Zero Point Read Online Free PDF Page A

a relationship with since losing Mom , Turner thought. God knows, he needs someone in his life .
    Turner had been there when Professor Eli Turner had met Abigail Conger at a dinner function for the preservation of ancient artifacts last year in Washington, D.C. They were immediately attracted to each other, which surprised Josh, seeing his father left little room in his life for anything, or anyone.
    Abby was assistant to the Under Secretary of State for Arms Control and International Security at the State Department. Another one married to their work, never finding time to settle down with anyone, Turner mused as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
    Paulo arrived on time as usual, and the two headed off to the restaurant located in the old town near the harbor district. They passed colorfully decorated shops and storefronts amidst the celebration of Dia de Santiago Apostol, the annual festival honoring their patron saint, and the town’s defeat of the English.
    Paulo and Turner made their way through the busy streets of Santa Cruz, bypassing one of the many festival parades marching down toward the Plaza de Espana. The participants of the parade were dressed in brightly colored costumes, the custom for the island’s numerous festivals held throughout the year. There was dancing to the festive rhythms of music provided by live bands along the Plaza .
    They turned onto Calle de la Marini Street and drove for another five minutes along the harbor before turning into the parking lot of the Cofradia de Pescadores restaurant.
    The restaurant was one of the few out of the way establishments frequented by locals more often than the many tourists, who came to enjoy the mild, summer climate of the Canaries.
    They made their way through the modest entrance of the restaurant and found the interior filled with the sounds of joviality. The intoxicating aroma of fine food drifted through the room, mingled with the soft clinking sound of silverware and muffled discussions in Spanish and English.
    The smartly dressed waiters hurried about, serving their sizzling hot entrees to the delight of their patrons seated at spacious round custom-made tables. Each table was specially designed with its own distinct colorful pattern tablecloth, and accented with large high-backed cushioned chairs.
    Turner was approached by a young host, who asked if they required a table.
    “We are here to dine with Professors Turner and Santiago. Have they arrived yet?” he asked the host in fluent Spanish.
    “Si’, Señor. They are seated and awaiting your arrival,” the host replied as he motioned them toward a table in the upper level of the restaurant at the rear of the establishment. 
    “Hello, Josh, my old friend!” a voice boomed from the end table.
    Professor Carlos Santiago was a commanding figure of a man, standing at six feet tall with a broad smile hidden behind a thick goatee. He was wearing his traditional white cotton suit and checkered bow tie, which had become his trademark at the university.
    Santiago was something of a legend at San Fernando University. He possessed a jovial spirit, and kindness to his staff and students. When he wanted something done, however, he exhibited all the tenacity and gracefulness of a rogue elephant on a rampage.
    “Good evening, Carlos,” Turner said as he and Paulo sat down at the table. “Hello, Dad,” he added to his father, who was seated next to Carlos.
    “Hello, Son. Was your trip to the states successful?” Eli Turner said, cutting right to business.
    “It was, Dad,” Turner replied, a bit annoyed by the question. “I sent you an email with all the particulars. Here,” he said, handing the bag with the pipe and tobacco to his father. “I picked this up for you in Washington, D.C.Abby told me where to find it.”
    “Thanks, Son,” the elder Turner said, lifting out his new pipe. “I broke the stem on the old one.”
    “I hope you don’t mind that we mix business with pleasure this