Green Earth

922a: Surface water, central water, the top of the deep water. And never over 34. 33.8 on the surface once she got into the Norwegian Sea.

645d: Wow. What about temperatures?

922a: 0.9 on the surface, 0.75 at three hundred meters. Warmer to the east, but not by much.

645d: Oh my God. So it’s not going to sink.

922a: That’s right.

645d: What’s going to happen?

922a: I don’t know. It could be the stall.

645d: Someone’s got to do something about this.

922a: Good luck my friend! I personally think we’re in for some fun. A thousand years of fun.

Anna was working with her door open, and once again she heard Frank’s end of a phone conversation. Having eavesdropped once, it seemed to have become easier; and as before, there was a strain in Frank’s voice that caught her attention. Not to mention louder sentences like:

“What? Why would they do that?”

Then silence, except for a squeak of his chair and a brief drumming of fingers.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Well, what can I say. It’s too bad. It sucks, sure … Yeah. But, you know. You’ll be fine either way. It’s your workforce that will be in trouble … No no, I understand. You did your best. Nothing you can do after you sell. It wasn’t your call, Derek … Yeah I know. They’ll find work somewhere else. It’s not like there aren’t other biotechs out there, it’s the biotech capital of the world, right? … Yeah, sure. Let me know when you know … Okay, I do too. Bye.”

He hung up hard, cursed under his breath.

Anna looked out her door. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah.”

She got up and went to her doorway. He was looking down at the floor, shaking his head disgustedly.

He raised his head and met her gaze. “Small Delivery Systems closed down Torrey Pines Generique and let almost everyone go.”

“Really! Didn’t they just buy them?”

“Yes. But they didn’t want the people.” He grimaced. “It was for something Torrey Pines had, like a patent. Or one of the people they kept. There were a few they invited to join the Small Delivery lab in Atlanta. Like that mathematician I told you about. The one who sent us a proposal, did I tell you about him?”

“One of the jackets that got turned down?”

“That’s right.”

“Your panel wasn’t that impressed, as I recall.”

“Yeah, that’s right. But I’m not so sure—I don’t think they were right.” He grimaced, shrugged. “It was a mistake. Anyway, they’ll get him to sign a contract that gives them the rights to his work, and then they’ll have it to patent, or keep as a trade secret, or even bury if it interferes with some other product of theirs. Whatever their legal department thinks will make the most.”

Anna watched him brood. Finally she said, “Oh well.”

He gave her a look. “A guy like him belongs at NSF.”

Anna lifted an eyebrow. She was well aware of Frank’s ambivalent or even negative attitude toward NSF, which he had let slip often enough.

Frank understood her look and said, “The thing is, if you had him here then you could, you know, sic him on things. Sic him like a dog.”

“I don’t think we have a program that does that.”

“Well you should, that’s what I’m saying.”

“You can add that to your talk to the Board this afternoon,” Anna said. She considered it herself. A kind of human search engine, hunting math-based solutions …

Frank did not look amused. “I’ll already be out there far enough as it is,” he muttered. “I wish I knew why Diane asked me to give this talk anyway.”

“To get your parting wisdom, right?”

“Yeah right.” He looked at a pad of yellow legal-sized paper, scribbled over with notes.

Anna surveyed him, feeling again the slightly irritated fondness for him she had felt on the night of the party for the Khembalis. She would miss him when he was gone. “Want to go down and get a coffee?”

“Sure.” He got up slowly, lost in thought, and reached out to close the program on his computer.

“Wow, what did you do to your hand?”

“Oh. Burned it in a little climbing fall. Grabbed the rope.”

“My God Frank.”

“I was belayed at the time, it was just a reflex thing.”

“It looks painful.”

“It is when I flex it.” They left the offices and went to the elevators. “How is Charlie getting along with his poison ivy?”

“Still moaning and groaning. Most of the blisters are healing, but some of them keep breaking open. I think the worst part now is that it keeps waking him up at night. He hasn’t slept much since it happened. Between that and Joe he’s kind of going crazy.”

In the Starbucks she said, “So are you ready for this talk to the Board?”

“No. Or, as much as I can be. Like I said, I don’t really know why Diane wants me to do it.”

“It must be because you’re leaving. She wants to get your parting wisdom. She does that with some of the visiting people. It’s a sign she’s interested in your take on things.”

“But how would she know what that is?”

“I don’t know. Not from me. I would only say good things, of course, but she hasn’t asked me.”

He rubbed a finger gently up and down the burn on his palm.

“Tell me,” he said, “have you ever heard of someone getting a report and, you know, just filing it away? Taking no action on it?”