Reed Jensen (_rube_) wrote in themoderngods, @ 2012-03-01 22:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, ♥ ian ward : dropped, ♥ reed jensen, ♦ neptune |
Who: Reed (Neptune) and Ian
When: Thursday, March 1, 2012 | evening
Where: Reed’s office at the university
What: talking about weapons and stuff
Reed was packing up his things for the day and ready to head back to the apartment. He was still in his tiny place. He wouldn't move in with Lori until the weekend. He'd need the next day or so to figure out how the hell he was going to handle living with such an attractive woman when Neptune was sure to get ideas. There was bound to be trouble eventually.
That wasn't a problem tonight though. He'd return to his empty apartment, well, save for his cat. But Batman would have to wait a bit longer, because a knock sounded on his open office door, Reed looked up and wondered if he might not make it home in time to see Lori. An older man was standing there, and he looked quite serious. Rich too. “Can I help you?” Reed asked as he set his bag down. He’d been stuffing paperwork in it.
---
It took him a few days to double check the data that he had been given. And, even if it was Wes playing a joke, which didn’t normally happen but wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, everything seemed to be on the up and up. While the data was coming short, it was the best set of data that his experts had seen. And quite possibly the closest to the realm of actually coming through with succeeding. And that alone, made the investment a worthwhile risk, even knowing just how many billions would have to be poured into it. But sometimes, you just had to take that risk, if it worked, his company would soar.
“I think you have that backwards.” Ian said as he closed the door behind him. The briefcase in his hand was of the finest leather, and his clothes fit him perfectly and were definitely designer. He just reeked of money, even if he didn’t stand there saying it. “It’s what I can do for you, Dr. Jensen.” He stepped over toward the professors desk, and pulled a card out of his pocket that read: Ian Ward. CEO of Ward Technologies and Munitions. along with all the proper phone numbers, and he held it out toward Reed. He didn’t say anything further, and instead waited to see how the professor would react to the name of his company.
----
Reed was wearing the norm. Jeans. T-shirt. Flannel. Sneakers. Yeah, he was lucky, Columbia seemed to be okay with him looking like a student. He’d helped boost the school’s reputation for mechanical engineering, and a lot of people in the field were talking about his work. When you were good, no one gave a shit how you dressed, and that suited Reed just fine. Suits did not.
“Uh..” Reed started, staring at the man with a bit of apprehension. He hesitantly took the business card and inspected it. ‘Technologies and Munitions.’ Firearms probably. Reed knew these dudes might come knocking on his door eventually, but he didn’t think it would be this soon. The prototype wasn’t even working properly just yet. “The railgun. Right. So.. what.. you wanna buy my research?” he asked.
---
Ian could never dress like that, not for anything involving professionalism. It had been stamped out of him long before he got to college. If he was going to do something, he was going to look his damned best. But, he knew that wasn’t always the case with others, especially not with those that had the IQ to be amongst the top in their fields. So, he didn’t actually give Reed’s look a second glance. More than a couple of his own developers had their own little quirks as well.
“Buying your research would be a mistake.” He said as he rested his briefcase on one of the chairs students would use. Though, he didn’t sit down himself. Instead, he offered a hand toward Reed. “You can call me, Ian. I’ve always considered Mr. Ward to be my father.” He gave him a grin as he said that before he tilted his head again. “You are likely a little bit of time away from actually finishing the research. Taking it out from under you by buying it would perhaps delay that, or.. end it all together. You seem to be the genius in the field.”
That grin only widened as he gave a shallow shrug of his shoulders. “However, you are going to need funding, investments, a legal team so that when the time comes for you to actually benefit from your research you don’t get screwed in the contracts. Though, yes, I would like to bring you into my company in regards to this, so my company can get a little share of that pie too.” It was obvious, after all, hiding that detail was pointless and sometimes hurt negotiations.
----
The guy was making himself right at home. The card looked legit, so Reed accepted the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake, though he was still unsure of all this. “Ian,” he echoed. “Uh.. call me Reed.” Only people who didn’t know Reed called him Doctor Jensen. He wasn’t comfortable with the title because it was often confusing to those who were under the impression that all doctors practiced medicine.
“Right,” he said distantly, thinking about all that Ian was saying. Reed knew he’d have offers eventually. But, honestly, he expected the military to knock on his door first. He knew they were interested, but no formal offer had ever been made. Was this a formal offer?
He motioned to the chair where Ian had set his bag. “Take a load off.” Reed did the same, sliding his bag off the desk and onto the floor as he sat down. “So, um.. are you wanting me to quit my job here? Because.. I like teaching. I mean, yeah, I wanna develop the railgun into an actual working model that can be manufactured, but things are going well with it as a part time project.. and I still have time and money left from my grant.”
---
Oh, he was legit. Ian was an arms dealer, there was no doubt about that, but he was a legitimate one, fully licensed and accredited in dozens of countries. His company, whenever Reed looked into it, was one of the largest in the world, and legal in all categories. Even if sometimes they were rumored to do shady dealings, there were few weapon companies that didn’t have those stories.
“Reed.” He said with an incline of his head as he picked his bag up and set it at the foot of the desk and he slid easily into the seat. “Honestly?” he said as he crossed his legs and leaned back in the seat. “I’d love for you to quit right now, come work for me and finish this project next month, so we’ve both got a trillion dollars in our pocket by Christmas.” Yes, he said the T word, for both of them.
“Logically, I know that’s not going to happen. And if that happened it might actually stymie some of your own creativity. I’ve been in this business a long time, I’ve learned a thing or two from mistakes over the years.” He was silent for a moment as he considered it, “Will you complete it before your grant runs out, however? Are there tools and devices you want that you have to settle for second best because of the cost? Things you can’t get your hands on? Having an investor with the right connections can really help in those situations.”
----
Trillions? Shit. Reed hadn’t actually thought all that much about the money. He knew his idea, if successful, would make him successful, but that wasn’t what drove him. He was motivated by one thing: self-satisfaction. Reed liked pushing his mind as far as it would go. He wanted to see what he was capable of accomplishing. Could he do something that no one else had been able to do?
He shrugged at the first question. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve made a ton of progress, and the models keep improving. But.. yeah.. the materials I need are expensive, and the lab isn’t top of the line.” Still, Columbia had given him a great deal more money than anyone else was willing to offer. It wasn’t enough though. “I need a better testing facility, faster processors, access to some rare metals..” the list was long.
---
He wasn’t sure it would be worth trillions to be honest, though several hundred billion if marketed right. And, that’s what Ian did, he marketed. He made the deals, he created the contracts. Others made the items, created the items, but he sold them and made the money. The look he got from the dollar amount only seemed to increase that smile.
He leaned forward to lift his brief case so it sat on the second chair in front of Reed’s desk. Then he opened it, and it was full of papers and folders, almost entirely filled. Those couldn’t all be about the railgun, right? Ian pulled out the second folder in the pile and opened it as he thumbed through a couple of pages. Then, he pulled out a page and offered it toward Reed. “This is what my experts thought you would need.” He said as he slid the paper onto the desk.
It would be a list of items, some construction, some electrical, some even chemical, that the experts at his company thought the gun needed. Not all of it would be correct, but a lot of it just might be what was missing from Reed’s lap. None of the prices were there, but it was all top of the line equipment.
----
Reed eyed Ian rather than the list, at least at first. Then he took the paper. “Your experts, huh?” Reed asked suspiciously. Who were Ian’s experts, and what the hell did they know about his gun? Apparently quite a lot. The list was nothing short of something he’d send to Santa if he believed in such things. If he’d thought about it over the course of his work on the gun, it was on this list. There were more than a handful of items that Reed felt would simply be impossible. And, well, he’d just assumed he’d have to be creative and work around such things. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been in short supply when creating or re-creating a machine.
Reed put the paper down, but he didn’t quite let it go. He wanted everything on it, so his hand stayed on top of the page. His index finger tapped at it. Lacking what was known as a poker face, Reed’s desire for these materials was obvious. “So how’s this work? I sign a contract with you that says you get some percentage of the profits? Because, I gotta be honest.. money isn’t my goal. I’m doing this to see if I can, and I’d like to help people in the end.” He was being semi-evasive but then decided to be blunt. “What I’m getting at.. is I don’t want my gun being used against good people. So if you’re looking to sell this to the top bidder without any regard for who they are and how they use it, then this isn’t gonna work.”
---
That earned a smirk as he tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. “I own an international multi-billion dollar weapons enterprise, Reed. You don’t think I have people, or know people who’d be able to understand your research?” He asked with an amused chuckle. “They might not be able to perform it, but they understand it. Far better than I do to be honest, but then that’s why they’re there, to make sure I’m not just listening to some fancy scientist feeding me useless data.”
“And let’s be frank here.” Ian said with a shake of his head. “You’re making a gun. Perhaps one of the most powerful guns ever created. If nobody else buys it, the military will. And once it’s in the military’s hands, it’s going to be used against people. Good people, bad people, guilty people, innocent people. There’s no gun in the world that’s never been misused somewhere. Especially if the military uses it. And no, I’m not bashing our military. That’s a fact of life. So if that is a concern, take your research, destroy it, and never pick up a pencil again. That is the only way your demand will come true.”
“However.” He said as he leaned forward, his arms crossed under him as he considered Reed for another moment. “I run a legitimate business. We deal with defense contractors and governments. I don’t sell to terrorists or criminal enterprises. That doesn’t profit my company in the long run.” Not that those groups don’t get their hands on his stuff, it’s just never direct. “How this would work, is you get yourself a lawyer. You come into my office and together with my lawyers, we work out a suitable contract. My company would deal with the government when they come calling, and make sure that they don’t screw you out of your invention. And once that’s done, we figure out how to go from there to keep everyone happy. And I’m very good at doing that. Very good.”
----
Reed raised an eyebrow. “If they understand it so well, why don’t you ask them to build it.” He scooted the paper toward Ian with that. Reed wasn’t arrogant, not by any means, but he knew his shit, and he knew that Ian’s experts were probably well below his understanding of the science involved here. “I’m not feeding you anything. You came to me. Honestly, I don’t care if this ever goes beyond a lab so long as I can get it working the way I know it can. Whether it sells..” he shrugged. Money wasn’t the end goal for Reed.
“I know that weapons are always going to be used to hurt innocent people, because weapons are used by people. We make mistakes.” Reed wondered if he was making one by talking to Ian. The guy had a point. This weapon would be used to kill. There was no question about that. He wondered how nuclear scientists felt. Was Reed doomed to end up just like Philip Morrison? He didn’t want to live in regret. He could one day live to quote J. Robert Oppenheimer. Hell, why not quote the guy now? “I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Reed sighed and reclined back slightly in his chair, rocking on its hinges. “I’m gonna have to think about it. But I can promise you that I won’t entertain any other offers in the meantime.” He felt like that was a respectable way to handle this. Reed couldn’t say for sure that he was willing to sell his invention once complete. Maybe he would. And if he decided to do so, he’d talk to Ian and his boys first, see what they had in mind. “You came to me first, so you deserve to be heard first.”
---
“There’s a difference between understanding and being able to do the work, Reed. I’m sure you’re quite aware. They can read your work, but can they finish it? If they could, nobody would need you to finish the work.” Ian said with a chuckle, and a shake of his head. Scientists, always so damn moody, why were they always so damn moody? “You have to get it working before it can get out of a lab, and we both know there’s no promise that you’ll ever succeed. So, I’m taking an awful risk getting involved with it.” He waved his hand at the letter, dismissing it. He had copies, he didn’t need it.
By the look in Reed’s eyes, he was quite certain he didn’t really understand the power in his hands. It was a game changer on the battlefield as a proper railgun would render tanks and armored vehicles useless. It would render fortifications useless. A viable railgun would change warfare in a way that hadn’t been done since the Second World War, when everything about war changed.
But, he rose to his feet and he gave Reed a grin as he offered his hand again. “Honestly, Professor, I would’ve been disappointed with any other answer. I fully expect you to look into my company, and into me. I give it a month before you have a dozen people breaking down your door to talk to you, or people trying to steal it out from under you. I wouldn’t be surprised if our own government tried to steal the technology. Don’t take too long to make up your mind, Professor. Best deals happen in the opening minutes of a game. You enjoy your night now.”
----
Well, Reed couldn’t speak for other scientists, but he was moody right now because he had a fucking god being an asshole in his head. Neptune had wanted his trident back, and still did, but now he wanted this gun of Reed’s even more. Ultimate power was a driving force for any god. They all wanted to be on top. If Reed made this weapon successfully and changed the course of humanity by extension, then this vessel would be respected and feared by millions. The possibility appealed to Neptune. He’d gotten stuck with a better vessel than he originally realized.
Reed got to his feet as well and shook Ian’s hand. The man was upfront and seemed honest. Reed respected that. “Yeah, I’ll do my homework, though you strike me as a blunt person with nothing to hide.” Unlike Reed. “I’ll be in touch soon.. one way or the other.” He wouldn’t leave the guy waiting. That would be rude, and that wasn’t Reed’s style.
---
Ian wasn’t thinking ultimate power. He wasn’t thinking of the damage the gun could do, or the adulation of millions. Ian honestly only had one goal in mind, and that was the almighty dollar. Or the Yen, or the euro, he didn’t care. His entire focus was on how much money he could make out of the deal, and he didn’t honestly even care who the weapons ended up with eventually. It would all be legal, it would all be legit, and he would be very rich. Sure, the professor would get some of that wealth, he earned it, but that’s all Ian cared about.
“Sometimes, Reed, it’s better to be up front, rather than sneaky. I’m sure you’re going to have enough sneaky people soon enough.” Really, it was all a tactic to make him stand out. Let all the snake oil salesman come with their too sweet deals, they would sound off and wrong now, no matter if they offered more than he did or not. “I’ll be waiting for your phone call.” And with that, he picked up his briefcase, and turned to walk out of the office.