Sequels
"So you see, John," Gordon continued on in his teacher-like voice, "there are just as many unknowns about Earth's oceans as there are about space."
Gordon and John were having one of their frequent conversations while John was stationed on Thunderbird Five. They enjoyed talking to each other about their own areas of specialty knowledge as they usually found some common ground. For example, astronauts have some of their training in deep pools of water at the astronaut training facility. John knew about astronaut training and Gordon knew about deep pools of water, so already there was common ground.
John just agreed with Gordon. John, being older and therefore more mature (he thought), felt it was best to do this when Gordon got onto his favorite topic. There was maintenance that had to be done to Five's geostationary thrusters and John wanted to get onto it.
They said their good-byes and Gordon went into the lounge. His father was at his desk sorting through the mail that had come in a few minutes ago; true air mail as it was delivered by the Tracy Industries own mail plane.
"Hey, Gordon," Jeff said. "There's a letter for you that came by way of WASP, addressed to Mr. Gordon C. Tracy. Anything I should know about your plans with WASP for the future?"
"Dad, my plan for my future is to take this letter and go into the kitchen to get some of the pie left over from dinner last night. That's as far as I am willing to commit right now."
Gordon took the letter from his father, went into the kitchen, got his piece of pie and a glass of milk and then opened the letter. The pie never reached his mouth.
Dear Mr. Tracy,
I am a doctoral student in the field of marine farming methods in the School of Marine Farming at the University of the Pacific. During my research, I found a paper you wrote in the Journal of Marine Farming, which as you undoubtedly know is no longer published and not available on the Web. It took quite a lot of back-tracking through footnotes and abstracts to find your paper and it was well worth the effort.
I have long been interested in ways of protecting marine crops from the numerous and various forms of pests which are responsible for tremendous crop damage. I have spent time in the undersea habitat, Ocean's Pride, which, I believe, you also lived in a few years ago and I have dedicated myself to finding solutions.
We know the potential of marine farming as a way to provide plentiful and nutritional food which can alleviate the starvation which still exists in many places on Earth. So I was most excited when I finally found and read your paper.
I am writing to you to ask your permission to use some of the material and findings in your paper and build upon it. Much has been learned since you wrote it, but there are a few intriguing concepts you put forth which I think have great potential and have remained unexplored. As you know, the Journal of Marine Farming did not have a high subscription rate and it appears that your paper may not have received the attention it deserved.
I hope you don't mind that I have made this contact with you, asking to write a follow-up paper to your original. I sent this letter to you in care of WASP as I don't know your current location and couldn't find it through the usual ways. I do hope you have received it and will agree to permit me to continue along your research lines.
Thank you for your time and attention to this matter of mutual interest.
Yours truly,
Tristan Castus
Gordon sat at the kitchen table reading and re-reading the letter. He had forgotten about so much of what he had done before the Hydro-foil crash. Not forgotten as in amnesia but put behind him as he concentrated on rehabilitating his broken body and then working in International Rescue.
"Gooorrrdooonnn."
Gordon finally emerged from his reverie to see Scott sitting next to him, eating the pie from his plate and drinking the milk. And smiling widely at his aquanaut brother's staring into space.
"So, what's with the letter, Gords? Good news or bad news?" Scott queried his brother.
"Here, you can read it for yourself."
Scott took the letter with some concern as Gordon wasn't usually this serious or quiet about either good or bad news. Gordon continued to sit quietly at the kitchen table as Scott read the letter.
"Whew, what a blast from the past, eh Gordo? I mean, well, I don't know what I mean. Do you remember this paper the guy's referring to and all? I don't remember you having a paper published in a journal, other than crank letters to the editor, I mean.
Gordon looked up at Scott.
"Check out the post mark date, Scott."
The letter was post marked about a year ago.
"Wow, I wonder why it would have taken so long to get to you. WASP would have forwarded it to the address you gave which is where most of the mail sent to us as individuals or to International Rescue is sent. Considering that this fellow wrote the letter so long ago, I wonder if he thought you didn't get it or didn't care enough to reply since he obviously never got a reply from you."
Gordon got up from the kitchen table and leaned against the countertop.
"Scott, I guess it would be too much to ask if you recognize the name of the letter writer."
Scott looked at Gordon with a blank face.
Gordon sat back down at the kitchen table, taking the letter from Scott's hand.
Gordon spoke. "About three months ago there was an article in the Journal of Ocean Farming, the resurrected Journal of Marine Farming, about a new method of pest control for marine crops. It combined devices for keeping out the larger pests, such as plant-eating fish and for keeping out the microscopic pests through the use of repellants that did not harm the fish. These were specific techniques that had not been tried before. And they worked, Scott, in the experimental crop area. They worked and now the marine farming industry is really taking off, thanks to this new method of pest control."
Gordon stopped speaking for a moment as he stared at some crumbs that had dropped onto the table top.
"Go on, Gordon," Scott encouraged softly. He knew something was bothering Gordon and it had to come out.
"The man who figured this out was Tristan Castus. The article was written about his successful combining of the methods. And he was quoted as saying that although he had not gotten permission to continue the work originally proposed by Gordon C. Tracy, author of the paper from which he got his inspiration, he wanted to be sure everyone knew that what he, Castus, had accomplished could not have been possible without having read Mr. Tracy's paper."
"So this is good, Gordo. Your work led to something someone else turned into a practical solution that will now benefit millions of people all across the world."
"Yeah," replied Gordon. "But the article also went on to say that within days of the application being put into use, Mr. Castus passed away from long-term illness. He was so dedicated to this project that he would let nothing get in his way of finding the answer to the problem, not even his illness. How I wish I could have communicated with him, talked things over with him. I guess he did just fine without me but still, I wish I had gotten this letter sooner so I could have at least congratulated him on his ultimate success."
Scott put his arm around Gordon shoulders.
"Itis too bad this letter got here so late. But thank goodness this Tristan Castus had the courage to go ahead and use the concepts in your paper anyway. He was willing to accept any consequences if you surfaced later to claim the rights because he felt there was too much at stake for him to not continue with your work. He put himself on the line in order to save millions. Kinda sounds like something you would have done, and do now as part of International Rescue."
Gordon smiled at Scott.
"I suppose you're right. Hey, I know, let's start a scholarship fund. We'll name it the Tristan Castus Marine Farming Scholarship Fund. It will help others continue his work in the development of marine farming."
Scott laughed at his brother.
"Okay, let's go do that. Just be sure the first recipient isn't that swimsuit model you keep ogling every time that TV commercial for speedboats comes on."
The End