"This will be a scientific announcement for the ages, more than DNA, cloning, everything!"
"No it won't!" Howie yelled, jumping from his seat.
"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, his face masked in shock.
"I mean this stays with the five of us. You promised!"
"Bull shit! You can't keep this to yourself! Granted, we have to plan how to best make it public but. . ."
"'But,' nothing! It's my fucked up brain! I'll deny it happened and you'll look like a fool!"
"It's my equipment!" Quinn retorted.
"Stop it!" Martha yelled.
Betsy and I were more shocked at the buried animosity that the other three must have witnessed over the past few weeks. I stepped forward.
"We all need to stop and think this through and not make any rash decisions," I said. "What you have is far too important. Howie was right about one thing; it's imperative we keep this matter to ourselves until we firm some decisions."
"I need a drink," Quinn said. He rose and went to the kitchen.
"What about further testing?" Betsy asked, trying to ease the tension.
Martha scowled. "Right now it reminds me of Ben and me on the Amherst playground as kids arguing who owns the ball and who owns the bat."
Quinn returned with a tray, glasses, beer and a bottle of wine, looking somewhat apologetic. "I'm tested out, at least for now."
For some reason, everyone looked toward me.
"What we need is a plan but let's give it until tomorrow to clear our minds. Today needs time to ferment."
Quinn, still steaming, plopped down and switched on the television to a college football game, turning off the sound.
Martha rose and reached for Betsy's hand. "Let's fix spaghetti for supper. Whatever we do, we have to eat." Howie followed them, muttering he needed a distraction. That left Quinn and I watching but not seeing Stanford struggling against Oregon.
"I can't believe that guy," Quinn muttered. "Holding this back is the most incredibly selfish act I've ever seen." I refused to be drawn into the discussion. My mind wasn't close to understanding the ramifications. We sat in silence for nearly an hour, each with his own thoughts. There was little sound from the kitchen as well.
I had closed my eyes when my wife snuggled next to me. Suddenly, she jumped to her feet.
"Howie! Go there!" she yelled, startling everyone. Betsy was pointing at the television as Martha and Howie came into the room.
"Where?" he asked. "A football game?"
"No! Down at the bottom of the screen. See what they're saying." It was blank. "Wait, it will come back!" In seconds a small script appeared. It was an Amber alert. Betsy read it aloud.