Disclosure by Michael Crichton Page B

talk of his wife and children made him feel safer somehow.
    “I don't know how somebody can be married,” Meredith said. “I tried it.” She held up her hand. “Four more alimony payments to the son of a bitch and I'm free.”
    “Who did you marry?”
    “Some account executive at CoStar. He was cute. Amusing. But it turned out he was a typical gold digger. I've been paying him off for three years. And he was a lousy lay.” She waved her hand, dismissing the subject. She looked at her watch.
    “Now come and sit down, and tel me how bad it is with the Twinkle drive.”
    “You want the file? I put it in your briefcase.”
    “No.” She patted the couch beside her. “You just tel me yourself.” He sat down beside her.
    “You look good, Tom.” She leaned back and kicked off her heels, wiggled her bare toes. “God, what a day.”
    “Lot of pressure?”
    She sipped her wine and blew a strand of hair from her face. “A lot to keep track of. I'm glad we're working together, Tom. I feel as though you're the one friend I can count on in al this.”
    “Thanks. I'l try.”

    “So: how bad is it?”
    “Wel . It's hard to say.”
    “Just tel me.”
    He felt he had no choice but to lay it al out for her. “We've built very successful prototypes, but the drives coming off the line in KL are running nowhere near a hundred mil iseconds.”
    Meredith sighed, and shook her head. “Do we know why?”
    “Not yet. We're working on some ideas.”
    “That line's a start-up, isn't it?”
    “Two months ago.”
    She shrugged. “Then we have problems on a new line. That's not so bad.”
    “But the thing is,” he said, “Conley-White is buying this company for our technology, and especial y for the CD-ROM drive. As of today, we may not be able to deliver as promised.”
    “You want to tel them that?”
    “I'm concerned they'l pick it up in due diligence.”
    “Maybe, maybe not.” She leaned back in the couch. “We have to remember what we're real y looking at. Tom, we've al seen production problems loom large, only to vanish overnight. This may be one of those situations. We're shaking out the Twinkle line. We've identified some early problems. No big deal.”
    “Maybe. But we don't know that. In reality, there may be a problem with control er chips, which means changing our supplier in Singapore. Or there may be a more fundamental problem. A design problem, originating here.”
    “Perhaps,” Meredith said, “but as you say, we don't know that. And I don't see any reason for us to speculate. At this critical time.”
    “But to be honest-”
    “It's not a matter of honesty,” she said. “It's a matter of the underlying reality.

    Let's go over it, point by point. We've told them we have a Twinkle drive.”
    “Yes.”
    “We've built a prototype and tested the hel out of it.”
    “Yes.”
    “And the prototype works like gangbusters. It's twice as fast as the most advanced drives coming out of Japan.”
    “Yes.”
    “We've told them we're in production on the drive.”
    “Yes.”
    “Wel , then,” Meredith said, “we've told them al that anybody knows for sure, at this point. I'd say we are acting in good faith.”
    “Wel , maybe, but I don't know if we can-”
    “Tom.” Meredith placed her hand on his arm. “I always liked your directness. I want you to know how much I appreciate your expertise and your frank approach to problems. Al the more reason why I'm sure the Twinkle drive wil get ironed out. We know that fundamental y it's a good product that performs as we say it does. Personal y, I have complete confidence in it, and in your ability to make it work as planned. And I have no problem saying that at the meeting tomorrow.”
    She paused, and looked intently at him. “Do you?”
    Her face was very close to him, her lips half-parted. “Do I what?”
    “Have a problem saying that at the meeting?”
    Her eyes were light blue, almost gray. He had forgotten that, as he had forgotten how long her