Entering the cottage, she was pleasantly surprised. The atmosphere had improved. It still wasn’t a joyous gathering by any stretch of the imagination, but it was less strained. In her absence the wine and beer had been opened and drunk with more gusto than she’d expected. She was glad she’d bought as much as she had.
Everyone was sitting in the parlor, grouped around the trestle table, with the portrait of Elizabeth staring down at them. Kim nodded to those who looked in her direction and proceeded directly into the kitchen. She washed the fish and put it on a platter next to the meat.
With her own glass of wine in her hand, Kim walked back to the parlor. Stanton had stood up while she’d been in the kitchen and given everyone a handout. He was now standing in front of the fireplace, directly below the portrait.
“What you are looking at is a forecast of how quickly we will run out of money at the present burn-rate,” he said. “Obviously that’s not a good situation. Thus I need some idea when each of you will get to various milestones in order to best advise how to raise more capital. There are three choices: go public, which I doubt would work, at least not to our advantage until we have something to sell-”
“But we do have something to sell!” Edward interrupted. “We’ve got the most promising drug since the advent of antibiotics, thanks to the Missus.” Edward raised his beer bottle to Elizabeth’s portrait. “I’d like to make a toast to the woman who may yet become Salem’s most famous witch.”
Everyone except Kim raised their drinks. Even Stanton joined after getting his beer from where he’d placed it on the end of the mantel. After a moment of silence they all drank eagerly.
Kim squirmed uncomfortably, half expecting Elizabeth’s expression in the portrait to change. She felt Edward’s comments were disrespectful and in bad taste. Kim wondered how Elizabeth would feel if she were there to see these talented people maneuvering for personal gain in her house from a discovery related to her misfortune and untimely death.
“I’m not denying we have a potential product,” Stanton said after putting his beer back down. “We all know that. But we don’t have a currently marketable product. So trust me, in the current economic climate, it is not the time for a public offering. What we could do is a private offering, which has the benefit of less loss of control. The last alternative is to approach additional venture capitalists. Of course this approach would require the most sacrifice of stock and hence equity. In fact we’d have to dilute what we already hold.”
A murmur of dissatisfaction arose from the researchers.
“I don’t want to give away any more stock,” Edward said. “It’s going to be too valuable when Ultra hits the market. Why can’t we just borrow the money?”
“We don’t have any collateral to secure such a loan,” Stanton said. “Borrowing the kind of money we’ll need without collateral means paying exorbitant interest since it will not come from the usual sources. And since it’s not from the usual sources, the people you have to deal with don’t allow any hiding behind a corporate shield should things go sour. Do you understand what I’m saying, Edward?”
“I get the drift,” Edward said. “But investigate the possibility anyway. Let’s not leave any stone unturned that would avoid giving up any more equity. It would be a shame, because Ultra is such a sure thing.”
“Are you as confident of that as you were when we formed the company?” Stanton asked.
“More so,” Edward said. “Every day I’m more convinced. Things are going very well, and if they continue as they are we might be in a position to file an IND-an Investigative New Drug application-within six to eight months, which is far different than the usual three and a half years.”
“The faster you move, the better the financial situation becomes,” Stanton said. “It would be even better if you could pick up the pace.”
Eleanor let out a short, derisive laugh.
“We are all working at maximum velocity,” François said.