“Work is its own reward,” Zachary silently mouthed contemptuously. It had been another, similar one of his father’s dictums. “Somebody should have told that to Jonathan,” Zach added. Jonathan had been Zachary’s beloved younger brother, the one who could play baseball, and Eli’s obvious favorite, who had died in agony from bone cancer, the failed treatment proving to be even worse torture than the disease.

“No, Dad, the reward is whatever you can take, whenever you can.”

Zachary changed when Jonathan died. He’d always pushed himself, but after his brother’s demise he had become supercharged, and had started to be reckless. He left Wall Street when Jonathan had been diagnosed, and Zachary helped Jonathan run their father’s firm while Jonathan was being treated.

Unfortunately Jonathan’s aggressive cancer was not to be denied, and he died within four months. As if from a broken heart, Eli, who had developed rapid-onset dementia, followed quickly, leaving Zachary, a cynical and ambitious man, in charge of a moderately successful company that was poking along with seemingly little upside.

As a gesture of respect to his brother and his father, Zachary gave himself six months to make something of Berman Painting and Contracting, taking on the challenge at sixty miles per hour. He cut prices aggressively, hired more crews, and immersed himself in the details of the business, looking for some angle that might persuade him that it was worth his time. When Zachary found an article about the possible uses of nanotechnology in paint he almost didn’t bother to read it. Paint was paint was paint. What relevance could it have for him when he was busting a gut trying to establish a foothold over the competition in northern New Jersey?

But Zach did read the article, particularly a section about research into the use of carbon nanotubes in paint that could block cell phone signals in a concert hall. He read the piece again and quickly went on to read all he could find on nanotechnology. Zach was convinced this was fertile ground that was virtually unexplored and certainly underexploited. There was so much about nanotechnology that he didn’t understand, but the potential was obvious, exciting, and challenging. In college he’d steered clear of chemistry, math, physics, and even biology. He now regretted it. He had a lot to learn, and he applied himself with the zeal of a starving man having stumbled into a grocery store.

Within weeks, he had sold the business at a healthy profit and given all the proceeds to Jonathan’s widow, and with that he felt he had fulfilled his obligation to his brother’s family. When his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s some months later, and Zachary realized nanotechnology might possibly offer some hope, he felt thoroughly vindicated. Suddenly he was consumed by the promise of nanotechnology in the medical realm. What if he could cure bone cancer as a fitting tribute to his late brother? And what about his mother? Could he help her? Why not? With nanotechnology the sky was the limit.