Another little barb Milo fired off with delight. As much as Devon relied on his father to get a leg up in the world of science—or perhapsbecause—he hated it when his connections were mentioned, even though it was obvious to everybody on campus why he had gotten an offer to research and teach at all. Spoiler, it wasn’t his scientific acumen that had earned him the honor.
“You have funding you didn’t declare to MIT?” Between the sputtering and indignance, there was a spark of glee. Devon no doubt hoped to compromise Milo.
“Who said I didn’t declare it? It’s confidential, so the dean kept it that way.” This was definitely stretching the truth, to the point where it was as transparent as the dough for a VienneseApfelstrudeland in danger of ripping at any moment. Though if there was one thing Milo had learned from the supernatural creatures he spent most of his time with, it was that living on the edge was always worth it. At least in hindsight, after a few years had passed, the dust had settled, and the buildings were rebuilt. Enjoying the sheer outrage on Devon’s face because there were things not even his daddy’s money could make him privy to, was definitely already worth it, even if Milo might have to avoid the man if he didn’t get the funding from SBW before Devon went off to the Bahamas.
“I don’t believe you! There’s no way,no way, anybody would waste money on your stupid ideas!” Devon was poking holes into the air a few inches from Milo’s face. Careful testing had shown he wouldn’t come closer, physical violence apparently the one line he never crossed, the only redeeming quality Milo could see in the blubbering idiot.
“You don’t even know what mystupid ideasare about! So how would you determine if anybody saw them as promising!”
Devon’s mouth opened and closed a few times. He was clearly at a loss for words, which didn’t happen often. Milo savored the silence, which was only sweetly enhanced by the gurgling sounds coming from his nemesis’ throat. Sadly, he regained his speech all too quick. “Fine, then I won’t ask you to come to the Bahamas with me to do some research there.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the lab, slamming the door closed, and leaving Milo completely stunned.
“What just happened?”
* * * *
The next day brought a small measure of relief because Milo’s mother called, telling him there was an official-looking letter with a wax seal in the mail.
“Can you open it for me, Mom?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. It looks so important.” His mother was hesitant, and Milo understood. Her illness had come not only with countless visits to doctors, so many different medicines Milo’s head still spun just thinking about them, and serious effects on her daily life because she was often too tired to get up, but also with a flood of official-looking letters which rarely contained anything good. Even more than her son, she had started dreading those letters.
“This is the good kind of official, I think. It tells me if I have a chance at funding.”
“And if it says you don’t? Then it’s not a good letter.”
Milo had to give it to his mom, her logic was sound, though not entirely appreciated at the moment.
“Yes, I’d be sad if it says I won’t get it, but if it says I have a chance, I’d be very happy, and I could use some happy today.”
“Oh, sweetie, is that Devon boy harassing you again? Or is it your research? Are the wee ones not playing along?”
To his mother, his nanobots were the wee ones. Milo didn’t know how she had come up with the term because they had not a drop of Scottish blood in their family. He suspected it had come from one of her romance novels. She had an entire series with strapping men in kilts on the covers.
“The wee ones are a bit obstinate, and Devon has been an ass, though different than usual and yes, good news would be nice.”
“Fine, I’ll open it.”
Milo heard paper tearing. A moment’s silence, followed by a soft gasp. Milo’s heart sank.
“Oh.”
His heart sank further. “Mom?”
“Uhm, it’s a bit…elaborate, this letter.”
“Mom! Is it good or bad?”
“Good, I think. Wait, I’ll read it to you.” She cleared her throat. “Dear Dr. Abber—how nice, they’re addressing you with your title. I’m so proud of you, Milo, or should I sayDr. Abber?”
The smile evident in his mother’s voice was the only thing keeping Milo from barking at her. His nerves were as tight as piano wires, and he felt his stomach gurgling in warning.
Perhaps she felt his impatience through the connection, because his mother kept on reading. “Dear Dr. Abber, we are very pleased to inform you that our board members have decided to include you in our list of potential candidates for funding. You will now start the process of submittance for which you will have three weeks’ time. Once we have the documents of all candidates, the first round of screening will begin. You can expect information about your passing or lack thereof ten days after you submitted everything. All further information is attached to the email that will be sent out shortly. We congratulate you on successfully entering the first round of our in-depths tests to determine worthy recipients forour invaluable support. Most sincerely, Beverly Nyx, founding member ofSBW.
“Wow, Milo. This is good news, isn’t it?” His mother’s excited tone distracted Milo from the snootiness of the letter.
“Yes, Mom, that’s very good news. Thank you for reading the letter to me. I think I’ll better start working on those papers they’re asking for.”
“Yes, you do that, my smart boy. Good luck! Love you.”
