First Posting of Core Beliefs!

This will be a chapter by chapter posting of an unpublished novel.

You get first look!

Core Beliefs is among the oldest of my writings.

It's has been refined over the last fifteen years.

The writing is lacking, but I love the story.

Let me know what you think.

Chapter 1        An Uninformative Email

“Urgent. Must meet. Don’t call,” filled the email subject line.

Nothing about the message felt right. The hairs on Mathew Lehman’s arms stood stiff.

No one sent corporate messages to Matt’s personal account. There were protocols to follow, and how did Chris Martin get his email, anyway?

Matt knew Chris, or thought he did. He’d recruited Chris for Cor-Digital. The man was brilliant with a PhD in theoretical physics. But what Matt liked most was that Chris was levelheaded and totally grounded.

“Open it already,” Matt mumbled, realizing he’d rushed to judgment before he’d even read the contents. He clicked and read.

“Mr. Lehman, it is imperative that we meet. Do not call. I can only discuss face-to-face, if possible, in my office tomorrow. Urgent that you respond.”

“This is ridiculous!” Matt moaned. Did Chris have a better job offer? Had there been an accident? Matt’s mind was running ninety to nothing. He collected his emotions, reminding himself that he preached to his staff not to overreact and to get the facts before doing something stupid. Matt smiled, decided to take his own advice, and flipped through his worn Day Planner. He checked his schedule to see where he could make adjustments, allowing him to meet Chris.

Matt typed back, “Chris, I will be at your office Friday morning by 10:30 a.m.”

As Matt hit send, he wondered if Chris was still at the office. Apprehension mounted while he waited and watched. The mail chime pinged. It took multiple tries to hit the icon.

“God, what’s wrong with me?” Matt blurted, struggling to re-establish a measure of control.

After an eternity of two seconds, the message appeared, “10:30 is good. See you in the morning. Please do not say you are coming at my request. Make it a surprise visit.”

“Geez, can the man get any more cryptic?” Matt’s brain revved, trying to fathom what would send Chris down this road of innuendo. “So, unlike the man,” Matt mumbled, as his hand squished his chin and lips, but being a master of self-composure and following a deep breath, he typed, “As you wish,” and added an afterthought, “Are you still at the office?” before tapping send.

“Why did I even ask if he’s at the office? Of course, he’s at the office.” Matt stared at the computer screen, the leather soles of his shoe tapping the hardwood floor of his study, waiting for a response.

Reacting to the ping, Matt snatched the mouse and clicked open Chris’s answer.

“Yes, but going home now. I will see you tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

“Finally,” Matt sighed, reassured he didn’t need to sit up all night. His shoulders slumped as he exhaled.

He hit the print button and waited for Chris’s email to transfer from digital to paper. It was a habit. Matt was very much a creature of habit, and he liked print on paper more than glowing text on screens. Matt had always penned in comments and ideas between the lines and on the borders of printed text.

“So much for a chill and relaxed birthday.” It was October 23, and Matt Lehman had turned fifty-two with little fanfare.

***

Mathew Lehman was a businessman and a good one. Over the last twenty-plus years, he had founded five corporations, owning each outright.

With a sense of relief, he went back to his remaining emails.

His five companies provided products for medical applications. Doctors, hospitals, medical equipment manufacturers, and research facilities made up the bulk of the customer base. The various companies manufactured everything from staple everyday items to advanced research equipment.

Matt continually monitored new developments and subscribed to numerous scientific newsletters, but one had frequently been ahead of the curve when it came to trends and fresh developments.

He clicked the link to open the document. They published the newsletter online monthly, featuring a couple of dozen pages with links to articles and websites. Articles within the newsletter had inspired several new products.

Matt zipped through the index, which carried a summary of each article and a short bio about the author. He was about to close and move on when a phrase snagged his attention. “Regenerative DNA?”

The paper was by Dr. Suchet Kumar, PhD., of Jawaharlal Nehru University. The article theorized the potential of a modified DNA. Anything DNA fascinated Matt. Several projects at Inter-mol, another of his companies, involved designing and manufacturing equipment used to isolate and identify DNA genomes.

Matt had started the genome project, and now his company had inquiries from research universities and hospitals because of a unique approach Matt had proposed.

“What’s this Regenerative DNA?” He clicked the link and sent Doctor Kumar’s text to his printer, collected the pages, and began perusing the article, highlighting fascinating points. Totally immersed, he lost track of time. Some of Dr. Kumar’s hypotheses bordered on fantasy, but the concepts intrigued him.

A blaring chirp startled Matt.

“Damn!” he cursed.

The smoke detector in the kitchen screamed. Matt bolted from his chair and hustled toward the screeching noise. Stepping quickly to the oven, he grabbed an oven mitt from the counter, pulled the door opened, and, through the billowing smoke, took the smoldering, formerly frozen, roast chicken dinner from the rack. The stench brought an involuntary wrinkle to his nostrils. The heat from the oven almost seared his eyebrows. The blackened bird flesh made his eyes water, the green beans looked more like jerky, and the mashed potatoes had transformed into a charcoal briquette.

He carted the pan at arm’s length to the sink, turned on the faucet, and, with a flick of the switch, fed the burned offering to the “Gods of the Underworld,” as he often referred to the garbage disposal.

Having dispatched the offending food, he opened the kitchen door, propped the screen door open, and then grabbed a chair from the old maple dinette. Matt had to stretch to reach the still-blaring smoke detector on the ceiling but finally managed to snap it open and silence it.

“Geez, I’m going to burn the place down.” It wasn’t the first time he’d wrapped himself in a task only to forget about something on the stove or in the oven.

“Probably why you eat out more and more?”

Next stop, the refrigerator and a hope that some unspoiled lunchmeat could be found. Matt’s luck was good. A little salami and ham made a sandwich. He grabbed a beer to wash it down.

Matt carried the feast to his study, plopping the meal unceremoniously on the mahogany desk. At the same time, he recovered and sorted the printer pages he’d scattered helter-skelter in his rush to the kitchen.

He located and placed Chris’s email in his briefcase and rocked back in his leather chair to continue reading the Kumar article, snatching a bite of the sandwich and a swig of beer between pages.

In the bio, he found Dr. Suchet Kumar was a physicist specializing in quantum and Astrophysics at the University in New Delhi. It seemed odd that someone with a physics degree would be writing about DNA, but Matt was hooked and read on. The gist of Dr. Kumar’s article discussed theoretical methods for creating a DNA string that would be self-healing, regenerative.

Matt’s first thought was, “Why?” but he continued.

Several points stood out, but one in particular piqued Matt’s curiosity. Something clicked, and he had a question to pose.

That Matt only had an Associate Degree in Manufacturing had never stopped him from asking questions. A huge part of his success was due to his insatiable curiosity and an exceptional ability to grasp both abstract as well as physical concepts. He swiveled in his chair with his beer in one hand and Dr. Kumar’s article in the other. Calling up the newsletter, he found an email address for Dr. Kumar.

“Dear Dr. Kumar," he typed, "is it possible for this regenerative DNA to heal damaged brain cells and restore brain functions?”

Matt always kept questions simple. He felt that if you let the discussion get too broad, you slip away from answers into rhetoric. His question was prompted by a memory of one of his people being injured in a car wreck and suffering brain damage. Matt recalled how devastating the injury was not just to his friend and employee but to the extended families.

Being someone who preferred action to discussion, the faster Matt got the right answer, the quicker he could go into action.

The clock on the computer clicked to 10:25 p.m.

“Bedtime.” Matt adhered to his schedule. But thanks to Chris, he wasn’t sure if he could sleep. Wandering back to the kitchen, he closed and locked the door. The smoke had pretty much cleared, but the odor of the dinner fiasco still permeated the air. His nostrils twitched.

“Need a monkey for the handicapped,” he mumbled, knowing good and well he’d probably lose it, forget to feed it, or otherwise neglect it like he had so many things in his life.

He wound down watching the news and some sports and finally turned the TV off at about 11:00, slipping into a light sleep with flitting dreams.

Next Chapter later this week.