Her phone vibrated. Ridley had texted. Are you still in the city?
She replied with a location tag. I’m waiting for the ferry.
Walk down to Bell Harbor Marina. I have a surprise.
Diane rolled her eyes. It’s late.
I can get you home faster.
Her curiosity got the best of her. She walked down to the marina but Ridley was nowhere to be found. She texted three question marks in a row.
“Down here,” he called.
An engine roared from the water below and waves splashed against the pier. Ridley sat in a candy-apple red speedboat that bounced on the water. He cut the engine and tied the boat to the dock. “Want a ride to the island?”
“When did you get that?”
“This morning. It’s a Formula 690 Bowrider Magma.”
Diane remained unimpressed; the trade name meant nothing to her.
He continued, “I traded in Charley’s old boat. This is bigger and safer. We can cross Puget Sound in 15 minutes. Hop aboard. I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t know...”
“The ferry doesn’t leave for another twenty minutes. I’ll have you home before it even leaves.”
Diane hesitated. He held up a child-sized safety vest. “I bought this for Kelly. Safety first. This boat has automatic beacons if something happens. The Coast Guard would find us in seconds. There’s an inflatable life raft and recovery drone too. The first aid kit has injectable oxygen.”
Diane still hesitated.
“Come on,” he insisted, “You only live once.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“The salesman showed me how to operate it.”
“I want a smooth ride. No showing off,” she said, “Or I never step onboard again.”
Ridley took her things and stowed them safely. Once onboard, Diane put the orange vest on Kelly and then fastened hers tightly in place. Ridley chose not to wear a safety vest. The water was calm. He untied the boat and pushed the throttle forward too hard causing the boat to lurch ahead. “Ridley…!”
“Sorry.”
He pulled back and gently maneuvered it away from the dock. The boat ventured slowly into open water. “Care to sightsee a little?”
“It’s been a long day.”
“Are you sure?”
What was almost a smile appeared on the Kelly’s face. “I don’t know why, but she is fascinated by water.”
“Are you really in a hurry to get back?”
“I guess not.”
Ridley throttled back as they approached Blakely Rock, a small island in the middle of Puget Sound. They enjoyed the sight of sea lions and gulls diving into the water. “I looked into buying this island but it’s a state park,” Ridley said, “The bureaucrats said not to ask again.”
“You want an island?”
“Who doesn’t want to live on their own island?” he replied dismissively, “It’s the best way to survive the next Apocalypse.”
“Unless rising sea levels swallow it.”
In the distance, the ferry began leaving port. Ridley passed to the left of a red buoy; a green one floated in the distance.
Diane pointed at the red buoy. “You know that the buoys mark the channel, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“You’re supposed to pass between them.”
The depth gauge read four-feet. Ridley tapped it. “What? Crap.”
Ridley maneuvered the boat away from the small refuge and into deeper water.
“We should head home,” Diane said, “Before we sink.”
“We’ll be fine. One more stop.”
Ridley began racing towards Bainbridge Island. He pulled the craft into a sheltered cove out of the wind. Diamond patterns sparkled off his sunglasses. The boat bobbed up and down as the evening sun warmed their shoulders. The light bouncing off the water reminded Diane of her failed processor design. It was time to tell Ridley the truth. She was blunt. “I have no idea how to read diffraction patterns.”
“Say again?”
“I have no idea how we’re going to read the diffraction patterns. I’ve been meaning to talk to you… I just…”
“You’ve been working on that for almost two years.”
She looked at Kelly. “Eighteen months. Not that it matters. The truth is that I’m stuck.”
Ridley took off his sunglasses and hung them from the collar of his shirt. “I don’t see why that’s such a hard thing to do. Redesign a sensor from a digital camera.”
The response disappointed Diane. Why should she need to explain something so basic? “I know you’re being flippant.”
“Not entirely.”
“Camera sensors are too big and too slow. They read a limited bandwidth of light. This is different. I have to both transmit and capture light.”
“Then design a new sensor.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Her voice was tinged with sarcasm. “If only I had thought of that.”
He spun the captain’s chair around to her and bent down so that they were eye to eye. “You’re working too hard. Maybe step away from it for a while. Mentally divide the problem into its components and let each simmer. Step by step,” he said, “Find a way to optically generate the signal first.”
“Doing so requires a perfect crystal capable of transmitting every wavelength. Great in theory; hard in practice.”
“Why every wavelength?”
“It would be most efficient.”
“Not if you can’t make it work. You don’t need to use the entire electromagnetic spectrum. Get close enough. Fuzzy math doesn’t require perfection,” Ridley argued, “Diffraction computing is all about being close enough, fast enough. Augment the design with a traditional microprocessor for those calculations that need precision.”
Diane gazed at the pattern of waves and how the light sparkled through them. “I thought about a maze of mirrors. Maybe prisms that direct different wavelengths to different sensors.”
“See… That’s the kind of thinking you need,” he said with encouragement, “Think broadly. Brainstorm. If you can’t make this work, no one can. I have faith in you.”
“I don’t know…”
“Great people have more failures than successes. Just keep throwing ideas at the wall until one sticks.”
She was curt. “I appreciate your patience.”
A delivery drone passed above them, high in the sky.
Kelly grew restless. “We should get home,” Diane said.
“There’s something I want to show you first.”
Ridley started the engine and they flew around the point. The boat bounced gently up and down. Diane would not admit that she found the speed invigorating. A white spray flew into the air behind them. Ridley steered the boat in a tight circle until they came to a stop again. She spied her cottage in the distance and the tree-lined site of Ridley’s future mansion on the point. A crane hovered over the steel frame as concrete was pumped into vertical forms. Several bungalows peeked from the trees. Ridley pointed at a sprawling Craftsman home nestled amidst evergreens. “Do you like that house?”
She knew Ridley well enough to understand why he brought her onto the water. “Don’t tell me you bought the Henderson’s home?”
“I close on it tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to buy the rest of the neighborhood—the entire point. I want a wall separating us from the rest of the island in case something happens again.”
“In case something happens?”
“It’s just a matter of time.”
Diane studied the fine details on the classic shingled home. “That home is gorgeous. You can’t tear that down.”
“You can have it if you want.”
“Ridley… No. That’s too much.”
“You’ll have access through the gate. Or I can build you a new house, if you prefer.”
She crossed her arms and turned from him. “Why would you do this? Wouldn’t t
hat money have been better spent as a down-payment on a high-temperature printer?”
“I thought every princess dreamed of castles. Isn’t that right, Kelly?”
Kelly shivered in the chilly air.
Diane tucked Kelly’s yellow blanket around her. “I’m hardly a princess,” Diane said, “I don’t know why you have to be so condescending. This was reckless.”
“The house came onto the market. I had to move.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Do you want the house or not?”
“No. Let’s get moving. I have work to do and it’s time for Kelly’s dinner.”
Diane relished the quiet morning as she sat at her desk sketching on a tablet. Ridley had not yet arrived at the office, presumably sleeping in. The unexpected trip onto the water had helped Diane to see the solution. As Kelly napped, she studied the conductivity and photo-reactivity of various liquids at room temperature. The retina of the human eye was awash in water — thousands of tiny sensors embedded in a gel. A composite sensor covered with a layer of superconducting fluid would create a lens that could focus the data onto a pinpoint while retaining the optical signature. The signal could be split by a prism to different sensors that would process each wavelength independently.
She sketched out a rough schematic of the sensor on a tablet and then projected it onto the wall-screen. The small button, twenty millimeters wide, would process terabytes of data at once by merging optical data over multiple wavelengths. A second sensor embedded under it would sense magnetic fields. The data could then be converted into an electrical signal for transmission. Emitters, fixed with micro-LEDs, would generate waveforms in multiple wavelengths — from infrared to ultraviolet — from opposing points that would merge and diffract within the processor. Diane held her hand in the air and rotated the design virtually.
Her mind mulled how to construct the sensor. High-temperature printing would be one part of the process, but compressing argon gas into a fluid and holding it in a microtubule would be challenging. Other gases might work better. She needed a proper laboratory to tinker. She needed to test composites. If she said anything to Ridley, he would insist they go to Cerenovo. She needed the lab Ridley had proposed for the basement of the mansion. “No…” she said to herself, “I’ll make it work here.”
Diane began examining a culture of nanocrystals under a microscope. The solution had been contaminated; bacteria grew within. She would have to start again.
Diane wondered if Ridley ever caught onto her games as she placed a hot latte in front of him. “Thought you’d like something different this morning.”
She pulled a takeout box from a bag. “Casper’s had a two for one special on their breakfast sandwiches.”
“What do you want?”
She waved her hand at the wall-screen and a design for the buttonlike sensor appeared. “I’ve figured out how to read optical signals. But I need a lab to test microtubules filled with compressed gases. I’m having trouble growing the crystals. The cultures keep getting contaminated.”
Ridley unwrapped the sandwich. Cheese dripped from the edges. “Unfortunately, the mansion is behind schedule.”
“I’m stuck. I have some ideas about growing nanotubules. I can’t do those things here. My lab-bench isn’t big enough and I really need a clean-room — not to mention that I don’t even have a fume hood.”
“How close are you to finishing?”
“That’s my point. I can’t do any more without some trial and error.”
She walked him through the design. She zoomed in on the image and rotated it as she explained how the device would read diffraction patterns. She zoomed to microtubules that would connect individual cells. “This is all theory,” she said, “I need to experiment with some of this to see if it will work.”
Ridley studied the image, zooming in on the sensor. “How big is this? Ten centimeters?”
She was insulted. “It’s twenty millimeters.”
His eyes grew wide. “What? Twenty-millimeters? You’re serious?”
“If I can make it work.”
Ridley continued studying the design. “I’m not even sure what I’m looking at,” he said, “This is so different from anything out there. Is this pushing things too far?”
“You wanted me to push the boundaries of what is possible, didn’t you?”
“Yes… But… This is decades ahead of everything that’s out there. I just wonder… At some point, we need a workable device. I don’t want to spin our wheels for much longer. We can’t chase theory forever.”
“The mathematics are sound. The models say it’ll work.”
She walked him through how the system worked. Ridley followed along with great interest. When she was done, he was convinced, and nearly speechless. “This is going to be groundbreaking.”
“So, you’ll rent a proper lab space?”
Ridley walked to the window and stared at the quiet street. “I wish I could. My finances are stretched thin.”
“But Ridley... This is a priority.”
“I’ll ask Sven to rush things at the mansion.”
Diane was perturbed. “You’re going to rush the mansion when there are lab spaces in the city sitting empty? That makes no sense.”
“It’ll only be a few months.”
“You’re dreaming. It’s almost winter. They’ll have to quit work soon.”
“They can tent the worksite.”
“Seriously? Give the crew some extra time to build your mansion right. That would help with your finances. Let them do the mansion the way you want it to be built and put your business first. No shortcuts.”
Ridley seemed ashamed. A car passed on the street. “Even if we rent a lab, don’t you still need access to a high temperature printer?”
“Yes, but we can go to the University.”
“Samuel said we could use the Cerenovo lab. No charge.”
Diane cringed. “We talked about this when I came to work for you. You agreed that I would never need to enter the Cerenovo Tower again.”
“They have all the tools you need.”
“That wasn’t our agreement,” she said in protest.
Ridley sat at his desk. He pulled up a contract on his screen and then swiped it onto the wall-screen. “I signed a deal with Samuel a few months ago. It includes a non-disclosure agreement. There is no danger of them leaking your research.”
Diane fumed as she studied the document. “You never told me about this.”
“Samuel pressured me into it. They get first right of refusal to develop any medical devices that we patent. In exchange, we get to use their resources.”
“This isn’t a medical device,” she said.
“Exactly. That’s why the deal is a good one. The lab space will be free.”
Diane reminded him, “Do you really want the Cerenovo board controlling your business?”
“They won’t. The contract is clear.”
“I can’t go back there. I won’t.”
“Then you’ll have to wait until the lab in the mansion is done.”
“What do you want me to do until then? Keep ruining experiments?”
“I don’t know what else to tell you.”
She paced the room. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had a right to know.”
“Does it bother you that much?”
“Yes. You lied to me. You can spend millions on that monstrosity on the hill and a new speedboat, but nothing on a lab that might actually show a return on investment.”
“You’d only be working at Cerenovo until the mansion is done.”
“Is there no other way?”
“Not that I can see.”
She would not make eye contact.
“Don’t be mad at me. This was a business decision. Samuel had me over a barrel.”
“Just what do you want me to do? Celebrate? They’re going to steal everything we do.”
“You don’t trust Everett and Wes?”
“I
don’t trust Samuel.”
Ridley stood and squatted next to her desk. “We don’t have time to build a network of angel investors. This is a practical way to continue.”
“Practical? There must be another way.”
“I’m all ears,” he said.
Diane paced the floor. “I have an old college friend who hit it big in online addiction treatment. He might help.”
“People won’t invest without a prototype.”
“He’s invested in crazier things.”
“Who is it?”
“You don’t know him. He lives in Phoenix. We dated in college.”
Chapter Four
Had Weldon Cross been an actor, Diane was certain that he could have played James Bond. His British accent, gym-sculpted body, and dapper clothing suggested an old-school aristocrat rather than a member of the nouveau riche. She supposed that he intentionally wanted to project the aura that he came from nobility rather than the dregs of London’s slums. “Diane, how long has it been?”
His hug was confident. His smile showed perfect teeth that were too white to be anything but lab-grown.
“It’s been years,” she said, “I was in Phoenix on business and thought I should stop to say ‘Hi’.”
“What is your business here?”
They sat in two leather armchairs next to a huge window overlooking the desert. Diane bathed in the brilliance of his blue eyes. “I’m working on a new processor design. Our company is looking into the potential for domestic manufacturing.”
“Domestic manufacturing of computer processors? That’s new. Free trade seems like a distant memory now. I never thought I’d see the return of protectionism,” he said, “But I guess it’s the way ahead. Why pay Chinese wages when you can fund robotic workers who don’t strike?”
She replied nervously, “It’s only the designs that change anyway. Production can be moved anywhere.”
“Or stolen as the case may be,” he said pointedly, “I don’t know why you work for that Seattle bloke after what he did.”
“You know about that?”
“Who doesn’t? Your design was cutting-edge. Edmund certainly wasn’t the brains behind that. And that crazy Fiona could never have designed an optical processor. She’s a common thief.”
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