Absolutely, Positively

I look like the kind of person who would claim psychic powers?”

    Molly settled back against the sofa. A thoughtful expression lit her eyes. “Sorry. Didn't mean to offend you.”

    Harry assumed his best professorial tone. “I'm a student of the history and philosophy of science.”

    “I know.”

    He gave her a hooded look. “In addition to my doctorate in that field, I have undergraduate degrees in mathematics, engineering, and philosophy.”

    She batted her lashes. “Wow.”

    Harry ground his teeth. “My background gives me insights which those who have specialized in only a single field tend to miss.”

    “Ah, yes. Insights.”

    “Exactly. As I was saying…”

    “Before you were so rudely interrupted,” she murmured.

    “To answer your question concerning my career path,” Harry plowed on steadily, “one consulting job led to another. I now do a handful every year, provided that they don't get in the way of my research and writing projects.”

    “Your research and writing are more important to you?”

    “Absolutely.”

    Molly propped one elbow on the arm of the sofa and rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “So how come you agreed to work for me? I'm sure I'm not paying you nearly as much as you can get from a contract with the government or a big corporation.”

    “No,” he agreed. “You aren't.”

    “Why, then, are you bothering to consult for the lowly little Abberwick Foundation?”

    “Because you're willing to do what government and industry won't do.”

    She tilted her head to one side. “What's that?”

    “Waste money on interesting, intriguing projects that don't have any immediate, obvious application. You're willing to invest in the unknown.”

    Her brows raised. “That's why you agreed to work for me?”

    “That's why I agreed to consult for you,” he corrected coolly.

    “Same thing.”

    “Not quite.”

    She ignored that. “Why are you so eager to fund a bunch of crazy inventors?”

    Harry hesitated and then decided to try to explain. “I've spent my entire career studying the history of scientific and technological progress.”

    “I know. I read your latest book.”

    Harry was so surprised by that revelation that he nearly choked on his tea. “You readIllusions of Certainty? ”

    “Uh-huh.” Molly grinned. “I won't pretend it was the hottest bedside reading that I've ever done, but I admit that I found it unexpectedly interesting.”

    Harry was amazed to discover that he felt flattered. He glanced at the book on the nearby shelf.

    Illusions of Certainty: Toward a New Philosophy of Sciencewas not the sort of volume that made best-seller lists. A lengthy, meticulously researched discussion of historical and societal constraints on scientific and technological progress, it was aimed squarely at the academic market. It had sold very well as a college text for students in the history of science, but it had not been meant for the average reader. Of course, Molly Abberwick was hardly average, he thought ruefully.

    “Calculated Deceptions: A History of Scientific Frauds, Swindles, and Hoaxeswas much more popular,” Harry said, striving for modesty.Calculated Deceptions had been his first stab at writing for the lay market. It had done surprisingly well.

    “I read that one, too.”

    “I see.” Harry got to his feet, embarrassed. He went to stand at the window. “Well. Thank you.”

    “Don't thank me. I was doing research on you.”

    “Research?”

    “I was trying to decide whether or not to hire you as my fraud detective.”

    Harry winced. He gazed out into the night and tried to reassemble his fragmented bits of logic. So Molly was not quite what he had expected. So there were some unplumbed depths in her. Some surprises. So what? He was thirty-six years old, but his Trevelyan reflexes were still very good. He could handle an affair with Molly, he decided.

    “Go on,” she prompted.

    “What?”

    “You were about to tell me why you're taken with the idea of funding inventions that don't offer any obvious payback.”

    Harry contemplated the night on the other side of the wall of windows. “I told you, I've made a career of studying the history of invention and discovery. In the course of that study I often find myself asking certain questions.”

    “What kind of questions?”

    “Questions such as what would have happened if Charles Babbage had gotten funding to build his analytical engine in 1833, for