“So why are companies talking about twelve million dollars?”
The scientist folded his hands.
“Because the value isn't necessarily in selling raw roots by the truckload.”
She frowned.
He continued.
“It's in the possibility of a reliable cultivated source for a material that may be useful after development.”
He paused.
“Your father's work could save years of plant selection and production research.”
Dileia stared.
Then slowly looked toward the retired mechanic.
The older man was wiping his eyes.
She had never seen him cry.
He cleared his throat.
“Walter used to say the roots were worth more than they looked.”
Dileia laughed through tears.
“He said that about everything.”
The mechanic smiled.
“Even me.”
They laughed softly.
Then Dr. Meier became serious.
“Miss Ashford, I'd like to discuss a limited research agreement. But you should first obtain independent legal advice.”
Dileia nodded immediately.
“I will.”
He continued.
“We also need to establish the biological material's provenance, confirm the current crop matches the archived strain, and verify that there are no legitimate competing rights.”
Her expression hardened.
“Competing rights?”
The scientist glanced toward the door.
“Harlon's company has made claims.”
Dileia felt anger rising.
“Claims to my father's crop?”
“Claims involving certain commercial arrangements. Whether they're valid remains to be determined.”
She shook her head.
“Dad never sold him anything.”
“That is important information.”
The scientist slid a business card across the table.
Then added, “We are interested in your father's research. But I do not want you signing away your farm because somebody promises immediate wealth.”
Dileia stared at him.
For the first time, she saw something that reminded her of Walter.
Not his appearance.
His caution.
The willingness to separate a promising idea from a proven result.
She nodded.
“Thank you.”
Dr. Meier smiled.
“Your father left an unusually detailed scientific record.”
Her eyes filled.
“He was stubborn.”
The scientist laughed softly.
“Most good experimental researchers are.”
They spent another hour reviewing the available information.
At the end, Dileia asked whether Helvetic would put its proposed next steps in writing.
Dr. Meier agreed.
She also asked whether the company could provide a documented funding mechanism for the immediate evaluation work without forcing her to surrender the land or the underlying crop rights.
He said that was possible to discuss, subject to the necessary approvals.
Then he paused.
“When is your mortgage deadline?”
Dileia looked down.
“October first.”
“How much is needed?”
She hesitated.
“Eighty thousand dollars to cure the default.”
The scientist became thoughtful.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he nodded.
“I understand the urgency.”
She looked toward him.
He continued.