The Walls Of The Universe Part 34

"They will," John said. "Paquelli is grasping at straws and the city thing will be cleared up next week."

"But orders are down," Visgrath said. "And time is short for you."

"Are you interested or not?" John asked.

"We are."

"On what terms?"

"For fifty-five percent of the stock of the company, we will give you capital of two million dollars," Visgrath said.

Two million!

"Hold on," John said. He set the phone down on the back of the couch and motioned Grace and Henry over. "He's offering two million for fifty-five percent of the company."

"That's a majority," Henry said loudly.

John shushed him. "But two million is huge!"

"We could do everything we wanted," Grace said.

"But we're giving up owners.h.i.+p."

John realized Henry was right. He picked up the phone.

"We don't want to give up owners.h.i.+p," John said.

"That's not negotiable," Visgrath said.

"Why not?"

"Look at it from our perspective," he said. "We are investing a huge amount of cash in a company run by three teens without college degrees. We must maintain control of the company in case the situation deteriorates."

It made sense, but John was reluctant.

"I don't know."

"We have no interest in running the day-to-day aspects of the corporation," Visgrath said. "You have shown remarkable capability so far, but we must have a.s.surances, and a minority share for us is not any a.s.surance."

"We'll want more cash," John said.

"We're willing to raise our offer to four million, but no more."

John raised his eyebrows. "We'll have to think about it."

"Of course. I'd expect no less." Visgrath cleared his throat. He seemed suddenly distracted. "You have my number. Of course, the sooner the better, for you as well as me. Money makes a lot of problems disappear. Good-bye."

John hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Grace demanded.

"You spoke with him," John said. "Visgrath. Ermanaric Visgrath. He was at one of the tournaments. You sent him my way, and he gave me his card."

"Yeah, just to get rid of him," Grace said.

"What kind of name is that?" Henry muttered. "Visgrath."

"We're not taking any offer!" John shouted. "We're just looking at options. We can walk away, we can fight city hall on a shoestring budget, or we can take their four million and hire the big guns."

"Four million!"

"It was just two million," Grace said.

"The fifty-five percent is nonnegotiable," John said. "But the cash part wasn't."

Grace sat down on the couch heavily. Her shoulders sagged. "This is all too much in one day. Too much." Her eyes were still bloodshot. John almost went over to her, but he recalled suddenly the drunken revelation of her feelings. And before he did, Henry took a step, stopped, then stepped toward her to place a hand on her shoulder. Grace suddenly sobbed and grabbed his hand.

"What should we do?" she said, her voice breaking.

John shrugged heavy shoulders. "I dunno."

Henry just shook his head.

"I don't-," John started to say. He stopped, swallowing. "I don't want to lose it all. And if that means asking for help from, from... professionals, so be it. We're just kids. We don't know how to run a company. Ermanaric Visgrath does. So they want something in return. So be it. But we've gone from nothing to four million dollars in four months."

"So you want to do it," Grace said.

"I don't want to lose it."

"I don't either!" Grace cried. "But... but..."

They were silent for a while. Finally, Henry said, "Let's do it."

"What?" Grace said.

"How often does a chance like this come along?" he said. Grace shook off his hand. A stricken look pa.s.sed across Henry's face, but he continued, "Four million dollars to build a company. We can do... everything we want to do."

Grace grabbed her coat.

"Fine," she said.

"I'll drive you home," Henry said.

"No, I want to walk," she said. The door slammed behind her.

John shrugged his shoulders. "I'll call him tomorrow and arrange it."

"It's like this," Kyle said. "You have three people on the board, and they have four. They can fire Grace as CEO any time they want and elect one of themselves to the position. But the day-to-day stuff they aren't involved in."

John and Henry were in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the law building again, where Kyle was examining the investment agreement Ermanaric Visgrath had sent over. Again the Bench was filled with law students. John wasn't sure if they ever took a break.

"So they ultimately control it all," Henry said.

"No, they control fifty-five percent," Kyle said. "All that means is that if they wanted to if they wanted to they could force a new chairman of the board and a new CEO. You see, investment companies like this don't want to run your company if it's doing well. They want to make money. But they want the rea.s.surance that if you screw it up, they can step in and take over." they could force a new chairman of the board and a new CEO. You see, investment companies like this don't want to run your company if it's doing well. They want to make money. But they want the rea.s.surance that if you screw it up, they can step in and take over."

"That's why they won't budge on fifty-five percent," John said.

"Exactly."

"So," John said. He glanced at Henry, who shrugged. "So, what do we do?" John finally said.

"John, you know I can't offer legal advice," Kyle said.

"Yeah, but what do we do?" Henry said. He sounded as desperate as John felt.

Kyle sighed. "There's nothing in here that looks outrageous," he said. "And..."

"And?"

"And it's four million dollars. Jeez!"

"We know," Henry said.

"We're conflicted," John added.

"You should be." Kyle wrote down a number and a name. "Professor Andropov, in the business department. He taught our business contracts cla.s.s. Ask him to look at it."

"A Russian?" Henry said.

"If you want a balanced opinion on Capitalism," Kyle said, "ask an Americanized Russian."

Andropov was a bespectacled man in a tweed coat. His office was lined with tomes, in Cyrillic and English.

"Here," he said. He handed the contract to John. It was marked heavily with red ink.

Henry looked over John's shoulder. "Are there any words left from the original?"

Two hours before, Professor Andropov had listened to their story with a blank face. John was certain he didn't care at all.

"In four months, you have gone from prototype to moneymaking venture?" he asked.

"Some money," John said.

"In quarters," Henry added.

"And now you have an offer for four million for majority owners.h.i.+p."

"Yes," John said.

"And we don't know what to do," Henry said.

"Why should you? You are engineers," Andropov said. "But engineers can do well in business." He took the contract. "I'll read it. Come back in two hours."

"Did it suck?" John asked, flipping through the pages.

"No, pretty good," Andropov said. He pulled a sandwich from his desk drawer. It was dark outside; John and Henry had spent all day in the law school and the business school. "Some weak language. One bad enc.u.mbrance. Otherwise, it's okay." He took a bite of his sandwich. "Oh, someone other than an American wrote this."

"What?"

"The syntax is off in places," Professor Andropov said. "Grammar is correct, but phrasing is odd." He shrugged. "No big deal."

"They asked for fifty-five percent," John said. "Is that too much?"

"For four million, they should have asked for ninety percent," Andropov said with a laugh, the first John had seen from him. "It's a good deal."

"So we should take it?" Henry asked.

"That I can't answer," Andropov said. "But think of this. You made one company in three months. If this doesn't work out, you can just make another one."

On New Year's Eve, John, Grace, and Henry sat at John's table. The revised contract lay before them. Ermanaric Visgrath's legal team had accepted nearly all of Andropov's changes. A ballpoint pen sat atop the fresh contract.