Conflict of Interest

Matt Lester

Imperial Science Institute

London

April 2006

I’m sitting in the cramped cubby-hole that passes for my office, late on an overcast Friday afternoon, when my whole world changes.

“Harry wants to see you in his office,” Pauline Drake, tall, angular and not-to-be-messed with, appears around the door frame two feet away. She looks pointedly at the telephone, which I’ve taken off its cradle, before meeting my eyes with a look of droll disapproval. “Right away.”

I glance over the paperwork strewn across my desk. It’s the last Friday of the month, which means that all timesheets have to be in with Accounts by five. As Research Manager for Nanobot, it’s my job to collate team activities, and I take pride in the fact that I’ve never missed a deadline.

But it’s unusual for Harry to dispatch his formidable P.A. down from the third floor—and with such an absolute demand. I can’t remember the phrase “right away” being used before.

Something must be up.

A short while later I’m getting out from behind my desk. It’s not a straightforward maneuver. You have to rise from the chair at forty five degrees to avoid hitting the shelves directly above, before squeezing, one leg at a time, through the narrow gap between desk and filing cabinet. Then there’s the walk along a rabbit’s warren of corridors and up four flights of a narrow, wooden staircase with its unyielding aroma of industrial disinfectant and wet dog hair.

As I make my way across the open plan section of the third floor, I’m aware of being stared at and people whispering. When I make eye contact with a couple of the HR people they glance away, embarrassed.

Something’s definitely up.

To get to the corner office, I first have to pass through the anteroom where Pauline has returned to work noiselessly at her computer. She nods towards Harry’s door. Unusually it is open. Even more unusually, an unfamiliar hush has descended on his office, instead of the usual orchestral blast.

When I arrive, it’s to find Harry standing, staring out the window at his less-than-impressive view over the tangled gray sprawl of railway lines converging on Kings Cross Station. Arms folded and strangely withdrawn, I get the impression he’s been waiting specially for me.

As I appear he gestures, silently, to a chair across his desk.

Harry Saddler is the very model of the Mad Professor, with a few non-standard eccentricities thrown in for good measure. Mid-fifties, bespectacled, with a shock of spiky, gray hair, in his time he’s been an award-winning researcher. More recent circumstances have also forced him to become an expert in the area of public-private partnerships. It was he who saved the centuries-old Institute—and all our jobs—by doing a deal with Acellerate, an LA based biotech incubator, just over a year ago.

“A short while ago I had a call from L.A. with the news I’ve been half-expecting for the past twelve months,” he tells me, his expression unusually serious. “Acellerate have finished their review of our research projects. They like Nanobot,” he brushes fallen cigarette ash off his lapel. “They really like Nanobot. So much that they want to move the whole kit and caboodle to California. And as the program originator and Research Manager, they want you there too.”

The news takes me completely by surprise. Sure, there’ve been visitors from the States during the past year, and earnest talk of information exchange. But I never expected the deal with Acellerate to have such direct, personal impact. Or to be so sudden.

“They’re moving very quickly on this,” continues

Harry. “They want you there in six weeks ideally. Definitely eight. Blakely is taking a personal interest in the program.”

“Eight weeks?” I’m finding this overwhelming. “Why do I have to move to California at all? Can’t they invest in what we’re doing over here?”

Harry shakes his head in weary resignation. “You’ve seen the new shareholder structure,” he says. “As much as Acellerate talk about respecting our independence, the reality is that they hold a controlling interest. They call the shots. They can strip what they like out of the institute and there’s really not a lot we can do to stop them.”

I’m not thinking about Acellerate. I’m wondering about my girlfriend, Isabella. She’s more important to me than anything else in the world and after three years of working long and hard for Bertollini, the drinks manufacturer, she’s just been promoted to Group Product Manager. The idea of her leaving her new job is a non-starter and there’s no way I’m leaving her behind in London, no matter how great the interest of the legendary Bill Blakely.

Harry mistakes the cause of my concern. “If you look at what’s happened to the other research programs Acellerate have taken to LA,” he reassures me, “they’ve gone stratospheric.” Pausing, he regards me more closely for a long while before querying in a low voice, “Isabella?”

“Exactly.”

“Take her with you!”

“It’s not that simple. She’s just been promoted. And she’s close to her family.”

“A girl like her,” Harry has met her at institute functions over the years, “she’ll get a job like that in Los Angeles,” he snaps his fingers. “And you’ll be giving her family a good excuse to visit Disneyland.”

As always, Harry is trying to keep focused on the positive. I understand, and I’m all the more appreciative because I know how hard this must be for him. Nanobot has always been one of his favorites. It was Harry who brought me into the institute when he discovered the subject of my Masters thesis. Harry who nurtured the program through its early stages. He and I enjoy a close relationship—more than my boss, he’s also my mentor and confidante. Now, just as the program’s starting to get interesting, he’s having it taken off him. What’s more, who’s to say it will end with Nanobot? It seems that Acellerate can cherry pick whatever they like from the institute and leave Harry with all the leftovers. Small wonder he’s in no mood for the Three Tenors.

“You really must see this as the opportunity that it is,” he tells me. “With Acellerate behind you, you can accelerate the program way beyond what we can afford here. You could get to prototype stage in two, three years instead of seven or eight. With positive early tests the sky really is the limit. You’ll be working at the heart of nanotech development for one of the best-funded scientific institutes on earth. Plus you’ll even be able to catch a sun tan. Think of this as a great adventure!”