The Sleep of Immortality

By Robert Sweifach

In 410 AD the Great Library of Alexandria was under siege for the last time. Political and religious mobs were out to destroy the library and kill it’s charismatic and beautiful leader, the world-famous mathematician, Hypatia.

In order to save her life, Hypatia agreed to create a coded message engraved on a block of black granite, fo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Sweifach
• Release date: Jun 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733982207

Robert Sweifach

R.G.Sweifach is a Real Estate Broker and CPA in Reno, NV., and now a first time author. In a previous life he worked at six start-ups in Silicon Valley as a Chief Financial Officer, Angel Investor, and Board member. That experience taught him that when imagination and science fuel a vision the world thinks is impossible, great things can happen It also showed him that no matter how brilliant the vision and how solid the science, the law of unintended consequences can lead to breakthroughs that can either save or destroy the world.

Book preview

The Library of Alexandria, Egypt AD 415

Hypatia stumbled as she ran down the winding stairway deep under the foundation of the library. She caught herself on the wall, paused a moment to catch her breath and started down again. She could hear footsteps pounding behind her and shouts of HYPATIA MORS EST-death to Hypatia. She only had minutes before the Christian zealots captured her.

She took the final five stairs in one leap, landing on an iron grate. She raised her arms as far as she could and jumped. Her fingers grasped a rope that was hanging directly over the grate. She attached the rope to the grate then pulled a block and tackle and a winch from a crevice in the wall. She quickly arranged the ropes and pulleys and began to lift the grate from the floor. Thank you, Archimedes, she whispered.

The grate opened wide enough for her to slip through and step onto a ledge three feet below the surface. She grasped handles built into the bottom of the grate then swung her body off the ledge slamming the grate shut just as the first of her pursuers appeared from the stairway. She let go of the handles and dropped the remaining five feet to the floor.

The mob tried to lift the grate, but it was too late. When it slammed shut the ceiling in the stairway gave way, filling the room with boulders and dirt, leaving her in total darkness and her pursuers buried. She sat on the floor, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, she was covered in sweat and dirt, her tunic was torn, and her breath came in short hard gasps.

After a few minutes when her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she rose and felt her way around the wall until she found a lantern and fire striker. She lit the lantern and walked around the room. Iron casks were stacked along three of the walls, each one sealed against moisture.

As she circled the room, she caressed each of the casks. They held original works of Aristotle, Plato, Euclid, Archimedes, Eratosthenes and so many others collected over the centuries. Her life was devoted to mathematics and philosophy. Indeed, that single-minded pursuit along with her worldwide fame as a teacher put her in the crosshairs of Cyril, the Bishop of Alexandria. He accused her of using pagan witchcraft to control Orestes, the Roman governor of Alexandria. She believed in the eternity of the universe, not in the magical power of a statue.

She was caught in a power play between the two. Now she had to survive so that the work of the library would never be forgotten.

She opened one of the casks, removed five long spikes, a hammer, and length of string. She examined the far wall until she found a stone that sparkled under the lantern light. She hammered one of the spikes into the stone. The stone was hollow, so the spike entered easily. Once the spike was secure, she tied the string to it and circumscribed a circle on the wall with a piece of chalk. Next, she drew a line across its diameter and bisected it with another line. She drove a spike into a hidden hole in the wall at the point where each line intersected the circumference.

The spikes had a large flange on the end that fit tightly against the wall. Soon the circle on the wall began to vibrate. Bits of stone and dirt fell to the floor, then the circle of stone began to slowly move backward. It moved a bit then there was a pause before it moved again. Within minutes the entire stone circle was gone.

She heard a voice warn her to stand back from the wall. Sledgehammers slammed against the stone until an opening was made wide enough for a man to walk through.

Hail Hypatia, your calculation of low tide and the spot we were to wait were excellent, he said as he stepped through.

Yes, of course, it was she answered. Let’s not delay, that mob will overrun the library very soon.

We saw a Roman force marching to the library. They will put down the mob, but you will never be safe.

All the reason for me to make my escape. Bring the wagon over here.

Five of his men widened the hole so that a small wagon could fit through.

She pointed to a stack of chests. Have your men move those away from the wall.

When they finished, she grasped an iron ring in the wall and pulled. A doorway opened to a small room. Three of the men entered the room and emerged pushing an upright cart with a large block of black granite strapped to it.

The granite shimmered in the light of the lantern. It was covered with beeswax to protect the symbols carved all over its surface.

One of the men held the lantern close to the stone and tried to read the symbols.

Are you sure our message is on here? he asked.

Don’t worry it is all here.

Get this cart out of here he ordered his men.

Wait, Hypatia said. She went back into the room and came out with a bronze cylinder and a small package wrapped in leather secured by a gold clasp. Take these and hide them as we planned.

As soon as she was on the other side of the wall, she could smell the sea. They followed a path to a boat hidden on the shore of the harbor. The men loaded the sled on the boat.

A woman wearing a long coat with a hood that hid her face stepped off the boat.

She removed her hood and stood beside Hypatia. The resemblance was stunning. She could have been her twin.

I am Xena. I am honored to be your martyr.

Hypatia embraced her and whispered, I am honored as well. Do not fear death, this world is only one realm of existence, and we will meet again in another.

Xena followed a path back to the city and Hypatia’s house while Hypatia went with the men to the boat.

As they set sail, the leader ran his fingers over the stone.

You have completed your end of our bargain, now we will honor ours.

Hypatia took a last look at the library. Let’s hope whoever finds this stone is able to decipher my code and is clever enough to follow the clues we have left for them.

Yes, and hope they possess the knowledge and courage to honor our king He replied.

As well as Aristotle and myself she answered. They went below and began the process of preparing her for the sleep of immortality.

The next day as Xena was riding in a carriage back to the library she was attacked, torn from the carriage, stripped naked, dragged to a church and butchered by Monks.

Athens Greece

Present day

The earthquake hit early in the morning halfway between Greece and Turkey deep in the Aegean Sea.

Milos and his brother Nick set out in their salvage tub, hoping to find historical artifacts that might have been unearthed. They had clients who would pay well for what they might find.

After an unproductive survey of three islands, they decided to try the island of Psara, a small rocky island that had less than 500 inhabitants, near the coast of Turkey.

They docked the tug at an abandoned pier on the far side of the island, then followed a trail that led to a cave at the highest point of the island. As they searched the main cavern, Milos heard a whistling sound from the far end. He went to see what it was and found a crack in the wall where the air was rushing through, creating the sound.

This could be another vent that leads deeper, he said, bring me the hammer.

Milos put his ear on the wall and tapped along the crack. After a few minutes, he turned to Nick and said, This section of the wall definitely sounds thinner than the rest. Let’s get the sledgehammers and see if we can break through.

It took them an hour to make a hole large enough for them to fit through.

On the other side of the wall, a path lead down another 20 meters ending at a hole 5 meters wide on the floor.

Milos edged over and pointed his flashlight down the hole. It was a lava tube, smooth as glass on all sides.

The earthquake must have cracked open the lava tube. I don’t think we are very far from the ocean down here, let’s see where it goes.

They unrolled rope ladders, secured the end with spikes and began the descent. It was cooler and cooler as they went down, and the aroma of the sea became stronger.

After a careful descent, they arrived at the bottom of the tube which opened to another chamber littered with rubble from the quake. They started clearing the rocks and dirt hoping to find something that would make the effort worthwhile.

Over here, I think I have found something exclaimed Nick. Hold your light in this corner while I try to clear some of this debris.

He pushed rocks, dirt, and boulders to the side and uncovered something that was clearly not debris from the quake. At first, he thought it might be an old artillery shell, but as he cleared more dirt away, he became more and more excited.

I can see some symbols carved into the surface of whatever this is, help me try to move it.

They cleared all the area around it and tried to move it, but it was too heavy for the two of them.

It must weigh 200 kilos at least, we will never get it out of here without some heavy equipment.

They examined the walls all the way around and could hear air whistling at the top of the wall on one side. Nick had his climbing gear and worked his way up.

There’s another lava tube up here that probably leads out, I can smell the sea and feel a cool breeze. They scrambled up the tube and found themselves above the beach near where they had left the boat.

What can we do, how can we get that thing out of here? asked Milos.

I don’t think we can, but we know someone who can. Let’s call Sir Archie and get some help.

Sir Archibald Pinter, an 80-year-old retired Cambridge Don of Archeology and Classical Literature, a former member of His Majesty’s intelligence service and now part-time black market antiquities dealer had just finished dinner when his iPhone alerted him to a FaceTime call from his Greek scouts.

Sir Archie, we have found something on Psara of all places.

Nick explained the find and sent him the pictures and video clip they had taken.

I’ve never seen anything quite that shape before, the pictures are a bit dark, so I can’t make out the symbols you say are inscribed, but I am intrigued, Archie said. Are you back in Athens?

I am, but Milos stayed on the Island to guard the cave, just in case.

Very well, I will send Jim and Roger with the equipment you will need.

Jim and Roger arrived the next day and spent the first two nights enlarging the opening to the lava tube, laying a temporary track down the shaft and setting up a diesel-powered generator to power the extraction sled that would run on the tracks.

Sir Archie, as he preferred to be called arrived on the third night. He wanted to see the object as they found it before it was packaged for extraction. He sat on the sled and began his journey.

The lava tube was 30 meters long and pitch black, but the cavern at the bottom was illuminated from the work lights they had set up. His men helped him off the sled and took him to the far corner of the cavern.

He could tell that there were carvings all over the stone, but the outer casing made it impossible to identify the symbols. He could see that they were arranged in sections evenly spaced down and around the stone. Someone had laid out a message.

He turned to Roger and said, Let’s get it packaged for extraction, I’ll go up top and make transportation arrangements.

Roger and Jim secured a sling around the stone then used a winch to set it into a titanium transportation box that they had secured to the sled. Once it was in the box a hose was connected, and a non-reactive protective foam was blown in. The air was sucked out, and it was sealed.

"What’s the plan boss? Roger asked Sir Archie.

Back to Athens, where we load on a British Airways flight in the morning, and then off to California.

Palo Alto, California

Dr. Susan Johnson was sitting at her desk, finishing a patient report when there was a knock on her door at her Stanford Hospital office.

She looked up and was startled to see her brother.

Peter, what are you doing here, I thought you were in New York.

I was but had to fly back for an emergency board meeting for one of our portfolio companies. Are you going to just stand there or give your older and wiser brother a hug?

He was older by two minutes and never let her forget it. Peter was six feet tall and weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Susan was five inches shorter and eighty pounds lighter. His upper body was powerful from years of weight training while Susan had the lean body of a runner. Yet anyone who saw them together would immediately know they were twins.

As Susan rose to greet him, he held up his hand, wait I’ll come to you.

She watched as the chair he was in elongated so that he was standing and began to roll toward her without him touching any type of controller. He maneuvered around a table, opened his arms and she embraced him.

She felt the strength in his arms and flashed back to that day, 25 years ago, when they were sixteen, kayaking down the Colorado River. They hit an unmarked level 5 rapid and capsized. Peter saved her but was crushed against the rocks and been a paraplegic ever since.

Is this fresh out of the lab? She asked.

I’m the field test. He answered with a short laugh.

How do you control it without touching anything, have you finally figured out telepathy?

Not quite. Do you have time for lunch? I have something I want to talk to you about.

Just so happens I am between patients, let’s go to the hospital cafeteria, it’s the best food on campus.

Great, but let’s take the stairs, I need the exercise.

Stairs! Ok, this I want to see.

When they arrived at the stairwell, the base of the device separated into sections just like independent legs. She heard the whirring of some small motors, and he began to step down the stairs. She watched in amazement as the movement became smoother and smoother. It was as if the machine was learning and adjusting after each step. At one point she thought he was losing his balance, then the machine made some slight adjustments and continued. When they reached the bottom of the three flights, she threw her arms around him and started to cry.

Please stop that, you are an M.D. and Ph.D., you shouldn’t cry about medical technology.

Shut up stupid, I’m just so happy to see what you are able to do. Maybe someday we can fix you completely.

Funny you should say, that’s what I want to talk to you about.

When they finished lunch, Susan asked, What did you mean when you told me you wanted to talk about the potential for repairing your spine? The accident crushed the vertebrae at T6-T10 region, and that’s not repairable.

I’m not talking about a surgical repair, what if my spinal cord function could be regenerated?

Do you mean by using stem cells? The best that’s been done is to restore some nerve growth in rats, that’s a breakthrough, but a long way from any kind of renewal of function. You need to set your expectations at a realistic level.

He slapped the table in anger.

If I had realistic expectations, I would have given up a long time ago!

He took a deep breath before continuing, I’m sorry Susan, sometimes my frustration gets the better of me. I know you would do anything to help me. I would like you to come to dinner on Friday and meet with someone who I think can make a significant contribution to this effort.

Really, who is he? I know everyone in the field.

His name is Dr. Tom Powers, the man who created the operating system for my chair.

What does he think he can do that the collective work of the world’s best medical minds hasn’t been able to.

Please just come with an open a mind, meet him and let him explain it to you. Sometimes an unexpected radical approach to a problem is what is needed to upset the equilibrium.

Susan sighed, What time and please don’t try to barbecue again.

Peter’s House, Portola Valley, Ca

Susan rang the doorbell and was greeted by Peter’s aide John Daniels.

Hello Dr. Johnson, how are you?

Fine, John, how are you doing?

All things considered, not too bad, Peter and Dr. Powers are in the library, go on down while I look after dinner, please.

She found her brother and an older man playing three-dimensional chess. They were so engrossed in the game they didn’t notice her standing in the doorway.

She watched as Peter agonized over each move, tentatively moving a piece then returning it after looking for traps then trying another move. His opponent completed his moves without any hesitation. He had the pallor of a man who spent more time in an office than in the sun. She guessed he was in his sixties, six feet tall and probably no more than 160 pounds.

Tom looked up and saw Susan. He extended his hand to Peter. I can see your position is improving, let’s call this a draw.

I’d call it charity, Peter responded, but thank you. Actually, I should thank Susan for arriving in time to rescue me. He turned his chair to face her. I could sense that you were standing behind me.

The blessing of being a twin, Susan said as she bent down to kiss him on the cheek.

She extended her hand to Tom. Dr. Powers I presume?

Tom rose from his chair to take her hand. It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Johnson. Peter has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.

"In that case, there is no need for titles, how about first names? Susan replied.

Thank you, Susan, I’m Tom.

Peter tells me you have degrees in math and physics. I’m impressed.

Those were a long time ago. You save lives. I’m the one who is impressed.

Just as Susan was about to reply John came in and told them dinner was ready.

I hope you’re not expecting a home cooked meal, Peter said. We have Chinese and Indian take out. None of us can cook, but John is quite skilled at opening the boxes.

No problem, Tom replied, I eat mostly take out as well, so I feel right at home.

John surveyed the table, satisfied all was in order. I’ll leave you to it. There’s beer, water and soda in the refrigerator, I’m going out to a real dinner with some friends. I’ll be back in a few hours.

They ate silently for a while, enjoying the mixture of exotic aromas and tastes. Tom finally pushed his chair away from the table. I don’t think I have eaten that much in a week, thank you for a wonderful meal.

That was tasty, Susan replied. Would you like some tea? I don’t know about you, but I could use a bit of digestive help.

Before Tom answered, Peter rolled away from the table, extended the chair, so he was standing and went into the kitchen. He returned carrying a tray with the tea service.

Here we go, tea for three he announced as he adjusted the position of the chair so that he could serve the tea.

Susan took a sip of her tea. I haven’t seen Peter this energetic and optimistic in quite a while. Thank you for that Tom. Now please tell me how you know Peter, why he has that chair and what you mean by fixing him.

"Of course, Tom replied. Peter said you were direct and protective. I respect that.

I was introduced to Peter by a mutual friend who is a limited partner in Peter’s venture capital fund as well as an investor in the company that was developing the chair. I had been consulting with the company for a year, and we were ready to beta test the system. Once Peter saw what we were doing he invested with the condition he is the beta tester."

What type of work were you doing for them?

I have been involved in mathematical analysis and software development for quite a while, and the chair project gave me the opportunity to test my algorithms in a real-world application.

What did you do to achieve the functionality Peter demonstrated to me? she asked.

The chair has some networked microprocessors, servo motors, gyroscopes and micro cameras connected via an extremely high-speed wireless connection and controlled by an advanced form of gesture recognition software like the Kinect application in Microsoft’s Xbox. It has a 360-degree field of vision and responds to Peter’s hand movements and slight body adjustments. It also has an artificial intelligence engine that can adjust itself to changing conditions.

I can’t tell you how much this has improved my life, Peter added. In fact, let me show you something not even Tom has seen.

He hit a button on a remote control and music began to play. Susan was about to ask what he was doing when he extended his hand to her.

May I have this dance?

Before she could respond, he took her hand and began to waltz with her.

Oh, my goodness, Susan said, we haven’t danced like this since my sixteenth birthday party. She held Peter for a few moments after the music ended then turned to Tom, Thank you for giving us this experience.

Don’t thank me this was all Peter. I didn’t program any dance moves. I had no idea he could do it.

Peter smiled, I have been working on this with John, but you are a much better dancer.

He turned to Tom, It’s as if the machine has learned so much about me that it anticipates my moves or at least is reacting in real time to any slight change in my posture or muscle movement. I can’t wait to see what I can do next.

Speaking of what is next, Tom, tell me what you mean by fixing Peter, Susan said.

I know you think this is impossible, but I propose we use genetically engineered stem cells to regenerate his spinal cord functions.

Tom, Susan replied patiently, this technique is just a few years old and has never been taken past a few laboratory experiments, are you a Ph.D. in genetics as well?

No, but you are, and I need your help.

Then believe me when I tell you we are a long way from being able to generate stem cells that can be programmed to express as a particular function or organ.

That’s true, but what if you knew the programming code for proteins and could create the ones you needed to force the stem cell to express itself into anything you wanted.

Susan stared at him, astounded at how casually he was describing extending the state of the art in at least four cutting-edge technologies by an order of magnitude.

Before she could answer Tom’s, iPhone buzzed, Sorry, only a few people have this number, I’d better check.

He entered a response and said, That was an old friend who dabbles in pre-market antiquities. He is flying in from Europe and has something he insists I must see which means he is sure I will buy it from him. I’m going to meet him tomorrow at noon.

So, in addition to designing control software for medical marvels like Peter’s chair and deciphering the complexity of protein formation, you are also an antiquities collector? Susan asked.

The antiquities are a sideline for me, Tom replied. Software architecture and mathematical analysis have been my life’s work for the past 45 years. I don’t know how to decipher protein complexity, but I have a tool that you might be able to use for that purpose. He glanced at his watch, it’s late, and I have some work to do tonight. Can we continue this discussion tomorrow? Perhaps you would like to meet my friend and see what he has for me?

Susan hesitated before answering. This is against my better judgment but if Peter is interested in what you have to say I owe it to him to listen. Where and when are you meeting your friend?

I have a lab facility down the peninsula, I can pick you up at 11 am and bring you back whenever you want.

The Next Morning

Tom drove down Highway 101 through the heart of Silicon Valley and turned off into what she recognized as the NASA Ames research center at Moffitt field.

How did you get a lab here, she asked.

There was a government surplus sale when they closed down the space shuttle program. The Google boys park their 747 here, and I have one of the old test facilities that I have modified for my lab.

As they approached the gate, he entered a code into his iPhone, and they drove through to what looked like an old Quonset hut. A truck towing a U-Haul trailer was waiting. An elegantly dressed older gentleman hopped out of the truck accompanied by two younger men.

Hello Archie, how are you, Tom said

Fine Tom, but who is this lovely lady?

This is Dr. Susan Johnson, a friend and a doctor at Stanford Hospital. Susan this is Sir Archibald Pinter, retired Oxford Professor of Archeology, part-time spy, and full-time rascal.

In a flash he was at her side, kissed her hand and said: Please call me Archie, would you like to go for a drink after we finish here?

Before she could recover and respond, Tom clasped his elbow, Easy old guy, let’s go inside and see what you brought before you have a heart attack, and you really need a doctor.

Sir Archie glared at Tom. Kill joy, at least let me introduce my assistants. This is Jim Thomson and Roger White.

Hello Dr. Johnson, Dr. Peters, pleased to meet you. The shook hands with Peter and Susan.

Susan said, I couldn’t help noticing the tats on your arm. Twenty-Third Regiment, am I right?

Well we’re not at liberty to say, but what makes you say that?

My former husband was US Special OPS for 20 years, and I got to know a bit about the community. I especially liked the SAS boys.

Is he now peacefully retired?

Well retired, but I doubt peacefully, he owns Shadow Warrior, do you know them?

Your ex is Col. Jefferies?

That’s him.

Oh, my! We have done a bit of work for him, off and on...he is quite a soldier.

This is fascinating, interrupted Tom with a surprised look at Susan, but let’s go see what Archie has brought.

As they approached the building, Susan saw a roll-up door just like a storage unit with a simple round lock, Tom took out a key, opened the lock and rolled up the door.

You’re kidding, that can’t be your security system, I have a better one for my bike, never mind what you must have in here, Susan said.

Tom walked through the door and told them to follow him in. She noticed that there was second structure ten feet inside the roll up door, but it was dark, and she could not make out any details.

He placed both hands on the surface, leaned forward till his forehead rested on it and said something that was either random sounds or a language that Susan had never heard before.

Suddenly Tom was encased in a soft cone of light, and a section of the wall opened. They followed him in, the lights came on, and Susan realized she was standing inside a geodesic dome.

He pushed a few buttons on a control panel, and the doorway widened so that the truck could be driven in.

What were you doing when we entered and what did you say? Susan asked.

Security access consists of fingerprints for all 10 fingers, palm prints, retina scan and a verbal password that is a classic mathematical equation, depending which random number is shown on the display. I set the correspondence of the equation to the number each month. Tom replied.

Archie, let’s see what you have that is so astounding. Have the boys bring it to the clean room.

The box was secured on a handcart and rolled to a plastic bubble-like structure at one end of the chamber.

They put it in a glass cubicle where it was opened, revealing a foam rubber cylinder.

Archie, are the specs on the foam the same as always?

Yes, but please do the test, just in case.

Tom sat at a terminal and typed in some code, one of the robotic arms flipped around, and a blade appeared. It sliced a 6x6x1 inch piece of foam off and wrapped it around an egg which it placed in a glass tray. It moved the tray to a table and positioned the table in front of what looked like a satellite television dish. Tom hit a few more keys, read the screen and made another adjustment. Within a few seconds, the foam disappeared.

Now let’s see if the egg is still an egg. The robotic arm put the egg on a table and cracked it open.

Why did you do that? Susan asked.

The foam is a non-reactive material used to protect artifacts in the field, it protects them from the environment as well as from any potential damage in shipping. It is manufactured with a very specific molecular structure that evaporates when exposed to a particular sound frequency. We can then melt it away without any chance of damage to the item. The calculation is very precise, and the surface of the artifact is never compromised. We are in trouble if we have a hardboiled egg. Now let’s see what we have.

Tom reprogrammed the dish and within a few minutes the foam encasing the stone evaporated. He issued more commands, and a high-resolution picture of the stone appeared on a flat screen mounted on a wall. The camera gave them close up and panoramic views.

That coating is just opaque enough to cloud any detail of the carvings, I’m going to slice off a piece and run it through the mass spectrometer and see what it is.

Tom had the results in fifteen minutes.

The material covering the stone is beeswax, Tom said, it has been used as waterproofing and a preservative for thousands of years. I can tell the stone is granite. It might be a billion years old, there is no way to know, but we can carbon date the beeswax and get an estimate when it was made. Beeswax melts at 145-150 degrees F, let’s move it into a warming cubicle and melt it.

Jim and Roger put the stone back on the handcart and were about to move it when Archie said, Tom, old chap before you start melting, I need to know if we have a deal on the price. I am sure there are others who would love to acquire this item, and I will have to show it in its original form. I know how excited you get, so let’s stop right here and get the business end resolved one way or the other.

Tom was walking around the stone examining it in detail and said, Fine Archie, what did you have in mind?

"I’m pretty sure I can get at least $1.5 Million for it, sight unseen and much more at auction, but you are an old friend, and I would like you to have it. Also, we both know that a block of granite that size should weigh 100-150 pounds more if it were solid. What happened to that weight is another mystery that is worth a premium.

Since we are old friends and colleagues, you can have it for $2 Million right now."

Tom laughed, You never change, two million it is. Let’s move it into the warming cubicle.

When they were finished Susan turned to Tom, ‘’That’s it, you just agreed to his price without any negotiation?"

Money is not an issue for me. I’m not an expert in ancient languages, but there is something carved into that stone that is unusual. Who knows it might turn out to be more valuable than what I paid. Besides, I have my own reasons for wanting it.

It’s going to take an hour or two for the beeswax to melt let’s have lunch and talk."

Archie would you, and the boys like to join us?

Wish we could, but we are flying back to London this evening. Let me know if you need anything else.

After Archie and his men left Tom asked Susan to come to his office. He wanted to show her something that he hoped would convince her to at least consider his offer to join in the stem cell project.

Why are you so interested in me Tom? With your resources, you could attract any number of Nobel Prize winners to work with.

Tom turned to her and said, That’s true but as you say we will be in unknown scientific territory, and no one has the personal incentive that you do to take that step if need be.