patterns from across the country and out to sea. Global and regional satellite data. There are so many variables, so many factors that even the most sophisticated software and weather analytical tools can only make educated guesses.”
“Chaos Theory,” suggested Solomon. “A butterfly flapping its wings in Madagascar might contribute to a hurricane in Cuba the next week. Am I right?”
“An overly-dramatic Hollywood simplification, but basically you’ve got it.”
“Well, Mace, then how did I do it?”
“I’m dying to know.”
Solomon grinned. “Agree to work for me, and I’ll show you.”
“I don’t know.…”
“I’ll do that one better, Mason. Come work for me and you’ll be the one to show me, to demonstrate how to complete what we’ve started, to perfect the tools we’ve already created.”
“So you’ve got some sort of model? A complex software forecasting tool? And it’s good enough to predict the two-minute storm we just had, down to the exact time, weeks in advance?”
“Imagine,” Solomon said, “the practical uses. Hurricane warnings can come a month ahead, rather than just days or hours, allowing for all the necessary preparations, evacuations or fortifying that needs to happen. Imagine if we’d had something like this before Katrina.”
Mason blinked, thinking, considering the potential—if it worked.
“Imagine,” Solomon continued, “selling this service to agricultural companies, state and world governments, helping them plan their harvests. Wineries can protect their vines from early frosts, farmers can know far in advance which crops will thrive best in the season’s expected weather. The possibilities are endless. Think of the good this could do the world over if we can eliminate some of the chaos. If we can peer through the randomness, the sudden and sweeping changes Mother Nature hurls our way—the devastating natural disasters, the floods, the tornadoes, the ice storms and blizzards.
“Think of it, Mason. And tell me your heart isn’t racing right now. If the fact that my firm isn’t dedicated to boldly improving the lives of everyone the world over—evidenced by the immediate cure of your precious Shelby—then at least believe that together we can finally level the playing field. We can finally be on equal footing with the elements, instead of just shaking our fists at the howling winds and moving in later to survey the damage and clean up until the next disaster.”
Solomon’s hands were trembling, his face inches from Mason’s, eyes locked on his. “Tell me this isn’t exactly what you’ve longed for your entire existence. I know about your past, I know what you’ve lived through and suffered at the hands of such chaos. I’m giving you the chance of a lifetime, Mason Grier. Do you accept?”
A buzzing echoed after his words, and Mason noted a lone dragonfly—yellow with red stripes hovering behind Solomon’s ear, darting out as if watching for his reaction.
“I … what will I do?”
Solomon smiled, clasped his hand on Mason’s shoulder. “You’ll change the world, Mason.”
Looking away, overwhelmed for the moment, he said, “I mean, if I accept, what do I do? When do I start?”
“Just show up on Monday morning, at eight sharp. Oh, and make sure you tell Ms. Brock the bad news, but don’t worry. I hear your station has been looking at bringing in some younger—and prettier—talent soon anyway. Someone to help their flagging ratings. No offense.”
Mason nodded. He hadn’t heard that but it didn’t surprise him, given Pamela’s relentless drive for improvement. “What about the … other aspects?”
“Money? You’ve just tripled your salary, Mason. Of course, Channel Seven was paying you a pauper’s wage, so I thought it only fair. Plus a twenty-percent signing bonus, payable immediately. I can have it wired to your account tonight. That should help with your wife’s care should you have to work extra hours, on occasion.”
“That’s … too generous, really. But maybe I should talk this over.…”
“With Lauren, sure. Take all the time you want, but who are you kidding, Mason? You know you will be here Monday morning. This opportunity is too good to pass up. For nothing else, you’re like a wide-eyed kid at a magic performance. You want—you need to know how the magician has done the trick. I’ve invited you up onto the stage and you’ve seen it up close, but you still don’t know. Now, Mason, I’m inviting you backstage.” He grinned wide, showing off the perfectly white, hungry teeth. “Join me.”
The clouds dissipated, the blue sky burst through and the sun dazzled off the rooftop glen as Mason reached out and shook Solomon’s hand.