Bruce found a copy of Carl's resume from the printer. This is the beginning of the end. He didn't mention that resume, but he could feel Carl's nervousness, guilt was coming out of him, and Bruce could almost smell it.
Carl Weber is a good man. He is one of the most outstanding people Bruce knows. They have been studying this technology for the past two years. At first, Carl brought many things to the table, but as time passed, Carl brought fewer and fewer things. Bruce's speed far surpassed him, his intelligence, and his different ways of thinking, never ceased to surprise Carl. When he was weak, Carl felt jealous. He has never met someone like Bruce. From any point of view, he is outstanding, but he is smarter, more creative, more ambitious, and more cutting-edge. Compared with Bruce's talent, Carl began to feel like a schoolboy. This is unfair, life is unfair, and Karl is not the kind of person who is depressed. He is a scientist first, and a man of morality and standards second. He thinks jealousy is a small person, he is not a small person. It is true that in his weakest moments, he succumbed to those emotions that were under-evolved, but it won't last long, and these emotions won't make him feel better. It will only get worse.
Carl could no longer see the direction of Bruce's research. He didn't know whether it was because he couldn't understand rationally, or in fact he didn't understand at all. Bruce said every day that they were close, but Carl was no longer so sure. His conviction and confidence in Bruce gradually weakened over the months of delay, and his funds became less. Even though Bruce was talking to one investor after another, they couldn't see what Bruce saw, and the project soon went bankrupt. NS.
Bruce didn't mention the resume. After he collected his test results, he left it on the printer. It felt like a punch in the stomach, and at that moment, Bruce began to doubt himself. At every step on the road, he felt very sure. This technology will change the world, and he is never surprised when a pretentious person from a research company or a think tank member of an Ivy League school does not get this technology. They are constrained by their short-sighted vision, their IQ, their greed, the need to make money and profit, the desire to become rich, and driving enviable cars, but Carl? How long has Karl not believed in this plan
He looked at Carl. He was connecting electrodes to the head of a female volunteer. Every task was carried out conscientiously, religiously and methodically.
The night was long and tense. Carl left home about midnight, and Bruce continued to work hard. He felt like he was on the verge of danger, on the cusp of danger, but this was nothing new. He always felt that he was on the verge of danger. His heart is itchy, always thinking of this research in his mind, and this research has never left him. He is very close, very close. It is only a matter of time. Every day when he comes to work, he feels strongly that today may be that day. He just gave up on that day. Because of fatigue, he saw two people, coffee, even a freshly brewed coffee pot, in his mouth. It tastes like burnt garbage. He would stagger back home, climb into the bed, curl up next to Sarah's warm body, and go to sleep.
This morning, even though he was barefoot, turned off the light, and did not flush the toilet, he woke her up.
"When was the last time you ate?" she asked, her words full of sleepiness.
Oh shit. During the one or two hours he sleeps every night, her sleeping body warms him, smells her sweet skin, and he lives for it. This is his favorite moment. When he lay there staring at the wall on her shoulders until he fell off the cliff and fell asleep, he didn't know what she had dreamed of.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you up," he said.
"I'll make you something to eat," she said and got up.
"No," he said. "I'm not hungry. I just want to lie beside you."
She returned to her sex, he crawled to her side.
"What's wrong?" she said after a long silence. Bruce thought she was asleep again.
"We are out of money," he said to her neck, pulling her into the curve of his body, hugging her tightly.
"Oh," she said. "You have no money before. You will figure out a way."
"Maybe not this time."
"Oh, forget it, one thing Bruce Danman can do is find a way out of trouble."
"You believe me," he hugged her tightly. This is not a question, but a statement of facts.
"It's always like this," she said.
Bruce kissed the back of her neck.
"I won't let you down," he murmured.
"You never knew." He could hear the smile in her voice.
"Do what you do best and understand what I think," she said.
"The machine is in the laboratory," he said.
"It's like you need a machine to read my thoughts," she said.
He smiled. "I love you too," he said.
Finally fell asleep. Not with the feet of kittens like some people do, but with freight trains traveling at 60 miles an hour. There were no nightmares this time, Bruce was greatly relieved, but there were no sweet dreams either.
Bruce struggled to wake up just after 9 o'clock in the morning. He blinked, and the strong sunlight came in through the window. Sarah likes not to cover the windows. Their fourth flour apartment overlooks a tree-lined hill.
Less than four hours of sleep is a typical feature of Bruce. He moved his leg to the edge of the bed, rubbed his stubble face a few times, and then stood up. He staggered to the bathroom, took a shower, and shaved.
Sarah left him a plate of breakfast, scrambled eggs, sausage, and a leftover sweet potato, which read: "Heat me, eat me." Another note on the coffee machine reads: Press my button and drink me. Recently, their exchanges have turned into notes, murmured goodbye and greetings, all of which happened at night or early in the morning. He missed Sara's face.
Bruce ate a cold breakfast and drank hot coffee. He sat on a stool at the kitchen bar and wrote down a list of tasks he must complete today. First, he needs to find more funds for this project. They paid $40 to the final round of volunteers. No one has enough money to buy any form of commitment, especially asking volunteers to come here late at night, connect electrodes to their heads, and scan their brains. People are naturally sensitive to anything attached to their heads. They need people to promise to come back night after night so that they can unify the results, but more often, volunteers will come one night, think that $40 is not worth the shit, and then never come again. After all, they can donate plasma and make more money.
He thought he might sell his car. If necessary, he can take a bus to the laboratory. This is a band-aid to solve the tourniquet problem, but this is all he has left. He squeezed every penny, asked every rich man, and sold all other valuable things. He is at the end of the line.
Oh shit. How much can that car sell for? two thousand? Up to three thousand
He didn't finish his coffee or breakfast and left. He felt the pressure in his head buzzing. He needs to figure this out and make progress. It's today.
He thinks over and over again how to better deal with investors and research facilities. How many times has someone told him that we are doing a scientific career, not science fiction? Bruce is very respected in his field. They will use a variety of interesting research projects to get him, and these projects are funded by them. How perfect and smart he is. Doesn't he want to bring real change to mankind? Think about what he can achieve in Alzheimer's disease research, dementia research, and Parkinson's disease research. There are many other neurological and brain diseases, very real, terrible things that can benefit from Bruce's involvement.
Dr. Harvey, Bruce's mentor, has stopped washing his hands.
"You are chasing rainbows, and you could have used God's gifts to create rainbows. This... this... I don't know what this is. Pseudoscience. Vanity. You turned yourself into a joke. It's not too late. You can still change your path, before you tarnish your reputation and make it irreparable," he said.
"Can't you see it?" Bruce turned around and said to him: "Don't you see how important this technology is to humans? How many lives can it save? What difference can it make? It completely defeats nature? "
"You are not God, even though you think you are," Dr. Harvey said.
"Oh, don't do that, don't talk nonsense with me," Bruce said incredulously. "We are playing with nature every day. People like us are guides. We lead mankind out of dark and desperate caves, discovered fire, and invented Wheels, penicillin and chemotherapy. There is no God. Only us. We are God. You and I are both."
"Enough," Doctor Harvey frowned. "Enough." He shook his head. He spoke softly, his jaw tight. "You don't have to listen to my advice. Just treat it as respect for me. Do you care about my opinions and respect me? Your ego is infinite, maybe as you have been told since childhood, how smart you are. You are smart, but you are still a man, and I am still your predecessor. More importantly, I care about you. I know that you have the ability to do great things, create a new future for some people, and stay in history. Name, but you will do what you want. I know."
"I'm doing great things. I'm creating a new future. I will be recorded in the annals of history. You and everyone else are tortured by a narrow vision. Put aside your preconceived notions of the world and the brain. Trust me. Vision. I saw things that you can’t see and your brain can’t even understand. I know, no doubt. Look. Wait. I’ll pave the way for you when you go down unwillingly , I will stand at the end of my paved road and watch you and others slowly develop in front of my eyes." (to be continued) (end of this chapter)