Biomedical self engineer.., p.4
Biomedical Self-Engineering : Book 2, page 4
He couldn’t be happier.
That done, he went to the diner for breakfast. It was just after 6am, so the crowd was still light. This time Chloe gave him a hug before directing him to the counter. The police officer he sometimes met around this time of the morning wasn’t here, so he ate in silence, enjoying his eggs over easy and hash browns with a few slices of bacon on top. He took his time, and when the paper became available, he grabbed it and started reading.
That done, he drove to the law offices. He hadn’t heard a response on what day their meeting was, but he had other matters to attend to now. It was just after 8:30am.
The receptionist hadn’t arrived yet, but Rebecca waved him inside once she saw him through the windows. She had a pile of paper on her desk, but she looked happy despite this.
Rebecca looked at the calendar on her laptop before looking up at him. “Carl! What are you doing here? Do we have a meeting I forgot about?”
He smiled, sitting down across from her. “No, nothing like that. I wanted to go over a few things with you, but only if you have time. If you’re busy, I’ll leave.”
Rebecca leaned back in her chair. She’d been through the scariest time of her life when she thought they would lose the business, only to have the man across from her come in and give them a much-needed cash infusion. If that wasn’t enough, the advertising he’d paid for was doing wonders for their business and doubling the number of clients they had.
“How much time do you need? I have to get some of these cases finished today.”
Carl grinned. He’d deposited a retainer of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars of advertising with the agency he planned to buy, which was one of his topics. It seemed the advertising was working.
“Fifteen minutes?”
Rebecca smiled, relaxing back in her chair. “I can do fifteen minutes. What’s up?”
Carl laid out his plans now that he’d sold the gold coins. It was time to get some things moving.
“So that’s it in a nutshell. I’d like to buy the mineral rights down in Medford that we spoke about, and I still owe you half of a partner’s share. We have a meeting sometime next week to discuss buying the building just over there,”—Carl pointed behind him — “and I’d like you to look into Vancouver Life Insurance. The company is undergoing layoffs and isn’t doing well financially. I doubt I can afford to buy out all the stock, but I’d like to have options along with your opinion.”
Rebecca was taking copious notes while he spoke, but looked up when he mentioned buying a life insurance company. “Really? A life insurance company?”
He shrugged. “That’s the thing. I don’t know. I don’t want to invest in it as that would be throwing good money away into a failing company, unless investing gets me a majority share. The stock isn’t publicly traded, so all of this would be new to me.”
She had to hand it to him. The man had aspirations. “All I can promise you is that I’ll look into it. Insurance companies are heavily regulated, just like banks are. It would be a challenge, but I have a feeling you’re up for a challenge.”
Carl looked at the clock on Rebecca’s wall and saw that his fifteen minutes were up. He stood but didn’t leave just yet. “You might also think about hiring on some junior associates to help with the paperwork and anything else you need done. Just a thought.”
Rebecca gave him a soft smile. “I’ll think about it.” When she saw his expression, she said, “I really will, Carl. But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t afraid of overspending, especially after we just got back on our feet.”
He nodded. “I understand. Do what you think is best.”
With that, Carl took his leave, leaving the law office to walk down the street to the coin shop.
It was a true spring day out, with a slight breeze keeping it from being too hot while clouds threatened rain from the west. As he pushed through the door, Randy waved him in from behind the counter.
He was counting out what looked like new coins that had just arrived, a mixture of old and new. Carl reached out his hand to shake out of habit.
Randy gave him a wide grin. “Good to see you, Carl. What brings you my way?”
Carl motioned back toward the law office. “I just came from seeing Rebecca and decided to walk over and see my favorite gold bug. How’re you doing?”
Randy gave a broad smile. “The advertising has worked out amazingly well. This is all stuff I ordered just to back fill what people have already purchased, and I expect more to show up tomorrow. It’s only been two weeks, and I’m doing more business than I usually do in a month.”
Carl smiled in return, but his was more muted. He found that he couldn’t help thinking ahead these days, to the next roadblock or problem. Instead of enjoying the moment, his mind was always somewhere between a week to a month or more in time ahead of the present day.
“Have you talked to Gene about buying the new safe?”
Randy stopped counting coins, his eyes narrowing as they met Carl’s. “Not yet. Why, what’s wrong with my dad’s old safe?”
Carl sighed. Better to break the news now, to allow Randy time to absorb it. “That safe isn’t… well, safe, anymore. Not for the amount of money you’re keeping in it. It probably never was. It’s too old, and while I think you should keep it as a display up front, I’ve already agreed to fund the purchase of a new safe once the electrical system is sorted out.”
Randy had a forlorn look for a few long moments. Then he brightened. “I like it! We’ll keep the safe up front for everyone to look at, while I have a brand new one to play with?” It was tough to keep Randy down. “That’s outstanding!”
Carl was looking at coins, for no other reason than they looked interesting. So many countries had used gold in the past until a banker came along and replaced it with paper. It was the ultimate Ponzi scheme.
“You’ve seen the engineer’s report, haven’t you?”
Carl stilled. Of all his business partners, none had as high a need for security as Randy did. His other ventures needed money, and maybe a few words of business advice sprinkled in to get them by. But not Randy. He would only feel secure once Carl had purchased the building outright. Which, he could admit, he was very close to doing.
Turning around, Carl was all business because he had a feeling that was what Randy needed right now. “I’ve read it. A few times, in fact. Some of it is good, while other parts aren’t. But I don’t think that will stop me from buying it.”
Randy opened his mouth, but Carl forestalled it by speaking first. “But I want you to promise me you’ll give Gene your full attention when he talks to you about a security system for the coin shop. Your business is about to get a lot bigger than you ever thought it would, and so in return for buying the building, I’d like two things.”
Randy closed his eyes, letting the information absorb into him. He’d been down on his luck for most of his life, and now someone was standing up for him. With him. It was a heady feeling.
“What are they? I’ll promise I’ll do my best, but you know I have strong feelings about owning the building.”
Carl knew he was telling the truth. Carl ticked them off, finger by finger. “First, you won’t argue about any necessary upgrades to your shop. That might include closing it for a few days while the contractors get everything done, but that shouldn’t affect things too much. Isn’t most of your business online now?”
Randy knew that was true, but it also wasn’t true at the same time. “For most of my sales, yes, you’re right. But we’ve picked up a steady clientele coming in now that word is out about the shop. One lady drove up from Salem the other day because she saw my ad on some survivalist channel on YouTube. Pretty cool, right?”
Carl could only agree. That was pretty cool. But that didn’t mean what he said wasn’t true. “How about this, then? When the shop is closed for upgrades, you offer free shipping for orders over a minimum purchase. Say two hundred bucks. Or whatever you think is best. A special offer to keep the money coming in while the shop is being repaired.”
Randy thought it over. “I like it. I’ve never done something like that, so I might need your help. And I’ll need Sue’s help to get the ad made. She did a brilliant job on the last one. Have you seen it?”
Carl knew she’d been working hard for all the businesses and he’d found a flyer for FastCycle on his windshield after a date with Barbara in Portland city center. They had both laughed about it, and Carl had kept it as a memento. He’d also seen the ad for the law firm late at night during a commercial. It was well done, professional through and through. It showed Rebecca, although she said nothing except one line at the end: ‘If you need help with a divorce, a separation, or with child custody, call us. We’re here to help.’
But he hadn’t seen the ad for the coin shop, primarily because he had never used YouTube. He had a vague idea what it was all about, but it wasn’t something that interested him enough to spend valuable time on it.
He told his friend the truth. “I’m sorry, Randy, but I haven’t.”
Randy waved it away. “Just a sec and I’ll find it.” Randy pulled out a rectangular, flat computer from under the counter. He’d seen them in the same shop when he’d purchased his laptop, but he’d never looked at them very closely.
The ad came up seconds later, loud music blaring with explosions and gunfire in the background before a gravelly man’s voice spoke that wasn’t Randy’s. ‘If you’re serious about being a survivalist, I can guarantee you’ve forgotten one thing. Gold. When the end of the world as we know it comes, you won’t be able to find it anywhere, because smarter people than you will already have hoarded it all. For those of you who don’t remember what our country was like before the bankers took over, we used gold and silver as our exclusive currency. You couldn’t buy anything with paper money.’ The voice paused as images of destruction passed by, almost too fast to see even with his improved eyesight. ‘After TEOTWAWKI, those that survive won’t be bartering beads. They’ll be bartering lives and food. Or buying it with the only currency that truly matters: GOLD!’ The voice paused again, then came back much louder. ‘Be prepared! Buy gold now before the government steals all of it out from under us. Only then can you be truly prepared for the end of times.’
A nuclear bomb went off, which looked like it was an archived movie clip from the early nuclear tests in the late ‘40s and ‘50s. Carl was both horrified and impressed, and he didn’t doubt that it worked well on Randy’s target audience. Not that he was a survivalist, but if he saw it, it might sway him to pick up a few thousand dollars’ worth just in case.
He looked up from the computer to Randy. “Sue made this?” He remembered Sue, and she didn’t seem like the kind of woman to create something like this. Not even a little.
Randy laughed. “She did. The first version wasn’t as loud and didn’t have the nuclear bomb at the end. I added them, and I think they really helped.”
Carl could only nod. His role wasn’t to judge, even though a part of him very much wanted to. Then he looked back at Randy, who was waiting for him to say something.
Clearing his throat, he spoke as honestly as he could muster. The shock still hadn’t worn off yet. “It’s… impressive. Really well done.”
Randy beamed. “I know. Some of my friends came in just to talk about the ad. I kind of wish I had a TV on the wall so I could play it over and over for when people come in.”
Carl didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything.
An awkward silence descended, and Carl beat a hasty retreat. As he was heading toward the door, he said, “I’m meeting with Rebecca next week to discuss the building. We should have a decision then.”
Randy waved back and forth. “Thanks, Carl. I’ll let you know if I get the TV installed.”
Carl sighed. He liked Randy, but that was an asinine idea. He thought about it all the way down the street to where his car was parked until he remembered how much gold and silver Randy had sold. He didn’t know the exact amount, but it was large. Maybe it wasn’t as asinine as he’d first thought.
Chapter 8
“Corruption is worse than prostitution. The latter might endanger the morals of an individual, the former invariably endangers the morals of an entire country.”
—Karl Kraus
Carl went home after that, having nothing left to do with himself. When he got there, a message was blinking on his answering machine.
“Hi Carl, this is Rebecca. I’ve got a preliminary report prepared on Vancouver Life Insurance. It’s brief but should be enough detail for right now. I can tell you that the company was last valued at eight million dollars, although that valuation is over two years old. The company’s stock is privately held by people in the company and a few outside investors. Sorry I don’t have more, but I sent it to your email to read. Hope you have a great weekend, Carl. Talk to you later.”
Carl saved the report before deleting the message from his laptop. He would read it, but it might be better if he read it while eating. It was close to lunchtime, and his stomach was rumbling.
He pulled out a variety of leftovers, including fried chicken that Barbara had given him before his… episode, a pre-washed bag of lettuce, half an onion, and a few other things. He cut it up and mixed it all together before pouring an unhealthy amount of ranch dressing over the entire thing. Mixing the bowl a few times with a large spoon, he took his meal out to the living room and grabbed his laptop along the way.
He ate while reading through the report. Just as Rebecca had promised, it was short but concise. Included were several articles in the local papers going back a year, including one that mentioned an enormous claims loss on a mis-priced disability policy they’d sold in the nineties up until 2009, when they fixed it. That policy, along with a few poor business decisions, had cut into profits and was a big reason why he had sensed it failing.
She had also circled an article citing the valuation, which mentioned that the largest shareholder wasn’t the CEO or the chairman of the board but a retiree living in Battleground, Washington, who had picked the stock up as an investment over two decades ago.
While all of that was interesting, it didn’t really matter. Even if the price was only a little over four million to gain a majority ownership of shares, he didn’t have it. All of his money was committed to other things, and he didn’t plan to change that.
He could always go looking for more hidden stashes of gold coins, but even that probably wouldn’t get him what he needed. The problem wasn’t finding the coins. It was finding ones rare enough, and in a large enough volume, to bring in millions and not just a few hundred thousand.
Tapping his foot while he turned on the TV, he found Breakfast at Tiffany’s was on. It was the original, not the horrible remake. He could admit to his older self that he’d lusted after Audrey Hepburn more than a little back in the day.
The movie was fine, but the problem still distracted him while he watched. He needed money to see this next venture through, and he didn’t have it. Wishing and hoping wouldn’t change a thing.
As the closing credits wound down, Carl paused as his mind caught up to what he’d just thought.
He needed money, not just gold or silver. Any money was good, whether it had collectible value or was accepted as legal tender.
Responding to his thoughts, a notification popped up. Carl smiled when he read it.
To find paper money, two or more of the following DNA samples are required:
* Hawk (accipitrine)–any species
* Common Dog (Canis Lupus)
* Golden Eagle (Aquila chrysaetos)
* Termites (Termitidae)
Carl already had dog DNA somewhere inside of him, as odd as that sounded. He knew he had no chance at finding hawk or golden eagle DNA, which left termites as the last, best option.
He almost opened his laptop again, but something was wrong; he just couldn’t put his finger on it. What wasn’t he seeing?
Then he had it. If he did somehow absorb termite DNA, he could find money, he was sure of that. But that wasn’t what he needed.
He needed to find money that had no current owner, whether paper or coins. Money that didn’t belong to anyone, that he could claim uncontested to buy Vancouver Life Insurance and other businesses after that. How long that might take him, he didn’t know, but it was preferable to find out it was impossible than to not try at all.
Changing his thought, the blue boxes responded.
To find lost money*, two or more of the following DNA samples are required:
* Hawk (accipitrine)–any species
* Common Dog (Canis Lupus)
* Beagle dog (Canis familiaris)
* Termites (Termitidae)
Note*: lost is defined as being unclaimed for a minimum of two solar years.
Carl got up and looked at the clock. It was just after 6pm on a Friday night, which he thought was too late to visit any of the animal shelters. Finding termites would mean reaching out to exterminators, which would send him skittering down a rabbit hole.
No, he needed to find a beagle. How hard could that be?
Not knowing the answer to that question, he got in his car and drove to the local dog park. He knew the location because he ran by it quite often, as families and their dogs frequented it quite often while an adult—usually male—held a plastic baggy for Spot’s inevitable accident. Carl could only shake his head at what modern society had turned into.
Getting out of his car, he walked the circumference of the park, all the while looking for a beagle. He saw every other breed of dog, although most of the dogs here seemed to be Labradors or smaller dogs that he didn’t recognize. He’d never been a dog or cat person himself, but he could admit that a lot of these dogs looked well-loved and well behaved.
Sighing, Carl got back in his car and pulled open his laptop. He didn’t have a Wi-Fi connection, so he drove until he was outside a Starbucks and pulled it open again. He’d picked that little tip up in his community college class.
