'Are you kidding? After this? Who would -'
'We're still in business, Charlie. The science is still the thing. The patent. There will be investors out there who will know this. You have to go out and do the Ahab thing. Find another great white whale.'
'Easier said than done.'
'Everything in this world is easier said than done. What happened to me last night and in the last week is easier said than done. But it's done. I made it through and it's given me a hotter fire than ever.'
Condon nodded.
'Nobody stops us now,' he said.
'That's right. We're going to take a media firestorm today and probably over the next few weeks. But we have to figure out the way to turn it to our advantage, to pull investors in, not scare them away. I'm not talking about the daily news. I'm talking about the journals, the industry.'
'I'll get on it. But you know where we're going to be totally screwed?'
'Where?'
'Nicki. She was our spokesperson. We need her. She knew these people, the reporters.
Who is going to handle the media on this? They'll be all over this for the next few days, at least, or until the next big thing happens to draw them away.'
Pierce considered this for a few moments. He looked up at the framed poster showing the Proteus submarine moving through a sea of many different colors. The human sea.
'Call her up and hire her back. She can keep the severance. All she has to do is come back.'
Condon paused before replying.
'Henry, how is that going to work with you two? I doubt she'll consider it.'
Pierce suddenly got excited about the idea. He would tell her that the rehire was strictly professional, that they would have no other relationship outside of work. He then would show her how he had changed. How the dime chased him now, not the other way around.
He thought of the book of Chinese characters he had left open on the coffee table.
Forgiveness. He decided that he could make it work. He would win her back and he would make it work.
'If you want, I'll call her. I'll get -'
His direct line rang and he immediately answered it.
'Henry, it's Jacob. It's so early there. I thought I was going to get your voice mail.'
'No, I've been here all night. Did you file it?'
'I filed it twenty minutes ago. Proteus is protected. You are protected, Henry.'
'Thank you, Jacob. I'm glad you went last night.'
'Is everything okay back there?'
'Everything except we lost Goddard.'
'Oh my gosh! What happened?'
'It's a long story. When are you coming back?'
'I'm going to go visit my brother and his family down in Owings in southern Maryland.
I'll fly back Sunday.'
'Do they have cable down in Owings?'
'Yes. I'm pretty sure they do.'
'Keep your eye on CNN. I have a feeling we're going to light it up.'
'Is there -'
'Jacob, I'm in the middle of something. I have to go. Go see your brother and get some sleep. I hate red-eye flights.'
Kaz agreed and then they hung up. Pierce looked at Condon.
'We're in. He filed the package.'
Condon's face lit up.
'How?'
'I sent him last night. They can't touch us now, Charlie.'
Condon thought about this for a few moments and then nodded his head.
'Why didn't you tell me you were sending him?'
Pierce just looked at him. He could see the realization in Condon's face, that Pierce had not trusted him.
'I didn't know, Charlie. I couldn't talk to anybody until I knew.'
Condon nodded but the hurt remained on his face.
'Must be hard. Living with all that suspicion. Must be hard to be so alone.'
Now it was Pierce's turn to just nod. Condon said he was going to get some coffee and left him alone in the office.
For a few moments Pierce didn't move. He thought about Condon and what he had said.
He knew his partner's words were cutting but true. He knew it was time to change all of that.
It was still early in the day but Pierce didn't want to wait to begin. He picked up the phone and called the house on Amalfi Drive.
Acknowledgments
This book could not have been written without the help of Dr. James Heath, professor of chemistry, University of California, Los Angeles, and Carolyn Chriss, researcher extraordinaire. This story is fiction. However, the science contained within it is real. The race to build the first molecular computer is real. Any errors or unintended exaggerations within the story are solely the responsibility of the author.
For their help and advice the author is also indebted to Terrill Lee Lankford, Larry Bernard, Jane Davis, Robert Connelly, Paul Connelly, John Houghton, Mary Lavelle, Linda Connelly, Philip Spitzer and Joel Gotler.
Many thanks also go to Michael Pietsch and Jane Wood for going beyond the call of duty as editors with this manuscript, and as well to Stephen Lamont for the excellent copyediting.
About the Author
Michael Connelly is a former journalist and author of the bestselling series of Harry Bosch novels, including, most recently City of Bones, and the bestselling novels The Poet, Blood Work, and Void Moon. Connelly has won numerous awards for his journalism and novels, including an Edgar Award.
