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matter. I have it in my computer and I have to be on the same side of the screen as you."
    "Okay, I guess that's fine, then." Cable rolled his chair to the side to allow Sam room on the same side of the desk.
    That's one , Sam thought. He moved his chair, sat down beside Cable, and opened the notebook computer.
    "Well, Mr. Cable, it looks like we can set this whole thing up without any more than a physical for you and Frank."
    "Whoa!" Cable brought his hands up in protest. "We haven't agreed on this yet."
    "Oh," Sam said. "Frank gave me the impression that the decision had been made – that this was just a meeting to confirm the tax status and pension benefits of the policy."
    "I didn't know there were pension benefits."
    "That's why I'm here," Sam said. It wasn't why he was there at all. "To explain them to you."
    "Well, Frank and I haven't gotten down to any specifics on this. I'm not sure it's a good idea at all."
    Sam needed misdirection. He launched into the presentation like a pit bull/Willy Loman crossbreed. As he spoke, the computer screen supported his statements with charts, graphs, and projections. Every five seconds a message flashed across the screen faster than the eye could see, but not so fast that it could not nibble on the lobes of the subconscious like a teasing lover. The message was: BE SMART, BUY THIS . Sam had designed the program himself. The BE SMART part of the message could be modified for each client. The options were: BE SEXY, BE YOUNG, BE BEAUTIFUL, BE THIN, BE TALL, and Sam's personal favorite, BE GOD . He'd come up with the idea one night while watching a commercial in which six heavily muscled guys got to run around on the beach impressing beautiful women presumably because they drank light beer. BE A STUD, DRINK LIGHT.
    Sam finished his presentation and stopped talking abruptly, feeling that he had somehow forgotten something. He waited, letting the silence become uncomfortable, letting the conversation lay on the desk before them like a dead cat, letting the diver come to the correct conclusion. The first one to speak loses. Sam knew it. He sensed that Cable knew it.
    Finally, Jim Cable said, "This is a great little computer you have. Would you consider selling it?"
    Sam was thrown. "But what about the policy?"
    "I don't think it's a good idea," Cable said. "But I really like this computer. I think it would be smart to buy it."
    "Smart?" Sam said.
    "Yeah, I just think it would be a smart thing to do."
    So much for subliminal advertising. Sam made a mental note to change his message to: BE SMART, BUY THE POLICY . "Look, Jim, you can get a computer like this in a dozen stores in town, but this partnership policy is set up for right now. You are never going to be younger, you'll never be in better health, the premium will never be lower or the tax advantage better."
    "But I don't need it. My family is taken care of and I don't care who takes control of the company after I'm dead. If Frank wants to take a policy out on me I'll take the physical, but I'm not betting against myself on this."
    There it was. Cable was not afraid and Sam knew no way to instill the fear he needed. He had read that Cable had survived several diving accidents and even a helicopter crash while being shuttled to one of the offshore rigs. If he hadn't glimpsed his mortality before, then nothing Sam could say would put the Reaper in his shaving mirror. It was time to walk away and salvage half of the deal with Cable's partner.
    Sam stood and closed the screen on the computer. "Well, Jim, I'll talk to Frank about the specifics of the policy and set up the appointment for the physical."
    They shook hands and Sam left the office trying to analyze what had gone wrong. Again and again the fear factor came up. Why couldn't he find and touch that place in Jim Cable? Granted, his concentration had been shot by the morning's events. Really, he'd done a canned presentation to cover himself. But to cover what? This was a clean deal,