Core Beliefs - Chapter 3 - Chris's Dilemma

Chapter 3: Chris’ Dilemma

Matt awoke around 6:30, immediately got out of bed, showered, dressed, and was ready to get to work on the issues at hand. Lingering in bed on the weekend had never been his style.

Matt liked Joe’s advice about offering corporate stock to employees, so he sketched an outline and by midmorning had a draft.

With this done, he tackled the more difficult task of restructuring management. Matt had no intention of backing all the way out, knowing it would be too difficult for him to step away.

Taking each company, he composed a list of those he identified as the key people. Matt wanted a team approach. Although it took longer to get everything on paper, he felt it was workable once completed.

Going to the corporate link on his computer, Matt pulled up his calendar and the general corporate calendar. Revamping the organization was going to rock the boat, but he believed waiting to start the process would not make things any easier. He would initiate action a week from this coming Monday. There would be meetings with each company. He was deliberately doing Cor-Digital last because of Chris.

Matt couldn’t believe how impulsive he had become. He felt he was breathing fresh air for the first time in many years, the effect intoxicating.

His stomach growled a bit, and he realized that it was almost noon. Climbing from his study chair, he lumbered stiff-legged to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and spent a few minutes searching for anything edible.

It turned out that unless he wanted a mayo and ketchup sandwich with some out-of-date pickles, lunch was not coming out of the box, so he grabbed his wallet and keys and drove to a deli ten blocks from his house.

As a frequent customer, the two boys behind the counter recognized him.

“Hi, Mr. Lehman,” the redhead greeted him, “you’re usual?”

“Yep.” Then, for some reason, Matt changed his mind. “Hold on, guys, let me see the menu. Let’s try something different.”

The other young man, freckles, handed him a well-worn menu. Matt took it to a small table with two chairs. He started at the top of the list and perused the items. He read the ingredients for the Italian Supreme Sub sandwich. His first thought was that it had everything but the kitchen sink and was probably the most unhealthy sandwich in the world. Matt stepped to the counter, pointing to the menu, “Give me this and load it to the hilt.”

Freckles asked, Six-inch or Twelve-inch, and what kind of bread?”

Reason returned to Matt, “The Six-inch is fine, and wheat bread, please.”

It took less than three minutes to deliver the sandwich to his table with a diet soft drink and chips.

Matt carefully unwrapped the monster, realizing just how stuffed it was, including the Italian dressing running everywhere.

“I ask for it to the hilt,” he grimaced, then smiled.

Squeezing the bread so he could funnel it into his mouth, he took his first bite. There were flavors he couldn’t remember encountering. The combination of tomato and salami, olives, and even onions overwhelmed his taste buds. It was several seconds before he could start chewing. He had avoided raw onions for as long as he could remember, but here, in this concoction, he was enjoying all of the flavors. It took him almost twenty minutes to eat the monster. When he finished, there came a very loud and absolutely involuntary belch.

Red-faced, Matt was eager to make his escape, downed the last of his drink, quickly paid the boys, and left.

He thought about the empty fridge and the fact that Chris would be there in a couple of hours, so he made a U-turn and headed for the grocery store.

Usually, when Matt went grocery shopping, he grabbed one of the little hand-carry baskets, but today, he decided the sandwich had whetted his appetite for more. Grabbing a cart, he started at one end of the store and took his time going up and down each aisle.

He was responding to things that caught his attention. He knew he needed bread, so he pulled two loaves from the shelf. He saw the peanut butter and smiled, staring at the shelf, trying to decide, “Big jar? Little jar? Creamy or chunky? So many choices.” He finally picked a medium-sized jar of creamy and continued picking up two small jars of jelly.

On through the store, he strolled, adding chips and dips, lunchmeat, beer, and cheese. He finally stopped in the frozen food section in front of the ice cream.

“When was the last time I had ice cream?” he wondered. He realized the last time someone put ice cream in the freezer was his wife, over a dozen years ago. Matt remembered throwing it away, maybe two years later, when the freezer failed and spoiled many other foods.

He caught himself, checking his emotions. The memory of Marilyn and ice cream hit harder than he liked. Gaining a measure of control, he deliberately opened the door and picked a carton of Rocky Road, Marilyn’s favorite.

Checking out, he headed for home and packed the items into the all-but-empty fridge and cabinets.

He had more than an hour before Chris arrived and thought about reviewing the documents he had worked on during the morning, but he believed those were covered.

Remembering the email from Dr. Kumar, he took it from his briefcase. There were two parts: the return email from Dr. Kumar and an attached document that appeared to be by someone else.

Matt started with the email.

“Mr. Lehman, I am most intrigued by the question you posed. I had not considered the application of regenerative DNA to stimulate brain activity. Please remember that all the components of my paper were theoretical, with some supporting scientific documentation. I must confess that I was surprised to be published since this is very much a secondary field for me. My primary studies and research have been in the area of quantum physics and astrophysics. I will convey that before responding to your email, I googled your name and read about the various companies you operate and truly say that I am most impressed. It is gratifying to me to see the nature of your enterprises.

“Returning to your question, I again am only able to hypothesize, but I can see several scenarios in which regenerative DNA could provide key stimuli to the brain.

“The larger question is how the brain would react, and would the effects be beneficial or possibly more damaging? I wish to point out that the human brain is a very intricate, complex bio-mechanism where chemical, electrical, hormonal, and many other elements interact to maintain balance and function. Current medical practices often use externally applied chemical triggers to send false signals to the brain. Aspirin, tranquilizers, and drugs used in psychotherapy are just some examples. I would very much like to discuss this topic further, but I must end this correspondence in that I am required for class.

“Your question did prompt me to remember a paper by a Doctor of Neurology in the United States. Dr. Ling Woo Chang is a research professor and instructor at Wheatley University in Houston, Texas. She is a neurosurgeon as well as a top researcher. Her paper may answer some of your questions in that it deals with cases where the brain has established new active areas to compensate for and replace areas damaged due to disease or injury.

"Again, thank you for the opportunity to converse, and I look forward to additional discussions.

Respectfully yours,

Suchet Kumar, PhD."

Matt set the email portion aside and began reading the document by Dr. Chang. He labored through it. Much of the terminology was in the form of acronyms and initialisms. He was sure anyone in the field of neurology would know these, but to him, it was very much gibberish. He did get the gist that Dr. Chang was discussing the ways in which brain cells take on new roles. One interesting part was in rare but documented cases where dormant cells became active, indicating new neural pathways were taking over in damaged areas.

Matt really wanted to understand the research better, but knew he’d have to get with someone smarter than him.

Matt glanced at his clock and realized 2:00 was rolling up quickly. Chris would probably pull into the driveway any minute, and as if on cue, he heard a car. Peering out the window, he saw Chris getting out with his computer bag and a leather case.

Matt hurried to the door and held it open for Chris.

“Good afternoon,” said Chris,

“Great to see you,” replied Matt.

Chris stepped into the living room and turned, waiting. Matt hadn’t thought about where to meet.

“Let’s go to the study,” Matt said. Matt led the way and motioned for Chris to sit on a dark brown leather loveseat while Matt took his chair at his desk.

“Well, Chris, you look like you’ve been busy. How are you doing?”

“Do you really want to know?”

The response surprised Matt. Chris had issues. ‘Do I want to know?’ Matt wondered. The answer was yes. He was about to launch into something that had radical ramifications, and Chris was the main guy.

“Chris, I really want to know how things are with you and to know if there is anything I can do to help you in any way.” Matt meant what he said, and it looked like Chris picked up on the sincerity.

“Well, Sir,” Chris began, “This has been the most stressful two and a half days of my life. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I’ve told my family to leave me alone, and my nerves are about to come unglued. To put it bluntly, I’m afraid that I’m in so far over my head that I’m going to screw this up. Who knows what damage I’ll cause!” Chris’s hands trembled ever so slightly, and tension showed in his lips and eyes,

“Chris. That’s a load. Which part scares you the most?”

“Well, it’s the idea that if I recreate this experiment and generate the same results, I still won’t be able to tell what happened. I really don’t begin to have the knowledge we need in this field.”

Matt thought about it for a moment.

“Chris, look at me.” He was a firm believer in eye contact.

“I’m sure that we can find someone with the abilities we need. It might take a while, but we have time. Establishing a new place to continue won’t happen in a few days or weeks. So, don’t feel like you have to shoulder this responsibility alone. We are in this together.”

Chris looked somewhat relieved, but Matt could tell there was more.

“Okay, Chris, what’s your next concern?

“Well, I have never kept secrets from Charlotte, my wife, and it’s driving me crazy, and I think her too.”

Matt realized this could be a catastrophic issue and one that had to be resolved.

“Chris, do you trust Charlotte?”

“Mr. Lehman, no disrespect to you, but I trust her more than anyone in the world.”

“Then,” Matt replied, “I think this is very simple; we need to tell her.” He said the words without really thinking, but honestly felt they had to be straight with Chris’s wife.

A blank stare filled Chris’s face for a moment, and then Matt watched as his whole continence relaxed.

“I think I need to come over,” Matt said, “and you and I sit down and tell Charlotte the truth, the whole truth.” He paused, waiting for that to sink in. “Chris, if she doesn’t buy in, you won’t be happy, and nothing will work, and more importantly, I would never want your relationship with your family to ever be jeopardized by what we are contemplating.”

Chris blinked and blinked again. A tear rolled down one cheek. He put his face in his hands, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Matt sensed a core concern had been addressed. It was time to move forward, but he gave Chris time to compose himself before continuing.

It wasn’t but seconds before Chris raised his head, nodding and smiling.

“Okay, I know we need to see if Charlotte is willing to be a part of this,” Matt said, “but let’s look forward as though she has joined the effort. Have you thought about what resources and facilities we are going to need?”

Chris hesitated before reaching for his leather case, pulled it to his lap, and opened it. He pulled out several pages clipped together, handing them to Matt.

“Here’s the beginning shopping list for materials,” Chris said. “This will allow us to recreate the experiment with more controls and better monitoring. It’s a lot of stuff, and it’s not cheap.”

Matt scanned the list and recognized some of the items but had no clue regarding others.

“I can find ways to procure these items,” Matt said, “if there are manufacturers and suppliers. Anything on the list that will raise eyebrows in a way we want to avoid?”

“There are some things that are definitely not in the mainstream and might be hard to acquire. Let me do some research before we seek them publicly.” Chris paused, “Mr. Lehman, are you planning to run this under Cor-Digital?”

“Actually, Chris, I’ve been thinking about that, and I think this should be separate. I also believe we need to be away from our current base of operations and depending on what you tell me about the facility’s needs, we may have to look offshore.”

“That makes sense,” concerned etched Chris’s face. “The offshore part; never thought about that. I mean my family. You really think that might be necessary?”

“Don’t know,” Matt said. “A lot will depend on what you say we need.”

“Well, sir,” Chris said, “in looking at what we need relative to handling the experiment, I looked at where we were and the results. Then, I looked at what kind of place would allow us to function on a safe, repeatable basis. The first critical area is the control room. We want it significantly separated from the experiment space.”

Matt watched as Chris’s eyes narrowed, and his nose wrinkled a tad.

“If I had applied more power to the system, who knows how big the event would have been! I might have caused the entire building or block to disappear, similar to the table and floor. It could have killed everyone in the area.”

The concern in Chris’s voice was tangible. It took a few seconds, but once the truth sank in, Matt appreciated just how lucky they had been.

“I think the experiment lab has to be built out of materials much heavier than the lab at Cor-Digital,” Chris said. “We need to be sure that it is isolated from anything outside and, more importantly, that nothing from the experiment escapes the lab. So, my first thought was like a bomb shelter or bunker.” Chris continued through the specifications. Matt realized just how little sleep the man had gotten the last couple of days.

They finished, and Matt smiled, “Anything else that we need to tackle today?”

“No,” Chris said. “I think these are the most important and probably the most difficult parts of the project.”

“Chris, before we break up, I have something I want to show you.” He handed Chris the rough draft for the employee stock purchase and the reorganization plan for each facility.

“You would consider selling a part of the company?” Chris stuttered.

“Do you think we will have any takers on the stock offer?” Matt asked.

“You’ll have them fighting for shares. People have told me hundreds of times they wished they could own a piece of the company!”

Chris turned his attention to the management structure and noticed his name was not to be found. He looked up, confused.

“Chris,” Matt said, “I’m afraid you’re going to be offered a really good job and will be leaving Cor-Digital.”

Finally, realization bloomed, “I get it.”

“There’s only one more item. Do you think supper tomorrow at your house would work for Charlotte?”

Chris smiled, “I think that could be arranged. How about 6:30?”

Matt nodded his agreement. Chris packed his things, and they walked to his car and shook hands. It was obvious Chris carried fewer worries as he slid into the driver’s seat.

After Chris pulled out, Matt returned to his study and grabbed a notepad, checking off agenda items. He worked on the material list for a while and then felt he might start searching for Chris’s bomb shelter.

Going to the computer, he typed in “bomb shelter bunker.” In under a second, there were 295,000 responses, starting with a company that builds modern-day shelters. A story on the shelters prepared for President Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis, Tom Cruise builds an underground bunker, bomb shelter design, and on and on. After a hundred or more pages were carefully screened, there were no promising results.

He was getting a little hungry but didn’t want to stop to eat, so he made his way to the kitchen, took the quart of Rocky Road from the freezer, grabbed a spoon, and headed back to the study. Matt had forgotten how good ice cream tasted; he took bite after bite, clicking the computer mouse, and finally had to stop. His head pounded with a headache from eating too fast. Brain Freeze. In just a few minutes, half the contents had disappeared. He put the ice cream back in the freezer and promised he would take it slower the next time.

Back at the computer, he decided to take a more direct approach, so he typed “bunkers for sale.” Surprisingly, the first item on the list was a missile silo site. It intrigued Matt. He clicked to get more information. The website was operated by a company specializing in underground properties, including a missile silo. Matt wondered what the facilities were like and searched for “missile silos.” He found page after page of stories, locations, and maps, and even found drawings and plans for what the sites looked like and what facilities they had. He quickly discovered they had spaces other than the silo itself and that they were mostly in rural areas, including many in Missouri, Arkansas, Nebraska, and Kansas.

The ones he saw available for sale either had been renovated into homes or were imploded. Several of the others available were in New York or Oregon. He wondered if there were properties available that were not on the internet. Possibly, they could be located by other means. He thought of one resource who might be able to help and decided he’d make that call Sunday afternoon.