The Lawless One and the End of Time

by Lonnie Pacelli

  Paul got his coffee, sat down on an old fabric chair in the quietest corner of the coffee shop. “I’m back, what’s up?”

  “They want to work with me, but I’m not the boss and they’re going to have other stuffed shirts running the business. I’m only responsible for developing the technology. And they want 70 percent of the company!”

  “Are they gonna pay you a salary?”

  “Yeah. 150,000 hera.” The most Caleb had ever made in a year at the shipyard was 30,000 hera, barely enough to support his partying lifestyle, let alone live on his own.

  “And they’re gonna surround you with people to help you succeed?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “What’s the downside?”

  “I’m not the boss and I lose 70 percent of the company.”

  Paul took a sip of his latte. “For sure you want to look at the details, but you need help to pull this off. Even if you’re not the boss now, you could become the boss after you’ve proven yourself. And 30 percent of a successful company is better than 100 percent of a failure.”

  There it was, the failure word again. The image of Caleb Todd, Master of Failure headstone flashed in his head.

  “Yeah, you might be right. I’ll look at the details and keep an open mind.”

  “Good. It’s getting pretty loud in here so I’m gonna go. Take care, Cuz.”

  Caleb got to his favorite place at Villa Comunale, his imaginary friends waiting there for him. He wrestled with what to do, getting input from each of his friends. Paul was right, he needed to look at the details of the deal and not be so pigheaded about the 70 percent and not being the boss. He decided to keep the arrangement from his family until he knew it was a done deal.

  Caleb received Pagnozzi’s detailed offer two days later. He immediately sent it to Paul so they could go through all the fine print together. Paul urged him to have an attorney in Naples look at the deal, which he did. Caleb, his attorney, and Pagnozzi agreed on language and signed the deal the following week. The first thing Caleb did was call Paul to let him know it was a go, then went to the shipyard to quit his job. That evening he got home and told his parents the good news. His brothers Frank and Philip were both there. They both listened intently to the details, then Philip asked about salary. “So how much are you going to make?”

  “150,000 hera.” Both Philip and Frank were astounded. Neither of them had ever made more than 50,000 hera a year at the shipyard.

  “Good job, Caleb,” Frank said. Caleb couldn’t decide if he were more stunned at Frank giving him a compliment or Frank using Caleb’s name as opposed to “Squirt,” “Little One,” “Doofus,” or the many other derogatory nicknames he had used over the years. Either way, he would take it.

  “Thanks, Frank.”

  The next day, Caleb met with Pagnozzi and HoloMate’s new CEO in Pagnozzi’s conference room. Caleb recognized him as one of the investors from the day he pitched HoloMate to Pagnozzi and his partners.

  Pagnozzi was all business. “Caleb, this is Vincent Guardino. You may remember him from our meeting. He is one of our private equity partners and is particularly impressed with HoloMate. He approached me after the meeting about being HoloMate’s CEO for a few years while we got it off the ground.”

  “Hello, Caleb. Looking forward to working together.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m not going to mince words,” Vincent put his game face on. “If we’re going to be successful, it’s going to be HoloMate day and night. There’s a ton to do and we’ve got three years to show profitability. I want to make sure you’re in it 100 percent. Are you?”

  “Yes, Vincent.”

  “Great. I’ve got some office space in city center that we’ll use to set up shop. Let’s go there after we’re done and get to work.”

  Vincent hired a CFO, Janet DeNitto, to manage the money and COO, Liza Martino, to scale the operation. Two years of 18-hour days followed. They honed the skin-sensing technology, a hologram touch was simultaneously felt on the real person. Martino and her team built out the social connection platform and created HoloRooms where HoloMate friends could meet. DeNitto and her team developed the revenue strategy. HoloMate friends could offer to be a friend for free or could set their hourly rate for friendship. The better and more popular a HoloMate friend, the more they could charge. The hourly rate was split 50-50 between the friend and HoloMate Corporate.

  The HoloMate platform launched on Caleb’s twenty-sixth birthday, August 21, 2042. The HoloMate team gathered in their conference room for the big moment. They watched as HoloMate came online and the glasses went on sale. As cheers erupted, Caleb closed his eyes and pressed his hands together in front of his mouth as if praying. “I hope this works,” he thought.

  Three, Two, One

  2066

  T he HoloMate reporter pulled out his mirror, checked his teeth for stuck food, and slicked down the few wayward hairs on his head. “Ten seconds,” he heard his producer say in his earpiece. He put on his HoloMate glasses, took a deep breath, then heard “three, two, one.”

  “This is Aaron Moskowitz from HoloMate News. I’m on location at the Europe Ethnarchy Embassy in Jerusalem. We have reports that Paul Ambrosi, Salvatore Carlotta, and Caleb Todd, all 50 years old, have been shot.”

  The scene behind Aaron was one of chaos. It was still raining, but the wind had calmed to a more gentle breeze. It wasn’t known whether it was just one or more shooters, or where they were when they fired. Israeli Defense Force soldiers were standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the embassy entrance, with IDF sharpshooters positioned on its roof.

  A witness was standing by, ready to be interviewed. Aaron handed her a pair of HoloMate glasses so she could appear as a hologram in the broadcast.

  “Tell me what happened,” Aaron asked the witness.

  “The three were walking into the embassy, then there was a thump thump thump.” She punched her fist with each thump.

  “What direction did the shots come from?” Aaron asked.

  “I dunno, I just heard the thumps then I turned around and saw the three on the ground. Their security immediately swarmed them and everyone just started running.”

  “Where were you when you heard the thumps?”

  The already-rattled witness started to cry.

  “I was inside the embassy gates, it happened about ten meters behind me. I’m sorry.” She apologized as she lifted her HoloMate glasses to wipe her eyes, interrupting the hologram transmission.

  “It’s OK, thank you for your time.” Aaron took her glasses from her, her hologram disappearing. Aaron held his earpiece to his ear so he could hear his producer’s voice over the chaos behind him.

  “My producer is telling me that Ambrosi and Carlotta were shot in the head and Todd in the arm. They’re all en route to Jerusalem Health. As we know more we’ll let you know. Stay tuned to HoloMate News for the latest.”

  Aaron waited for the “And we’re off” in his earpiece. He took off his HoloSpecs, looked around at the pandemonium, and just shook his head. “This is going to be bad for Israel,” he thought.

  Gene the Lab Rat

  2041

  S al decided to return to Italy after graduating from Columbia. He didn’t even attend graduation, why bother? There was no one he wanted to invite anyway. His father, perhaps feeling a bit of guilt, had tried to reach out to Sal several times over the past few years, each attempt ignored. Sal’s anger toward his father continued to simmer, particularly when he thought about his mother, how Gene emotionally abused her through the years, and left Sal to tend to his mother when she was dying. Trying to make amends, Gene offered to arrange an introduction to a Rome-based private equity firm that specialized in biomedical engineering. Sal may have been bitter, but he wasn’t one to pass up on a great opportunity. It was the first time he responded to his father in years, and he only did it because he was getting something he wanted. It would be the last time he talked to his father.

  Sal met with Louisa Test
a, the private equity firm founder and managing partner on October 24, 2041 at Testa’s offices in the Monti ward in Rome. Sal showed up with Gene, his lab rat.

  “Thanks for meeting with me, Ms. Testa.” Sal said.

  “Pleasure is mine. What’s in the tub?” Sal was holding a small white plastic tub with a carrying handle and holes punched in the top.

  “My lab rat, Gene.”

  Louisa smirked. She picked up on Sal naming the rat after his father.

  “Ms. Testa, I’d . . .”

  Louisa interrupted. “Call me Lou.”

  “OK, Lou.” Sal took a deep breath, “My research involved creating a microfluidic chip which, when saline-populated with dormant liver cells, regenerated a damaged liver into a healthy liver. I want to use my project to start a company to research cancer eradication through genetically engineered synthetic killer cells.”

  “Does the company have a name?”

  “MD Biometrics.”

  “MD meaning medical doctor?”

  “It’s after my mother Marie Desmond.”

  “Eradicate cancer, pretty ambitious,” Lou said. She noticed Sal kept stealing glances at her chest when he thought she wasn’t looking. She had done research of her own on Sal and his project. She saw potential but didn’t like his wandering eyes. It fit in with what she had already heard about Sal. “We’ve done our own research on your work, including talking with Dean Andrews at Columbia. You’ve got quite the reputation as a brilliant, 25-year-old arrogant ass. Why should I invest in you?”

  Sal wasn’t prepared for her blunt assessment. He could either prove that he was an arrogant ass and give her a flip response or take the high road and tell her why she should invest in him.

  “Thank you, Lou.” Sal decided on the latter. “Two reasons. First, the dormant cell regeneration through a microfluidic membrane is the first of its kind anywhere. I transformed a damaged liver to a healthy liver and kept it healthy in 27 preclinical experiments. The technology applications are limitless. Second, I have a personal passion for eradicating cancer. My mother died of it and it’s my life’s ambition to get rid of it forever. My knowledge coupled with passion is what we need to make living in a cancer-free world a reality.”

  Lou was impressed with Sal’s ability to think on his feet and not get rattled by her calling him an arrogant ass. While she still had reservations about Sal’s character, she saw the potential in his research.

  “Sal, I want you to talk with some of my partners who understand the technology a lot better than I do. I’ll get with them, then I’ll let you know what we’d be willing to do, if anything.”

  “Happy to do.” Sal continued with his humbled tone. “Let me know who and when, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Perfect, thank you for coming by, Sal.” Lou rang her assistant. “Nicholas, would you show Sal out, please?” A few seconds later Nicholas opened the door.

  Sal stood up. “Thank you, Lou.” He reached out to shake her hand. Staying seated, she extended her arm and gave him a firm I’m-in-charge handshake. “We’ll be in contact, Sal.” She said.

  Nicholas held the door for Sal as he walked out of the office, through the lobby and out of the building. Sal hated being put on the spot like that. She was tough and wasn’t going to put up with any nonsense. He had to act humble until he had more investor offers, then he could be tougher when he was in a more powerful negotiating position. That was his plan, nice until more offers came, then be an arrogant ass to try to get the best deal possible.

  Over the next four weeks, Sal met with six different partners and experts recommended by Lou. He took Gene the rat to every appointment. Sal explained how Gene’s damaged liver was fully repaired using the microfluidic chip and dormant liver cells, and how he had now been healthy for two years with additional saline treatments. He also contacted five other investors to discuss his research and alternatives to fund his work moving forward. He envisioned by end of November having six investor offers to choose from, then turning the screws on his investor of choice to get his most favored terms. Great plan on paper, reality was another thing.

  By the end of November, he had heard from five of the six, all rejections. All of them cited that, while the technology was interesting, Sal’s desire to focus his work exclusively on curing cancer was too high of a risk for them to take. The only one he’d yet to hear from was Louisa’s firm. He considered calling them to find out where they were in their decision, but didn’t want to appear too eager or, even worse, desperate. The rejections shook his confidence. “Don’t they see the potential here?” he thought over and over again. “I know I can do it, they don’t know what they’re missing!” As much as Sal didn’t want to admit it, he was growing frantic that no one was going to fund his dream. He decided to give it until after the new year, then if he didn’t hear from Louisa he would scrap the whole idea and look for a job working for someone else.

  On December 17 he got a call. “Sal, this is Lou Testa.”

  Buone Feste

  2041

  S al closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Hi, Lou.” He braced himself for rejection number six.

  “My partners are pretty impressed with your research and love your cancer passion. We’ve been running some numbers and have a proposal to present. Can you come in tomorrow and talk with me and a few of my partners?”

  He had already set his expectations that come January he would be looking at other jobs. Now there was a glimmer of hope that he could pursue his dream. Wanting to play it cool, Sal responded as if he’d have to fit them in, even though his calendar was wide open. “I’ve got from two to three available tomorrow. Will that work?”

  “I can do from one to two.”

  “OK, I’ll be at your office at one.”

  “Good. See you tomorrow.” Sal heard the beep of Lou hanging up. “A proposal!” Sal thought. “Are they going to let me focus on cancer? How much of the company will they want? Will I have to report to someone else? Anyone but Lou!” There were very few women who intimidated Sal. He was so used to knowing how to manipulate women to get what he wanted. Lou was different. She wasn’t charmed by Sal. She wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought. And she’d kick his butt if he got out of line. She reminded him of the counselor at Columbia who told him he could never get his Ph.D. in seven years. The counselor didn’t have authority over him, but Lou would. And the thought of a woman holding him accountable drove him nuts.

  Sal showed up at Lou’s office the next day at one. Lou’s assistant Nicholas escorted Sal into a stark conference room next to Lou’s office. The conference room had a round folding table surrounded by eight metal folding chairs. The ceiling and walls were white with a projector hanging from the middle of the ceiling. A single whiteboard was on one wall, stained with old markings that wouldn’t completely erase and a scribbling where someone used black permanent marker on the board. “They’ll be here in a couple minutes,” Nicholas told Sal, then shut the door as he left Sal alone in the conference room.

  Sal stood in the room for five minutes, too nervous to sit. He went to the whiteboard, looking at the black permanent marker. He remembered a trick at Columbia where you could color over permanent marker with a dry erase marker then erase it, removing the permanent marker. Sal scribbled over the black with a red marker, then erased the scribble. Black mark gone. He put the eraser down just as Lou and four of her partners came in.

  “How did you do that?” she asked after seeing the board where the black squiggle used to be.

  “Color over the permanent marker with whiteboard marker, then erase it. Voila!”

  “Industrious, been staring at that for years. Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Sal, you may remember Linda Quaranta, Natasha Anosov, Uwe Lutz, and Carmine Galluzzi.”

  “Certainly.” Sal shook hands with each. Then they all sat down.

  Linda was first to speak. “Sal, your research is brilliant.”


  “Thank you, Linda.”

  Linda continued. “We love your cancer passion and know how important this is to you, having lost your mother to cancer. Our deepest condolences on your mother’s passing.”

  Sal gave Linda a gracious smile. “Thank you.”

  “We believe you have what it takes to find the cure to cancer and want to partner with you. We’re willing to fund your research for two years. After that if there’s no viable cure, we refocus the work on broad-scale organ regeneration. You can be CEO and chief scientist and we will supply a CFO and COO. You will also be accountable to a board of directors comprised of the five of us with Lou as the chairman. You keep 40 percent ownership in the company and we retain 60.”

  Sal was busy taking notes on Linda’s points when he heard Lou speak. “Sal, I want to make sure you understand how we do things. As you can see by the no-frills conference room, we run very lean here. We’re a no-nonsense operation, watch our expenses like a hawk, and don’t put up with BS. We have a strict code-of-conduct policy, adopted by all our companies. As part of your employment contract you will sign a code-of-conduct agreement which we expect you to follow to the letter. Any violation, and we immediately terminate you and buy out your 40 percent. You toe the line and there will be no problems. I wanted to tell you about it before you saw your employment agreement, so you knew it was coming. Understood?”

  Lou made sure Sal knew who was boss. She knew of his past at Columbia and thought he was a pompous jerk. She didn’t like that he was checking her out during their first meeting. She was concerned Sal was going do something and give Lou and her partners legal headaches.

  “I understand, Lou.” Sal managed a courteous response even though on the inside he was smoldering. It didn’t matter that he earned his jackass reputation and that Lou was just protecting the interests of her investor group.