there is nothing to be sorry about.”
He reached over and patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.
“Anytime you want to learn more about what it was like growing up then, you just ask. I am proud of where I came from … and where we are going.”
“You’ve said ‘we’ several times now,” Eva interjected.
“Oh, we’ll get to contracts and all that at some point.”
“Ask for a million apiece for starters plus some royalties—gross, not net profits,” Erich grumbled. “Hell, he can afford it!”
“Are you their agent?” Franklin asked in mock horror. “God save me from patent lawyers and agents.”
“Better than that: I’m their mentor.”
Eva smiled at that, and reached across the aisle to squeeze Erich’s hand.
“I will not discuss what my retainer in all of this is,” he said with a smile.
“I am certain we’ll come to a satisfactory arrangement before we finish this leg of the journey,” Franklin replied, nonplussed by Erich. “So, let’s talk a little business first, then I’m up to the cockpit to do some flying, if I can drag the copilot out of his seat. Victoria, there is a jump seat up forward. I suspect you’d get a kick out of giving me a hand.”
She grinned with delight, nodding eagerly. Gary said nothing, and Eva just looked straight ahead. In spite of their dreams of where they hoped to one day go—the riskiest venture in the history of aviation and space exploration—both were less than enthusiastic about their daughter’s obsession with learning to fly. Several years back, the young son of one of their friends had “augered in” while still a student pilot, trying to show off over his girlfriend’s house by attempting an aileron roll.
“While we’re up front having fun, you two will find the usual contracts, nondisclosure forms, W-4s, incorporation papers; it’s several hundred pages’ worth on your iPads,” Franklin continued. “You can go over them at your leisure. If you should desire, you can be referred to several lawyers in Seattle who are contract experts to go over the paperwork, though I hope that, as is, it meets with your satisfaction. We got plenty of time later to talk details, and, yes, I know Erich will act as your agent.”
“Without charging them the usual agency fee, I might add,” Erich muttered, drifting back into sleep as the double Scotch took effect.
“But for now, let me give you what we used to call in ancient times ‘the CliffsNotes version.’”
Gary laughed at that, though Victoria and even Eva seemed a bit confused.
“Back in the old days,” Gary explained to them, “when we used to listen to music from black disks that spun around on what was called a turntable and televisions came with rabbit ears sticking out of them, the way to get around your English and history course readings was to buy something called CliffsNotes. All the works of Shakespeare explained in thirty pages. Plato and all those other Greek guys in thirty pages. Stuff like that. Problem was, the professors read them as well.”
“You mean, like Wikipedia today?” Victoria asked.
“Sorta like that.”
“Got it.”
“That is infamous that you did that, Gary. I never knew that,” Eva exclaimed, genuinely upset. “I read every word of Pushkin and Tolstoy assigned to me, even if they were Russian and not Ukrainian.”
Gary shrugged, a bit embarrassed.
“Franklin, maybe you better dig in and give us the straight line now, to save me from my wife’s wrath.”
Franklin got up and poured himself a soda water, no Scotch. He motioned to Gary’s glass—which Gary put a hand over as a refusal after a sharp glance from Eva and Victoria—then sat down again.
“I am proposing that we build the Pillar.”
No one else spoke; the only sound in the plane other than the engines and the occasional brief chatter on the radio channel, which was still open, was that of Erich’s gentle snoring.
“I have followed your work ever since your
He reached over and patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.
“Anytime you want to learn more about what it was like growing up then, you just ask. I am proud of where I came from … and where we are going.”
“You’ve said ‘we’ several times now,” Eva interjected.
“Oh, we’ll get to contracts and all that at some point.”
“Ask for a million apiece for starters plus some royalties—gross, not net profits,” Erich grumbled. “Hell, he can afford it!”
“Are you their agent?” Franklin asked in mock horror. “God save me from patent lawyers and agents.”
“Better than that: I’m their mentor.”
Eva smiled at that, and reached across the aisle to squeeze Erich’s hand.
“I will not discuss what my retainer in all of this is,” he said with a smile.
“I am certain we’ll come to a satisfactory arrangement before we finish this leg of the journey,” Franklin replied, nonplussed by Erich. “So, let’s talk a little business first, then I’m up to the cockpit to do some flying, if I can drag the copilot out of his seat. Victoria, there is a jump seat up forward. I suspect you’d get a kick out of giving me a hand.”
She grinned with delight, nodding eagerly. Gary said nothing, and Eva just looked straight ahead. In spite of their dreams of where they hoped to one day go—the riskiest venture in the history of aviation and space exploration—both were less than enthusiastic about their daughter’s obsession with learning to fly. Several years back, the young son of one of their friends had “augered in” while still a student pilot, trying to show off over his girlfriend’s house by attempting an aileron roll.
“While we’re up front having fun, you two will find the usual contracts, nondisclosure forms, W-4s, incorporation papers; it’s several hundred pages’ worth on your iPads,” Franklin continued. “You can go over them at your leisure. If you should desire, you can be referred to several lawyers in Seattle who are contract experts to go over the paperwork, though I hope that, as is, it meets with your satisfaction. We got plenty of time later to talk details, and, yes, I know Erich will act as your agent.”
“Without charging them the usual agency fee, I might add,” Erich muttered, drifting back into sleep as the double Scotch took effect.
“But for now, let me give you what we used to call in ancient times ‘the CliffsNotes version.’”
Gary laughed at that, though Victoria and even Eva seemed a bit confused.
“Back in the old days,” Gary explained to them, “when we used to listen to music from black disks that spun around on what was called a turntable and televisions came with rabbit ears sticking out of them, the way to get around your English and history course readings was to buy something called CliffsNotes. All the works of Shakespeare explained in thirty pages. Plato and all those other Greek guys in thirty pages. Stuff like that. Problem was, the professors read them as well.”
“You mean, like Wikipedia today?” Victoria asked.
“Sorta like that.”
“Got it.”
“That is infamous that you did that, Gary. I never knew that,” Eva exclaimed, genuinely upset. “I read every word of Pushkin and Tolstoy assigned to me, even if they were Russian and not Ukrainian.”
Gary shrugged, a bit embarrassed.
“Franklin, maybe you better dig in and give us the straight line now, to save me from my wife’s wrath.”
Franklin got up and poured himself a soda water, no Scotch. He motioned to Gary’s glass—which Gary put a hand over as a refusal after a sharp glance from Eva and Victoria—then sat down again.
“I am proposing that we build the Pillar.”
No one else spoke; the only sound in the plane other than the engines and the occasional brief chatter on the radio channel, which was still open, was that of Erich’s gentle snoring.
“I have followed your work ever since your
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