SIMON WAS LITERALLY dancing in his office. On top of his desk.
“Come on, David,” he said. “This is worth a little victory celebration.”
David just watched. “Seems a little premature to me.” He held up the invitation that had been in his company mailbox when he arrived that morning. “We’re not even in clinical trials yet, and you’re having a party?”
The invite was beautiful: thick embossed paper, trimmed with gold, asking the recipient to attend Conquest Biotech’s “latest breakthrough on the frontiers of medicine.” There had been a press release emailed companywide that morning as well.
Simon gave David a scolding look and kept on dancing. “Are you worried your discovery isn’t going to hold up?”
“No, but—”
“There you go. You know it works, and I know it works. We need the stock jump and the good news after the Revita mess. So what’s the problem?”
Simon had already tested David’s formula. Personally. He’d taken the next available sample of the hydrogel and, before David could stop him, drank it down in a single gulp. For a split second, David had worried he’d just killed his boss. But then Simon had sucked in a deep breath and said, “Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.”
A battery of tests on Simon confirmed it. As young as Simon was, he’d done a lot of hard living. But all the damage to his liver and pancreas was healed in an instant. David even saw regrowth of hair and the disappearance of a few tiny crow’s-feet around Simon’s eyes.
That was all the proof Simon needed. So he was throwing a party. Perfectly in character, David figured.
But something kept nagging at him. That was why he was here; it wasn’t just the party. Something had occurred to him, late at night, while Shy slept beside him. Now he had to know if he was right.
David took a small vial from his pocket and tossed it to Simon. Simon caught it one-handed without missing a beat.
“What’s this?”
“What’s left of the original sample of the Water. I don’t need it anymore.”
“You call it the Water?”
“Yeah. Seemed like the most fitting name. Why?”
Simon smiled like he’d just heard a dirty joke. “No reason. You should hang on to this. Like a souvenir.”
“I don’t need it. My formula works, remember? And I’m healthy enough. I don’t need to use either of them.”
“You’re going to be in a minority in a very short while, then,” Simon said. “Once we hit the market with this, people are going to pay any price for it. Youth in a bottle. Perfect health, available with a prescription. Ask your doctor about it today. That reminds me, I’ve got to get marketing on the line about names for this. What do you think? Genesis? Too biblical? Well. Whatever we call it, people are going to mortgage their children to pay for this stuff, David.”
“No. No, they’re not.”
Simon stopped dancing. “Excuse me?”
David took a deep breath. Then he asked the question. “How long have you been using the Water yourself, Simon?”
Simon stopped cold. The smile, the dancing, every piece of the happy-little-party-animal act he liked to display to the world—it all froze up like a defective ride at Disneyland.
David could practically see the calculations running behind Simon’s eyes, weighing the chances of effectively denying it, of lying his way out of this.
Evidently, the odds weren’t good. Simon hopped down from the desk and straightened up, ironing the slouch out of his shoulders and the smirk off his face. He relaxed and seemed, in an instant, a more solemn and impressive man.
“I suppose I should have realized you would work it out,” he said. Even his voice had dropped half an octave. “I must be getting complacent in my old age.”
“Just how old is that?”
Simon smiled. “More than you need to know right now, David. But yes. I have been using the Water for some time now.”
“The others, too. Max, Peter, Sebastian?”
“Of course. How long have you known?”
“I’m actually a little ashamed it took me this long to figure it out,” David said. “All those comments about your father. But I thought because the Water was scarce, it would be too valuable to waste without a viable replacement. That’s backward. The reason it’s scarce is because you’ve been using it. And when you began to run out, that’s when you came to me for a replacement. Isn’t that right?”
“More or less. Don’t feel bad, though. Only a few people have guessed before you did.”
“I still should have seen it. Of course you’ve been using the Water yourself. Who wouldn’t want to be young and healthy all the time?”
“Better than Viagra and Rogaine combined,” Simon agreed. “The question now is, what do you intend to do about it?”
David took a deep breath. Now or never.
“Everyone gets the cure,” he said. “Everyone. When it’s ready and cleared for market, you agree to make my discovery available on a discounted basis, worldwide.”
“You’re serious.”
David nodded.
“Such an idealist. What if I say no? What then?”
“I’m the only one who knows how my cure works. If you want it, you’ll do what I say. Or you can age, just like the rest of us. How old are you, anyway, Simon?”
“How old do you think?”
David shrugged. It had never really occurred to him to guess. He didn’t care that much. “I don’t know. A hundred?”
“Interesting guess. Why a hundred?”
“I don’t know,” David admitted. “I guess it’s because you’re still so good at being childish. I figure if you were much older, you’d have grown up a little more.”
Simon’s smile went cold. “That’s one perspective,” he said, then changed the subject. “What if I take you to court? You’ve got a contract.”
“Go ahead. The courts are slow. How long can you wait without my cure?”
“I could do considerably worse than sue you. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your attention that I have a lot of men with guns around here.”
“You can’t risk hurting me. If I die, you die. Eventually.”
The tension between the two of them stretched and sang for a long moment.
Then Simon laughed. “You really believe you’ve got this all figured out.”
David couldn’t be sure if Simon was mocking him or not. He decided it didn’t matter. “Well, not to brag, but I am a pretty smart guy.”
“All right,” Simon said. “I’ll do it. On one condition. You sign away any rights you have to profit from your work.”
Now it was David’s turn to freeze up. “What?”
“Ah, there it is,” Simon said. “I’m offering you exactly what you want. But you have to return the house, the car, everything we bought you. And whatever meager profits we get after curing the world remain ours alone. Nothing for you. Are you willing to pay the price for your ideals, David?”
David hesitated for only a second longer. Simon had just threatened his life, after all. He handled that. He could handle being poor again.
“Fine,” he said. “Draw up whatever papers you need. I’ll give up my profits as long as everyone gets a fair shot at this. Maybe you were just looking for a way for you and your friends to keep living like young morons for many more years to come. You might have been bullshitting me about saving the world. But you’re going to do it anyway. I’m going to make sure of it.”
Simon spoke slowly, as though to an idiot or a child. “David. You are giving up literally billions of dollars.”
“In the end, more people are going to live. That’s enough for me.”
“And what about our little secret?”
David shrugged. “You mean the fact that you took something amazing, something that could have benefited humanity, and used it selfishly, kept it hidden, and exploited it? That’s going to have to be between you and your conscience. Who’d even believe me if I told them? Simon, you’re going to mass-produce a cure for almost all disease in the world. I can live with whatever it’s taken you to get here.”
“You seem fairly sure about that.”
“I can live with it. I’m sure.”
Simon shook his head in disbelief. “All right. I’ll make your deal. The cure will be made available to all. And you will not see a penny of it. You get to be a saint. I promise.”
“I’m not interested in sainthood, Simon. I just want to do the right thing.”
Simon looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “I believe you do.”
David had heard that before. He turned to go.
Simon stopped him.
“David, for the party: you might want to buy a new suit. You’re not poor yet.”