able to make it again. And, as you know, Genesis has grown a lot and I’m taking a team of the best guys and we’re going to go off to a new building to work on our neurotrophin. And you could be part of that.”
Noah pulled at his fingers, miserable all of a sudden. A million dollars. Like a trick: either way, he lost. He thought of the immunologist they called Lydgate up at the medical school, who was always frantic because his wife craved mission furniture. He again felt a sensation he’d had two times before in his life, when he’d thought it was possible he would die: the headachy pain of an overwhelming embarrassment, to be leaving such a mess. His zebra fish, his drosophila, his data, his papers—none of it was far enough along to hand on to another person, to survive without him. Then, in a clearing, he remembered a story Louise had told one night in the lab. Her mother had been engaged to a banker. “If you marry him,” her father had said, “you’ll have an affair with me; but if you marry me, you won’t have an affair with him.”
“No, I can’t,” Noah said.
“You’re sure?” Owens tilted his head.
Noah nodded.
Owens looked around at various points of the large room, running his palms over his jeans. “Want another coffee?” he asked abruptly. He blinked, no doubt startled at the rare bluff of rejection, but still, he was glad to have Kaskie in the lab. If he’d said yes, a part of Owens would have wished he hadn’t.
Noah understood that his friend loved the lab the way he loved thetiny rental cottage, overgrown with roses, where Olivia lived before she moved in with him. There was too little innocence in Owens’ life.
Noah tried to restrict himself to one cup of coffee in the morning and another in the afternoon, but he accepted anyway. It wasn’t every day he turned down a million dollars.
Owens sat up slightly to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. It was battered leather, bought from a street vendor, that had shined up like a chestnut. Noah reached for his, patting all four pockets. Damn. He wanted to pay. Though Owens had already offered, he always seemed reassured if you paid. It was as if his money had given him a paternity he’d never asked for and that caused him sorrow. But Kaskie had no cash. He didn’t like to carry much because when he did, he spent it. Still, the guy hadn’t called. How was Noah supposed to know? Was he supposed to carry a twenty in case Owens deigned to drop by and pronounce his oatmeal too salty?
But instead of
Similar Books
