Free The Stolen by T. S. Learner Page A

little dangerous.
    â€˜Colonel Guy Peterson. I’m here to represent US interests,
official
US interests. Congratulations, Herr Professor, I’m not often impressed.’
    Matthias withdrew his hand – the colonel made him feel slightly claustrophobic, as if his sheer mass were squeezing him out of the room. Matthias couldn’t help noticing that the people standing closest to them had stepped away, as if Peterson might be known to some of them. He wished they’d vetted the guest list a little more thoroughly.
    â€˜DARPA and I have a history,’ he said, not bothering to disguise his tone.
    â€˜Herr Professor, you are being deliberately naive. Both you and I know the immense potential superconductivity at standard room temperature could bring to the military field. Tanks and armed vehicles that don’t require refuelling, super-fast weapons, fighter jets, laser guns… Need I go on?’
    â€˜You’re wasting your time. DARPA knows I’m opposed to the military application of superconductivity. Perhaps you should have done your own research a little more efficiently?’
    Matthias turned and was about to walk away when Peterson grabbed him by the elbow.
    â€˜From what I hear Daddy’s closed the bank.’ His voice was soft enough for just Matthias to hear. ‘And you and I both know that the use of superconductivity in the military field is inevitable. When it happens, I strongly suggest it would be in your own interests, and in the interests of Switzerland itself, that the application should fall into the hands of the good guys.’
    â€˜The good guys?’ Matthias said, shaking his arm free. ‘Surely that’s a matter of opinion.’
    â€˜It’s a matter of
fact
, Herr Professor.’
    Matthias hesitated, just for a second, but it was the opening Peterson was looking for; he leaned forward and now Matthias could smell the expensive aftershave. ‘We are willing to fund the next stage of your research in its entirety, the only proviso being that DARPA would have sole ownership of any patents or superconductors devised within the laboratory for at least ten years.’
    It was outrageous, a prison sentence for all innovation Matthias might devise, but it was also a clear indication of how much his work was valued. Suddenly Matthias didn’t feel so bad; his personal stock, as well as that of his laboratory, had just shot up. There was a change in the atmosphere around him, as if the people near him sensed serious business was being discussed. Over Peterson’s broad shoulder Matthias caught the gaze of Destin Viscon, the businessman he’d met at the door. Within audible distance, he appeared intensely interested in Matthias’s conversation. Matthias glanced back at the American.
    â€˜Sorry, not for sale.’
    For a moment Peterson looked at him blankly, then his expression transformed into one of quiet fury.
    â€˜You’re naive and you will fail,’ he hissed, as if damning him, then raised his voice so that it could be heard by others. ‘I’ll leave my number with your assistant in case you change your mind.’ Without looking back, he pushed his way through the throng and out of the room.
    Matthias reached for another glass of champagne. All he really wanted to do at that moment was to get back into the laboratory and dive back into the relatively uncomplicated world of atomic structures and chemical equations. Philosophising was dangerous; he couldn’t afford to project, far better to focus on the immediate and immense task just in front of him. He was a scientist, and a man of practical application dedicated to solving an enigma. The aftermath of discovery was not his concern – then superconductivity would belong to the world. He wondered what Marie would have advised. Unlike him she had been a believer in the higher nature of man. A Catholic, his wife had struggled with his atheism and was