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destroyed. Five months ago, Dr. Detlev Zurmegeda was murdered on a street in Kiev. Less than three months ago, Dr. Mark Phillips was murdered in London, poisoned by ricin.” Jim paused, eyes locked with the professor’s.
    Professor Savage did not convey any emotion as he spoke. “And the common thread is?”
    â€œThe common thread is that all these people were distinguished researchers in the field of abiogenic oil formation. Also, within the last three months, 45 delegates were murdered in Caracas at the Hedberg conference. Many of those killed were Americans.”
    Professor Savage pushed away from the table and walked toward the office door. For a second Jim thought he was leaving, but he stopped at the chromed percolator and poured a cup of steaming coffee. “Would either of you care for some coffee?” His gaze remained fixed on the cup he was pouring as he asked the question.
    Jim looked to Peter for support; it was becoming clear that his message was not getting through.
    â€œDad, this is serious.”
    Professor Savage lifted the cup and sipped, still not making eye contact with Jim. “I knew some of those people; several were my colleagues and friends years ago.”
    He walked back to the conference table and sat down again. “But that’s not my field of work. Those other people were all petroleum scientists. I still fail to see a connection.”
    And then almost as an afterthought, Professor Savage added, “How did you find out about my work? As I said, it’s not widely published, and I wouldn’t expect that someone interested in petroleum science would come across my research.”
    â€œI have excellent resources. It took my lead analyst less than a day to complete an assessment of your research, along with that of Professor Sato, and make the connection to the other researchers. If my team can do it, so might someone else.”
    Peter joined in. “Dad, I thought your research had something to do with geochemistry and petroleum. You’re saying it’s not. So what exactly is your field of study?”
    â€œPut simply, the geochemistry of planetary moons.”
    Peter was surprised. He realized how little he actually knew of his father’s work and regretted not staying better informed. Although their relationship was cordial, there was no room for professional conversation. Ian Savage had always wanted his son to pursue an academic career, something which Peter had no interest in, preferring to be engaged in more practical aspects of science and engineering, including an interest in business.
    The arguments always seemed to start innocently enough. A query about how work was going, a comment regarding a recent grant award. In Peter’s mind his father was constantly looking for the slightest opening to belittle his profession and elevate academic research as the only noble and deserving pursuit of science. Finally, after a particularly heated argument over dinner one night, father and son reached an unspoken truce. That was two decades ago and Peter realized he had grown very effective at visiting with his father while completely avoiding even the slightest hint of what was going on in their professional lives.
    Professor Savage saw the look of surprise on his son’s face and continued to explain. “As you know, I’m a chemical engineer by education and training.” He shrugged, and Peter wondered if his father was brushing away the same uncomfortable memories before he continued.
    â€œI picked up some geology and geochemistry along the way but more like a hobby. Anyway, I became interested in understanding geochemical mechanisms for the formation of hydrocarbons. In particular, I’m trying to understand how Saturn’s moon Titan could be literally covered in seas of liquid methane with islands of solid hydrocarbons scattered throughout. It appears to be a scientific oddity.
    â€œNASA has funded much of my