***
Dr. Carlson was just how Daniel remembered him: undeniably obnoxious. The two of them had spent the last three hours in a car together on their way through rush-hour traffic to meet with one of Dr. Carlson’s colleagues.
Daniel did have to admit he was slightly impressed that Dr. Carlson had managed to secure a facility to restart his work. Which was primarily why Daniel was there in the first place.
Smith had exhausted all of his funds for the first venture and was being watched like a hawk by the authorities for any unfavorable conduct. Daniel agreed to provide funding for Dr. Carlson’s work through one of his old companies he still held stock in. It was enough capital for the first few months, renovations, and a down payment on the property until the plant was operational and self-sustaining enough to start drawing a profit. He was hoping that it would be a good investment in more ways than one.
“So you’ve already met with him?” Daniel asked.
“Yes. It was… productive,” Dr. Carlson answered.
“And you trust him?”
“I trust him to do what’s right for science.”
“That’s all we are to you people, aren’t we? Just lab rats.”
“Oh, no. Of course not. Lab rats are much easier to control. You’re more like a less-sophisticated chimpanzee that stumbled across a fancy suit.”
The rest of the trip was in silence. Whatever Smith saw in that man was beyond Daniel’s patience. Everything was riding on Dr. Carlson’s ability to produce fresh water. If he couldn’t do that, then Daniel’s money, Smith’s influence, and the surviving American citizens’ struggle in the Southwest would be for nothing. He didn’t appreciate Dr. Carlson’s lackadaisical attitude toward their efforts.
The driver came to a stop just outside a gate that surrounded a small building with docks stretched out into the bay.
“What is this, a marina?” Daniel asked.
“Used to be. Hopefully this is where we’ll be setting up shop. As long as you can close the deal,” Dr. Carlson answered.
The ground was covered in bird droppings, and the smell that rose from the effects of guano having been baked in the sun for the past several weeks stung Daniel’s nostrils. Most of the building’s windows were broken, and he couldn’t help but think of the number of birds that might have gotten inside and the presents they’d left behind. Another car pulled up beside them, and Dr. Carlson went over to greet the new arrivals. Two men stepped out, one of them more excited to see Dr. Carlson than the other.
“Craig!” Dr. Carlson said, wrapping the man in a hug. “Thanks for coming, old friend.”
“Happy to be here.”
“Daniel, this is Dr. Craig Barley. One of the best structural engineers I’ve ever met. Craig, this is Congressman Daniel Hunter.”
Craig was a small man. Daniel had known shorter guys in college, but they had been fairly well-built men. Craig looked like a slight wind would knock him over.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Congressman,” Craig said, shaking Daniel’s hand enthusiastically.
“Likewise.”
The other man that got out of the car with Craig was the polar opposite. He was tall, wide around the waist, and sported a thick red beard and a pair of dark eyes that looked like they would set Dr. Carlson on fire if they could.
“And this is Dr. Frank Turney,” Dr. Carlson said. “One of the brightest physicists of the century.”
“Except for you. Right, Edwin?” Frank replied, deadpan.
“Too kind, Frank. You’re… too kind.”
Daniel didn’t bother extending his hand to Frank, who wore an expression that suggested he might not get it back if he did. Frank simply walked up to the gate and unlocked it.
“Are you the owner?” Daniel asked.
“No, but I know him. He’s willing to sell if the price is right,” Frank answered.
“Well, I hope he’s reasonable.”
The gate scraped across the bird shit, and Daniel took a hesitant first step onto the property. Frank took the lead, with the rest of them in tow.
Just as Daniel had predicted, the inside of the building was just as bad as the outside. The birds had had their way with everything, and most of the walls were stained with mold and mildew.
“I know it looks bad, but it meets all the requirements on our checklist. Size, structure, proximity to the ocean, and surrounding infrastructure,” Dr. Carlson said.
“And how much is this picture-perfect real estate going for?” Daniel asked.
“Well, that’s where it gets a little—”
“Four million,” Frank answered, cutting Dr. Carlson off.
“Excuse me?” Daniel asked.
“That’s the asking price,” Frank answered.
“No. I’m not pouring four million into this dump. I’d be willing to pay a tenth of that.”
“I’m afraid the price is nonnegotiable.”
“Then I’m afraid we’re going to look elsewhere.”
“Daniel, wait!” Dr. Carlson said running after him. Dr. Carlson grabbed his arm and jumped in front of him. “Listen. We need this spot.”
“Carlson, I don’t have that kind of money. And even if I did, we would be getting ripped off. And we would still need enough funds for materials. This just doesn’t make sense. We’ll find something else.”
“There isn’t anything else. I’ve looked. Every other spot either doesn’t have what we need, or they’re already running a lucrative business that they wouldn’t sell. We don’t have any other choices.”
“Then you better have your friend talk the owner down, because I can’t afford the asking price.”
“Frank! Could you come over here?”
The old factory’s smell was starting to make Daniel feel light-headed. If they were in there long enough, they might get high enough to strike a deal, although he wasn’t sure whose favor it would be in.
“Frank, the price is too much. I mean look at this place,” Dr. Carlson said.
“That’s the asking price,” Frank replied.
“Couldn’t you just try and talk to the owner? See if he’d be willing to come down at all?”
“No.”
It could have been the heat or the smell or the fact that his body was going through alcohol withdrawal after being soaked in whiskey for the past few days, but Daniel was losing his patience.
“Do you know what we’re trying to do? Did Dr. Carlson fill you in at all?” Daniel asked, taking over the conversation.
“I’m aware of the situation,” Frank answered.
“Then you know that if we don’t get this place up and running, this continent will dry up. Even your ice lakes will disappear. We’re running out of water, Dr. Turney, and there won’t be a soul left on this planet to purchase this shitty property if that happens. So why don’t you get on the phone with the owner, and tell him that if he wants to live, then he should bring down the asking price!”
Daniel was panting heavily and out of breath. The deep breaths he drew in just brought in more of the rancid fumes. He started to feel sick. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to calm his stomach and clear his head, but it did nothing. He ran out of the factory and moved as far away from it as he could. The more he separated himself from the stench of the factory, the better he felt. He looked behind him, and the factory was a few hundred yards in the distance. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly through his nose and mouth.
This is too much. We can’t do this. Not here. This is too much.
A slight brush of sea air came over him, cooling the beads of sweat on his forehead. For a moment, he forgot where he was. The cool breeze brought him back to his childhood, when his parents would take him to the Carolina coast during the summer. He remembered the heat, the sand, the caked-on sunblock his mother would douse him with. It was the smell of the salt air that he remembered most. He loved that smell.
“Daniel?” Dr. Carlson asked, wheezing from his jog over.
Both Dr. Carlson and Frank had followed him. The two men wore faces of concern.
“I’m sorry, I just… the smell,” Daniel answered.
“You really think this will save us,” Frank said.
“Ask him,” Daniel said, motioning to Dr. Carlson.
“It will work, Frank.”
Frank paused. He took a moment to look back at the factory and then back to Daniel. “All right. Four hundred thousand. But I want profit sharing once everything’s operational.”
“Deal,” Daniel said.