“I’m telling you: this sounds like science fiction.”

“They’re real. I’m working with them every day.”

“So, what about L.A.?”

Pia cocked her head to the side and regarded George questioningly. “What do you mean, ‘what about L.A.?’” To her, George’s comment was a total non sequitur.

“I thought you were going to L.A. to do research. You never mentioned Boulder . . .”

“Well, there was a brief period when I thought I was going to go to L.A. I had found out there was a nanotechnology company in L.A. that was interested in microbivores, but their program is still in the design stage. I applied for a research position, but then I was contacted by a head-hunter who sought me out for the company here in Boulder called Nano, which has far outpaced its competitors in molecular manufacturing.”

“You’ve lost me again. What’s molecular manufacturing?”

“It’s building nano-sized devices essentially atom by atom, molecule by molecule. It is the key to making these nanorobots. The head-hunter told me that Nano had already built some microbivore prototypes and had begun testing them in vivo. At that point it was a no-brainer for me. You’ll have to see scanning electron microscope images we have of these things. They’ll blow you away. Truly. They are incredible.”

“My mind is ready to be blown!” George said, looking at Pia, who returned his stare with more eye contact than usual. He could tell her formidable mind was in high gear. As so often happened, he worried that she could read his mind and realize how little he knew about what she was so passionate about and, if she could, the progress they seemed to be making reconnecting on a personal level would evaporate.

“I guess I’m going to learn a lot about nanotechnology.”

“Wait a second,” Pia commented. “George, you didn’t move to L.A. because I—”

“No, no, of course not.” George desperately wanted to change this particular subject. He had moved to L.A. because of Pia for sure, but at the moment he didn’t want to admit it and look weak. He knew Pia hated when he seemed weak and apologetic. “This work with microbivores must be fascinating,” he continued lamely. “Will you be able to show me what you are doing? I’d love to check it out.”

Pia continued to regard George with an intensity that made him look away.

“I really am starved,” George said, needing to say something. He rubbed his hands together nervously and changed the subject. “What about some lunch? You must be hungry yourself.”

Pia glanced over at George’s roller bag, then back to George. “Where are you intending to stay?”

“Actually, I was hoping . . . ” George said, smiling his broadest, albeit insincere smile. It had worked in the past with other women, but he feared it was wasted on Pia.

Pia closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head almost imperceptibly. “How long are you intending to stay in Boulder?”