Tom Hyman (9 page)

Jupiter s Laugter ù 65

of the local feeder airlines and expand it. Maybe we could even develop our own international routes….

Ajemian tucked the used tissue into his pants pocket. “What about legal problems?”

“I don’t think there are any. In fact, the legal situation could work to our benefit. If genetic research on the germ line is illegal everywhere else, then people’ll have no choice except to come down here. We’d have the whole market to ourselves—indefinitely. Even if someone stole the program, he’d be hard put to find a place to set up the sophisticated clinics needed to administer it. Of course we’d have to protect ourselves—keep the local politicians here happy. That shouldn’t be hard. We can make the economy on this island boom.”

Ajemian still resisted the idea. “What about Goth himself? He could be a problem. I heard him asking for fifty percent in there.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Fifty percent is out of the question, of course. Even a thirty-percent share’s too high. But suppose we just offer him carte blanche. Go to him and say, ‘Look, here’s the ten million. It’s a grant. No strings attached. Just get to work.

When you’ve got your formula in shape, then we’ll sit down and work out a longterm arrangement.” Nobody can possibly offer him a better deal than that.”

Ajemian sniffled. “No, but what’s to keep him from taking his formula to the highest bidden-after weJve paid him to develop it?”

“Let him think he can do just that. He’s arrogant enough to think he deserves it. And naive enough about business to go for it. But by the time he’s spent our ten million, we’ll own him. He’ll have to get our permission to go to the bathroom. For openers, we’ll buy the medical school and make ourselves his landlord.

And we’ll make sure that we have a copy of that genetic program of his physically in our possession before he can do anything with it. Then he’ll have to accept whatever we put on the table.”

Ajemian saw that his boss was not going to be dissuaded. He shifted his ground to tactical considerations. “What about the others at the meeting today? We could have competition.”

“I wonder. You can count Harry Fairfield out, for one. He’s aggressive, but he’s no good at development. He’s after the quick buck. His attitude gave him away. He didn’t take Goth seriously.

And he’s also in trouble with the British government.”

“Tax evasion. That’s nothing to Fairfield.”

“Not that. Rumors are going around that he’s been selling bad drugs through a generic-brand subsidiary. Scotland Yard is going to whack him hard. He’ll be too distracted to get involved with Goth’s program.

Prince Bandar is out, too. He was too lazy to bother to do his homework. He didn’t ask a single question during Goth’s presentation.

I think he was half-asleep.”

“Yamamoto?”

“Hard to tell. He has big government connections. I can see him trying to buy Goth out. And if that doesn’t work—which it won’t—he might try to steal the program. The Japs would rather develop something like this on their own.”

Ajemian nodded in agreement. “And I guess the baroness is out.”

Stewart stroked his chin. “I don’t know. She may be the one to worry about.”

“I thought she pretty much told Goth no during the meeting.”

“The baroness is clever. I’ve got a hunch that’s the way she wanted it to look. But what did she actually say? She told Goth she’d demand ninety percent, not fifty. So she’s already negotiating with him. And she knows as much about genetic research as any of us.”

“Then she’s trouble. Beneath that glamorous exterior of hers there’s one tough bitch, no matter what you read in the magazines.”

“Hell, we’ll beat her pants off,” Stewart said. He grinned.

“Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Ajemian wasn’t convinced. “It just feels wrong to me.”

Dalton laughed. “What kind of argument is that?” He banged the top of the seat back in front of him. “Come on, let’s go for it.”

Ajemian just grunted.

“As soon as we get back to the hotel I want you to do the JUIzr LJuurz u/

following,” Stewart said. “Find out who owns the medical school, and buy the whole thing, cash. They ought to be eager to unload it, considering the shape it’s in. Get a binder on the property. Fly in a couple of our lawyers if you have to. Set up a shell company as owner.

Then set me up with a date to see President Despres, ASAP. We’ve got to get his balls in our pocket right away.”

“Should I scout out some beach front properties as well?”

“That can wait. Let’s not tip our hand. But call New York and put R&D

on notice that when I get back I want to see on my desk a complete profile of this island—voting lists, tax lists, realestate ownership, phone numbers, arrest records, gossip, everything they can lay their hands on. Then I want three detailed biographies—Harold Goth, Yuichiro Yamamoto, and Baroness Gerta von Hauser. Everything there is to know about them—their work, personal habits, friends, enemies, sex life, financial status, health, eating habits—the works. I want them fast. Put the whole department on them full-time.”

Ajemian scribbled some notes to himself, then looked up.

“What about this afternoon? You’re scheduled to fly to Puerto Rico to look at that new chemical plant.”

“Cancel it. I’m going back to make Goth an offer. I’ve just thought of a way to find out if this Jupiter program of his is the real thing.”

Dalton Stewart found Dr. Harold Goth in his laboratory, hunched over a computer terminal. On a stand nearby, an old dot-matrix printer was cranking out a continuous strip of fanfold paper that spilled to the floor in an erratic, untended pile. The pages were covered with charts and diagrams.

Stewart was surprised that Goth was so careless of his security; he had walked right into the building and the lab unannounced and unseen. He was now standing ten feet behind Goth, and the doctor, riveted to his computer screen, was still oblivious of his presence. Kirsten, his research assistant, sat on a stool in the far corner, peering into a microscope. She had not noticed his entrance, either. Stewart cleared his throat loudly.

Goth glanced over his shoulder. He greeted Stewart bluntly: “What do you want?”

“I want you to succeed, Doctor,” Stewart said, inflecting the words with all the warmth he could muster.

Goth dismissed him with a short wave of his hand. “If you’re here to make me an offer, you’re too late.”

Stewart’s genial grin vanished. “Too late?”

“The Baroness von Hauser has already made a proposal.”

Stewart felt his pulse quicken. “Surely you haven’t accepted it —have you?”

Goth shrugged. “It’s adequate.”

“But you haven’t heard my offer yet.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be hasty, Doctor. I have a plan I think you’ll find far more attractive.”

Goth was clearly eager to get rid of him. “I really don’t need a lot of money,” he snapped.

“I understand. But there are other considerations, aren’t there ? ”

Goth’s eyebrows narrowed in a suspicious squint. “What do you mean?”

“What are the baroness’s terms?”

Goth hesitated for a moment. “She’s accepted sixty percent,” he said, finally.

Stewart nodded. Obviously the doctor thought he had driven a hell of a bargain, getting her down from her pretended insistence on ninety percent. “How much capital is she prepared to advance to you?”

“Exactly what I demanded. Ten million dollars.”

“How will she pay it out?”

“Spread over two years.”

“And you’re happy with that?”

“I can live with it.”

“No other conditions?”

“Some oversight,” Goth muttered. He wasn’t crazy about that part of the bargain.

Stewart rested his hands on the counter top behind him and leaned back, calculating how he might best deliver the baroness a figurative kick right in her smart, round ass.

“That could be trouble, couldn’t it?” he said. “I could be wrong, but oversight’s likely to mean Hauser lawyers and CPAs constantly hounding you to account for every dollar. It could even mean Hauser biologists sticking their noses in your laboratory work. I understand the baroness has a reputation for meddling.

She likes to be personally involved in her projects. Ask anybody who’s dealt with her. They’ll tell you the same. It could slow you down.”

Goth slid a thumb and forefinger up under his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. Bull’s-eye, Stewart thought.

“I have to be a realist,” Goth replied. “I don’t expect anything better.”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

Goth chewed his lip. His skepticism was warring with his curiosity.

“What are you talking about?”

“A better offer. I’ll advance you all the money you require.

Forget ten million—I’ll go to twenty. And you can have the money when and as you need it. And you won’t have to account for a nickel of it to anybody. How you spend it will be entirely up to you.”

“And what percentage of Jupiter would you expect?”

“At this stage, absolutely none. There’d be no conditions attached to the money—none whatsoever. Consider it a research grant. Period.

When you’re ready to market Jupiter, we’ll discuss percentages then.

If we can’t come to terms, you’ll be free to take the project elsewhere. If you fail to develop a workable program, then percentages won’t matter anyway.”

Goth stared at Stewart disbelievingly; he was not a man accustomed to good news. “What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t any. I said no strings—I mean it. I respect your work.

And I believe you can do what you say you can do. If I can help you, then we’ll all be winners. To try to tie you down to an agreement now is neither necessary nor advisable, in my view. Look at it this way: if things go better for you than you expect, you might end up feeling I took advantage of you when you weren’t in a strong negotiating position. That’s exactly what the baroness is doing now. I want any arrangement between us to be completely fair. I want to lay the groundwork for an enduring association.”

“And what about your twenty million? You’ll no doubt expect that money back—with interest.”

“Not at all. It’ll be a tax loss. I’ll set up a foundation specifically for this project, so that I can declare the sums charitable contributions.”

Goth removed his glasses and wiped them with the bottom of his lab jacket. Stewart saw that he was wavering.

“I’m a rich man, Dr. Goth,” Stewart said, reaching to clinch his argument. “I don’t need to be any richer. The twenty million dollars is, quite frankly, not a lot of money to me. And even if it were, I’ve reached the stage in my life and career where the social worth of a venture matters far more to me than its potential profits. I can understand why you might have doubts, but bear in mind that what I’m proposing doesn’t even demand any trust on your part. I simply give you the money you need, and you do what you have to do. Nobody’ll be looking over your shoulder.

No lawyers, no accountants, no scientific committees. I have absolutely no need to take advantage of you. The tax break I’ll get is lone worth the investment. I won’t lose out, no matter what happens.

It’s a perfect arrangement for both of us. All you need to agree to on paper is that you won’t seek funding elsewhere-or enter into any legal contracts with anybody before I’ve had a chance to negotiate with you first.”

“I’ll have to think it over,” Goth said.

“Of course. How long do you need?”

“A couple of days.”

Stewart shook his head emphatically. “I appreciate that you’re a shrewd bargainer, Doctor,” he said. “But I can’t let you shop my offer around. That’d be unfair to me. I tell you what. I’ll leave the offer on the table for one hour. That should give you adequate time to decide. Then it’s take it or leave it, I’m afraid.”

Goth paced the floor. He asked Stewart to repeat his terms again.

Then he asked a lot of unimportant questions: how soon he could get the money, and what bank he would use, and who would know about their arrangement, and so on. Stewart knew at that point that Goth had already accepted his offer. He just didn’t want to appear too eager.

The doctor obviously thought of himself as someone who could never be seduced into compromising his ideals. And like most loners, he insisted on calling all the shots and doing all the work himself, because no one else could be trusted to do it right. He thought that this made him invulnerable, when in fact it was his major weakness. He thought that because he was a genius in the field of genetics, that made him a genius in other areas as well. If Goth had known anything about business at all, Stewart reflected, he would have known that in a matter as important as this he needed expert legal advice. But Goth didn’t think that.

“Okay,” Goth said. “But if you try to impose conditions after the fact, the deal is off.”

“Understood.” Stewart held out his hand. Goth hesitated, then took it. He had a lousy handshake.

“Since I’m taking all the risks, I do have a few questions I want to ask you, Doctor.”

Goth looked mildly alarmed. “What are they?”

“First, I thought you were a little evasive earlier today when I asked you if you had ever tested Jupiter on a human subject. I find it hard to believe that you never have. So let me ask the question again.”

Instead of answering the question, Goth excused himself and walked to the far end of the lab, where his assistant was still perched on her stool. She had barely stirred the whole time he was there. Goth ordered her to go find something for him. She objected briefly, then left the room.

“Can I trust you to keep something completely confidential?” the doctor asked, walking back toward Stewart.

“Of course. Absolutely.”

“Very well . . .” Goth paused. A look of intense discomfort-almost pain—creased his face. “Two years ago forty women from the island volunteered for an in vitro fertilization program….”