Ronald Sweet was breathless when he met the consultant named Khan that night in his office.
“I know the hour is late,” he apologized, “but I had to tell someone.”
“It’s quite all right, Professor,” Khan assured him. His silver hook glinted in the fluorescent lights of the laboratory. “I take it you have good news?”
Sweet beamed. “With apologies to Archimedes, ‘Eureka!’” The professor was giddy with excitement. “I’ve tested and retested the latest results, and there can be no doubt. The process works. It works, you hear?” Unable to restrain his enthusiasm, he did a little jig.
“Easy, professor, easy,” Khan chuckled. “You haven’t shared this with anyone else, have you?”
The professor stopped and caught his breath. “No, of course not,” he said. “I mean, even if I could get the press to listen, I agree with you that the release of this news, the reveal of the…the 3DNA Sweet-Print device—” he bubbled with glee again at the prospect of the printer being named after him “—has to be handled with the utmost delicacy.”
“Good, good,” Khan reassured him. “So glad you understand that. And don’t you worry, professor,” he said. “Within days you’ll be a household name, again—but for a good reason this time.” He winked at the professor, who blanched at the reminder of his embarrassing mistake earlier.
“You just have to keep this under wraps a little while longer,” Khan added. “Don’t tell a living soul. Promise?”
“Absolutely,” Sweet said, trembling. To emphasize his promise, he pantomimed closing a zipper across his mouth.
“Good man,” Khan said. “I’m going to go make some necessary arrangements, and you’ll hear back from me soon. Try to get some sleep now. You’re still staying at the lab?”
“I was thinking about going back home,” he said. “I think I can finally rest now.”
“And you should,” Khan said. “But…who will guard the technology?”
The professor’s eyes widened. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I mean, the security in the building is good, but still.”
“Do you think you could stay here just a few more days? I’ll be glad to bring in anything you might need.”
Sweet nodded vigorously. “Yes, absolutely,” he said. “Thank you so much, Mr. Khan.”
· · ·
Less than an hour later, a bleary-eyed Dick Joplin stalked into his office.
“Are you kidding me,” he blared. “Are you seriously fucking kidding me?”
“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Joplin.” Khan sat confidently at Joplin’s expansive desk, the fingers of one hand steepled against the side of the hook that replaced his other.
“It’s 2 a.m.!” Joplin roared. “A.m. means ‘after midnight,’” he reiterated.
“Well, time and tide wait for no man,” Khan said, getting up. “It’s time for the next move.”
Joplin blinked. “You called a face-to-face for this now? That’s what this is all about?”
“Up until now, we’ve been playing games,” Khan continued. “We got their attention. We struck a nerve.” He walked around the desk and stood nose to nose with Joplin. “It’s time for a major artery.”
“Major artery,” Joplin repeated, dazedly.
“Those trucks are still getting through, Dick,” Khan said softly. “People won’t ship by air when ground transportation is still available, and much cheaper.”
“No,” he said. “No, they won’t.” He could feel his body calming and settling as he listened to his advisor.
“Are you going to play the game, Dick Joplin?” Khan asked.
Joplin blinked. “We’ve got to hit a major artery,” he repeated slowly.
Khan smiled. “Glad we agree,” he said.
· · ·
Professor Ronald Sweet slept in fits and starts. Unable to drift off at first, so excited was he about the breakthrough, he finally had a brandy to calm his nerves. After that, he kept waking up from nightmares of him standing before a crowd of people, demonstrating his device in action, but all that came out of it were plastic flying saucers, and the people would laugh and jeer derisively.
At 3 a.m. he sat up on the cot in his lab and glanced around the room. He had a feeling that he was not alone, a feeling he’d had on several nights since his abduction. “There was nobody in the room then,” he said aloud to himself. “And there’s nobody in the room now.”
He lay back on the cot and pulled the blanket under his chin, balling the edges up in his fists. Moments later he was back asleep.
And moments after that, Professor Ronald Sweet was once again lifted out of his bed by someone who had been there all along, unheard and unseen.