Chương 37: Book 2 - Chapter 9 A

I slept until 11am. When I woke I stumbled into the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Mom greeted cheerily.

"There's orange juice at the table. Go sit, I'll bring you bacon and waffles in a moment." I ate silently, enjoying the food. The exhaustion was better. I had pushed myself because everything hinged on getting this one material created before the second semester started. After stuffing myself I sprawled out on the couch in the family area.

"I let you push yourself, because I want you to learn to take it easy," Mom said, looking down at my limp form.

"Other than giving a tour of your lab, no work today. Also Matt wants to talk to you." I went to shower and get dressed. I walked down the hall to Matt's two-bedroom apartment. He had the unit next to ours. I knocked on the door, and he answered.

"Hi Boss. How would you like to go to the gun range tomorrow?" he said with a smile.

"Sounds cold, but sure. I don't think Mom will let me work in the lab for a while," I told him.

"Yup. School's about to start again and she's banned you from the lab except Sundays. I'm required to take you somewhere outside on any Saturday you don't have homework to do."

"Well the gun range sounds better all the time," I said.

"I still have that airplane I never built. Maybe we can do that."

"You'll have to tell me more about that later. I think Dr Thompson just drove up," he said, glancing at the TV in his room that showed exterior camera views of the hotel.

"Let's go down and greet him," I said. We met him at the lobby door. He looked around in appreciation. The lobby restoration had been completed, and building workmen now came through the basement garage so they didn't trash the lobby.

"This is a beautiful restoration. I actually came here as a kid, and it looks really good," he told us.

"Dr Thompson, this is Matt Preston. He's my bodyguard and driver."

"I've seen you on campus. It's nice to meet you," he said, shaking Matt's hand.

"We live on the fifteenth floor. Come on up, my Mom is waiting for you. I hope your hungry for lunch," I told him. We arrived just in time, as Dad and Grandpa had just arrived for lunch with us. Mom and Grandma were busy working together. We all sat around the table talking. Mom served us lasagna, one of my favorites.

"Oh, Mary, this is divine," Grandma said, taking a first bite.

"The best lasagna in Oklahoma, hands down."

"It really is spectacular, Mom," I added, digging in.

"It is, dear," Dad agreed.

"You certainly haven't lost your touch." Mom smiled warmly.

"Thank you all. It's nice to cook for a full table. I am sorry about the mess, Dr Thompson, but we're still mid-renovation." Dr Thompson waved a fork, still savoring the bite.

"Please, call me Dean. Not because I'm Dean of Admissions. It's my first name. And don't apologize—it's remarkable. I said it downstairs, but the truth is, the restoration work you've done in the lobby is genuinely beautiful."

"It should be," Grandpa boomed, setting down his wine glass.

"This isn't some new box hotel. This is The Mayo Hotel. It was the height of luxury when it opened."

"Dean, you mentioned you came here as a kid?" I asked.

"I did," Dean said, nodding.

"My father was a lawyer in Tulsa, and he was invited to a large function here in the late '50s. I was probably John's age. I remember being overwhelmed by the scale of the lobby. The beautiful chandeliers in the ballroom. The brasswork on those elevator doors—which I see you've perfectly restored—was just gleaming. It felt like stepping into an old movie. I didn't think anyone could bring it back to that level."

"That's exactly what our Architect insisted on," Dad said, proudly.

"Every detail had to be historically accurate, down to the moldings. He put in a tremendous amount of effort just on the blueprints." Grandma, who had been quietly eating, added, "It takes a lot of effort to keep it looking this good, too. The hardest part lately has been managing the construction traffic. We finally re-routed all the building workmen to use the freight elevator and basement garage exclusively, so they don't drag mud across that restored terrazzo floor in the lobby."

"The effort is clearly paying off."

"It's a huge undertaking, especially preserving the structural integrity while modernizing the utilities," Dad offered, taking a sip of water.

"Replacing the plumbing and wiring in a building this old while keeping the historic architecture intact is probably more complex than building a skyscraper from scratch." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Grandpa nodded sagely.

"When you're dealing with history, you have to be respectful. This is just the first hotel we'll bring back to life. That respect will be a core principle going forward."

"Beth and Mary are managing the decorating and design throughout beautifully," Grandpa added, looking the two women.

"Well, it takes a team," Mom said modestly.

"But we're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel now. Just a few more months before we can finally welcome our first guests." Eventually, the plates were cleared, and the conversation turned to other topics for a brief moment, before Dean glanced at his watch. Lunch finished, and I stood.

"Dean, thank you for coming. I have a product to show you that I created in my personal lab upstairs. I have been working on it all winter break."

"I was glad to be invited for such a wonderful lunch. The mysterious reveal is just the dessert I need," he said.

"Thank you, Dean. This is graphene felt. It's made of various sized flakes of pure two-dimensional carbon," I said, and seeing his confusion I clarified.

"The carbon is in monatomic layers. That is, it is made up of layers a single atom thick." I saw he seemed to understand so I continued.

"The result when the flakes are combined is this felt," I told him, handing it to him.

"This particular configuration uses flakes that are about 3mm wide. The created felt has several distinctive properties. It is permeable to small molecule gases and water, but no other liquids. I'll demonstrate." I handed him an unopened bottle of Maker's Mark and provided instructions.

"Please open the bottle, tightly hold the felt over the mouth and pour the contents into a cup." He followed my directions until it stopped pouring out. I explained, "Because this whiskey is 90 proof, the 45% that remains is the alcohol. You poured out the water, as it could pass through the felt. The flavor, the alcohol and everything else remains in the bottle. Please test the liquid in the cup." He carefully tasted it.

"Tastes like water."

"Please carefully test the liquid in the bottle," I instructed.

"Very strong whiskey," he said after the taste.

"Though I'm not sure if it's better."

"For the second demonstration, please pour yourself a cup of water. Here is the salt, please verify that it is salt." He put some salt on a finger and tasted it.

"Now pour salt into the water, as much as you want. Be sure to make it very salty." I watched as he poured most of the salt into the glass. I handed him a spoon and he stirred it.

"It's like I'm back in Chemistry," he joked.

"Now take this empty cup and use the felt to make a filter basket, like coffee makers have. Pour most of the salt water into the filter."

"It goes right through doesn't it," he commented.

"As you can see the salt is filling the felt filter. Set the filter to the side. That bowl will do." I watched as he completed the demonstration.

"Please test the filtered water, and then test the unfiltered water." He sipped the filtered water and nodded, then tasted the salty water and immediately made a face.

"A very impressive show, John."

"Thank you. Do you understand why you were invited here today?" I asked him.

"Yes, you have an invention, and in your scholarship agreement the school gets 10% ownership of any patent created while you are a student."

"I'm a student even when between semesters, correct?"

"You are a student until such time as you graduate, transfer to another school or thirty days after you leave the University and withdraw from the agreement," he stated.

"That's what I thought. I think a hyper-efficient water filter would be very useful, even a lucrative item."

"I agree, John, millions, maybe billions a year," he said with a firm nod and a serious face.

"Then I need patent protection."

"You very much need patent protection," he agreed.

"This material, graphene felt, takes several steps to create. Each of those steps I believe is separately patentable. One of the steps is a novel method of separating carbon from oxygen. It works with both carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide. The result is pure carbon monatomic flakes, a form of carbon I call graphene.

"I'm still investigating the sizes I can produce, and what properties the felt has with larger and smaller flakes."

"Who do you think can manufacturer the felt?"

"I would like to take it to Corning. There is a baking process and a few other steps I think they could easily turn into industrial scale processes."

"What is the input of the carbon oxygen separation process," he asked.

"This novel process uses a metallic catalyst in room temperature gaseous carbon dioxide or carbon monoxide and about fifteen watt-hours of electricity per liter of gas converted."

"I've heard enough," he said, coming to a decision.

"I'll call our patent attorneys and have them get with you. Expect to be busy with them all day Monday. You can catch up on classes later."

"I don't have classes on Tuesdays this semester. This can wait till then," I told him, getting a smile from Mom.

"That will do," he said, acquiescing to my decision and Moms immediate smile.

"It will give me time to talk to the patent department as well and stress the importance of these patents." He looked around, considering the people in the room.

"Well, John," his eyes stopping at me.

"How about a tour of this personal lab where you made this amazing material."

"No." I said clearly.

"I'm sorry, but no one goes up there until I have patent protections in place." He seemed disappointed.

"I understand. I understand. It's a very valuable thing and it needs to be protected."

"Once we get the patents filed, then that changes." He nodded.

"I'll make sure that gets moving and that they are ready for you on Tuesday." He took a deep breath and looked at the rest of my family that had been watching quietly.

"This is a truly lovely home you've created here. I'd love to stay longer and explore the work you've done so far, but I really must be going," Dr Thompson said. Matt stood and walked him out. Once the elevator doors closed Mom turned to me.

"I want a tour," she said.

"When Matt gets back, I'll show you and everybody else."