"Is it always like this?" Celia asked. Martin seemed amused.”Usually. And almost everyone comes here. It's the only time some of us get to see each other.”
"It does appear to me," Sam said, "that your setup in this building doesn't allow much privacy.”
Martin shrugged.”That can be a nuisance at times. But you get used to it.”
"But should you have to get used to it?" When there was no answer, Sam went on, lowering his voice to avoid being heard by others nearby, "I was wondering, Martin, if you'd be interested in pursuing the same work you're doing now, but under superior conditions, and with more facilities and help.”
A half smile played over the scientist's face as he asked,
"Superior conditions where?" "What I'm suggesting," Sam said, "as no doubt you've guessed, is that you leave Cambridge University and come to work with us at Felding-Roth. There would be many advantages for you, and it would be in Britain where we're planning-" "Excuse me!" As Martin cut in, he appeared concerned.”May I ask you something?" "Of course.”
"Is the offer of a grant from your company conditional on this?" Sam answered, "Absolutely not. You already have the grant, to which there are no strings attached, other than the one we agreed. On that I give you my word.”
"Thank you. For a moment I was worried.”
The full and boyish smile returned.”I don't wish to be rude, but I think it will save us both time if I tell you something.”
It was Celia who said, "Go ahead.”
"I'm an academic scientist and I intend to remain one," Martin declared. "I won't go into all the reasons, but one is freedom. By that, I mean freedom to do the kind of research I want, without commercial pressures.”
"You'd have freedom with us Sam began. But he stopped as Martin shook his head.
"There'd be commercial factors to consider. Tell me honestly wouldn't there?" Sam admitted, "Well, from time to time, some. We're in business, after all.”
"Exactly. But here there are no commercial considerations. Just pure science, a search for knowledge. For myself, I want to keep it that way. Will you have more tea?" "Thank you, no," Celia said. Sam shook his head. They rose to go. Outside, on Tennis Court Road and standing by the rented Jaguar, Martin told Sam, "Thank you for everything, including the job offer. And you too, Celia. But I'll stay at Cambridge which, apart from this building"-he glanced behind him and grimaced-"is a beautiful place.”
"It's been a pleasure," Sam said.”And about working for us, though I regret your decision, I understand it.”
He got into the car. From the seat beside him, with the window down, Celia told Martin, "Cambridge is a beautiful place. I've never been here until today. I wish I had time to see more.”
"Hey, hold it!" Martin said.”How long are you staying in Britain?" She considered.”Oh, probably another two weeks.”
"Then why not come back for a day? It's easy to get here. I'd be happy to show you around.”
"I'd like that very much," Celia said. While Sam started the car, they arranged the visit for ten days later-the Sunday after next.
In the Jaguar, driving back to London, Celia and Sam were silent, busy with their own thoughts, until they were clear of Cambridge and on the A10, headed south. Then Celia said quietly, "You want him, don't you? You want him to head our research institute.”
"Of course.”
Sam answered tersely, frustration in his voice.”He's outstanding, my guess is a genius, and he's the best I've seen since coming here. But dammit, Celia, we won't get him! He's an academic, and he'll stay one. You heard what he said, and it's obvious nothing will change his mind.”
"I wonder," Celia said thoughtfully.”I just wonder about that.”
The days that followed were filled, -for Sam and Celia, with more arrangements for the physical aspects of the Felding-Roth research institute at Harlow. But the activity, while necessary, was unsatisfying. The frustration they shared-a conviction that Dr. Martin Peat-Smith would be the best possible choice as the institute's director, but Sam's equal certainty that Martin would never agree to move from the academic world to industry-hung over them as a pervasive disappointment. During the week after their journey to Cambridge, Sam declared, "I've seen several other candidates, but none are of the caliber of Peat-Smith. Unfortunately, he's spoiled me for everyone else.”
When Celia reminded Sam that she would he seeing Martin for a second time the following Sunday, for her conducted tour of Cambridge, Sam nodded gloomily.”Of course, do what you can, but I'm not optimistic. He's a dedicated, determined young man who knows his own mind.”
Then Sam cautioned Celia, "Whatever you do when you talk to Martin, don't bring up the subject of money-I mean the kind of salary we'd pay if he came to work for us. He knows, without our saying so, that it would be big, compared with what he's getting now. But if you talk about it, and make it sound as if we believe he can be bought, he'll think we're just two more brash Americans, convinced that everything in this world can be had with dollars.”
"But Sam," Celia objected, "if Martin came to work for Felding-Roth, you'd have to discuss salary at some point.”
"At some point, yes. But not initially, because money would never be the key issue. Believe me, Celia, I know how sensitive these academic types can be, and if-as you believe-there's a chance Martin might change his mind, let's not blow it by being crass!" "As a matter of interest," Celia queried, "what are the figures?" Sam considered.”According to information I have, Martin is earning about two thousand four hundred pounds a year; that's six thousand dollars, more or less. To begin, we'd pay him four or five times that amount-say, twenty-five to thirty thousand dollars, plus bonuses.”
Celia whistled softly.”I didn't know the gap was so wide.”
"But academic people know. And, knowing it, they still choose academia, believing there's more intellectual freedom, and for scientific people more 'purity of research' in a college environment. You heard Martin when he talked about 'commercial pressures,' and how he would resent them.”
"Yes, I did," Celia said.”But you argued with him, and said the pressures weren't great.”
"That's because I'm on the industry side of the fence and it's my job to think that way. But in private, between you and me, I'll admit that maybe Martin's right.”
Celia said doubtfully, "I agree with you about most things. But I'm less sure about all that.”
It was an unsatisfactory conversation, she felt, and brooded about it afterward. She also resolved, as she put it to herself, to get a "second opinion.”
On Saturday, the day before she was due to go to Cambridge, Celia talked by telephone with Andrew and the children, as she had done at least twice weekly during her month-long stay in Britain. Both they and she were excited by her impending homecoming, now less than a week away. After the usual family talk, Celia told Andrew about Dr. Peat-Smith, the disappointment concerning him, and her exchanges on the subject with Sam. She also informed Andrew that she was meeting Mar-tin the following day. "Do you think he might change his mind?" Andrew inquired. "I've an instinct it could happen," Celia answered.”Perhaps under certain circumstances, though I've no idea what they might be. What I don't want to do, when we talk tomorrow, is handle things badly.”