“Sit down, Clark. Roger, is it? Let me tell you something about our company, Roger.”
Clark sat.
“I won’t give you a sales pitch, Roger. I’ll just give you the straight dope. We’re a young company, and a growing company. We’ve been in existence for less than five years, and already you can see how we’ve grown. By the end of the year, we will employ more than three hundred people.”
“Very impressive, sir.”
“It certainly is,” Blood said, with a smile. “But we’re not stopping at three hundred. We’re not stopping at three thousand. Far from it: we are going to expand indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely?”
“Yes. Look here: what’s the largest corporation in America today?”
Clark shrugged. “General Motors, I suppose.”
“Right! And what does General Motors do?”
“Makes automobiles.”
”Right again! And what is so great about making automobiles?”
“Well—”
“The answer,” Harvey Blood said, “is that there is nothing very great about automobiles. They are a terrible product. They are destroying our landscape, ruining our cities, poisoning our air. Automobiles are the curse of the modern world.”
“I suppose if you look at it—”
“I do, I do. But now I ask you: what could a corporation do, if it manufactured some product which was not destructive, ruinous, and poisonous? What limits would there be?”
“None.”
“Exactly! None. And if that corporation went even further, to the point where it manufactured positive, healthful, beautiful products and instilled the desire for them, where would it all end?”
Clark said nothing.
“You see? You see how perfect it is?”
Clark could not understand how this was related to enzymes involved in tryptophan synthesis. He said so.
“Look here,” Blood said. “We haven’t got a use for tryptophan yet. But we’re working on it. We’re developing it. That’s what we do here, develop things. We take raw, crude scientific innovation, and we produce applications for it. We innovate, we cogitate, we initiate—the three pillars of our advancing firm.” He chuckled briefly. “You see, Roger, we are specialists in putting knowledge to use. We accumulate useless information, and make it useful. We innovate, cogitate, initiate.”
“I see.”
“And we pay extremely well. I don’t know if you were told, but starting salary for a person of your qualifications is 49,500 dollars.”
“Very reasonable.”
“A well-paid employee is a happy employee, Roger.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t beat around the bush, Roger. You’re thinking of working in our biochemical division, testing drugs. That is one of the most exciting divisions we have. Our people are engaged in testing and applying new compounds in ways previously undreamed of. We are working on the frontiers of research.”
It occurred to Clark that he still had remarkably little idea about the company, and the job they were offering him.
“Intellectual stimulation, pleasant working conditions, and financial compensation. That is what we provide for our employees.”
“Where exactly would I be working? In this building?”
“No,” Blood said. “Our research facilities are located a short distance away. Naturally, since many of our projects are confidential, we must maintain a certain amount of secrecy.”
“Yes.”
Someone entered the room, a cheerful young man, carrying what looked like a large poster.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Blood, but we need approval of the dummy.”
“All right,” Blood said.
Clark leaned forward, hoping for a look at the poster. He could see that it was a penciled drawing of some kind, like an ad for something. Space for copy and photographs were blocked out.
Dr. Blood looked at it closely. “What’s it for?”
“The New Yorker,” the man said. “That’s our first big market.”
“All right,” Dr. Blood said. “Go ahead with it.”
“Thank you sir,” the man said, and left.
“Well now, Roger, where were we? Oh yes, talking about secrecy. It’s a problem, Roger. I’ll be frank. Our confidential work imposes restrictions on all of us. But we manage, and I’m sure you won’t find it much of a burden.” He looked at his watch. “Now, I’m afraid I must go. I have an, ah, appointment in half an hour. Do you have any other questions?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Fine. Then we’ll expect to hear of your decision within the next few days.”
“All right.”
“Good luck, Roger.”
Clark left, with a final glimpse of the stocky, red-faced man and his enormous polished desk. Harvey Blood smiled benignly.
Roger Clark smiled back.
8. THE PLACE TO GO
AERO TRAVEL, LOCATED ON the unfashionable (eastern) end of Sunset Strip, was operated by Ron Harmon. Clark had known him since college days; they had both been in the same fraternity. Since then, Clark had booked all his vacations through Aero and Harmon had arranged for discounts wherever possible. They were old friends.
Clark arrived at the office late in the day, just as Harmon was preparing to shut down. Clark went in, looking past the posters of Switzerland and Hawaii, and inquired about his reservations for Mexico.
“For what?” Harmon said. He seemed rather distant and preoccupied.
“Mexico. You remember.”
“Mexico?” He searched among his files.
“Ron, are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, yes, I feel fine.” Harmon continued to search. His fingers moved slowly, sluggishly through the stacks of papers in his desk drawer.
“You aren’t acting fine.”
“What? Oh. Listen, I just got back.”
“Back?”
“Listen,” Harmon said, ignoring the files and closing the drawer. “Listen, Roger, you don’t want to go to Mexico.”
“I don’t?”
“Hell no. Listen, I just got back.”
“Back from what?”
Harmon sighed. “That’s a good question. It’s really back from where, but it doesn’t matter. Back from what is just as good.”
Clark said nothing.
“Listen, Roger, I’m your buddy, right?”
“Right.”
“And I’m a travel agent, right?”
“Right.”
“So listen: will you take my advice?”
Clark hesitated. “That depends.”
“Don’t go to Mexico, Roger.”
“Why?”
“Don’t go.” Harmon stared at him, his eyes distant. “Don’t go.”
“But Ron, I thought it was all set up, the plane reservations, the hotels…”
“It is. But don’t go.”
“Didn’t you tell me that the girls in Mexico City were—”
“Forget that. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“Listen,” Ron Harmon said. “I just got back from the greatest place in the world. It’s a new resort, it’s just fabulous, and in a year or so it will be the most famous vacation spot in the world, bar none. As a tourist attraction, it’s unsurpassed. It’s better than the Alhambra in Spain, better than the pyramids in Egypt, better than the Taj Mahal in India, better than anything.”
Clark said, “What is it?”
“It’s great,” Harmon said. “Absolutely great. Nothing can touch it for rest, relaxation, excitement adventure—”
“But what is it?”
“It’s a resort,” Harmon said. “A brand new resort of a type previously unknown. We’re in the middle of an age, you know. The resort age. Travel is greater than ever before in history, and resorts are booming as never before. The Aga Khan is developing Sardinia. The Costa Brava is booming. South America is just beginning; the Caribbean is expanding fantastically. But all of these places offer basically the same thing—sun, a new environment, a little action….”