A white haired man in his late 60's sat behind a mahogany desk that was cluttered with a life time of nick knacks and gift's and things collected. He drummed his fingers rhythmically while starring off in thought, pausing every now and again to stroke his short cropped white beard. He'd heard one of his interns say he had "Wise Eyes" to another employee and he was puzzling over the truth of it.

A wise eyed man would have made a wise life for himself, would have been wise in his choices. He didn't think that really applied to him. The last 40 years had been dedicated to his work; nothing and no one ever came between that. Not when his wife of 38 years died, he'd barely taken off, when his daughter's husband left her for his own sectary, he couldn't leave to help her, even though she'd been left destitute.

A wise man would have mourned his wife, would have grieved, a wise man would have taken his daughter in, proven to her not all men would leave you alone in the cold, instead of forcing her out and blaming her.

"Wise Eyes" he scoffed at the thought. Wise indeed.

A rapid knock came on his door and without waiting for a reply a young breathless man burst in holding in his hand a vanilla colored file.

"Professor," he coughed, trying to catch his breath, "It came! This came for you!"

The man reached across the desk to take the file, it would be the grant then. Finally the exploration he'd worked his whole career to mobilize had a grant, team, and sponsors, everything they needed. He would send a younger man to lead the exploration for surely a man his age had no business being on a mission like this. Besides, he'd accomplished enough now, it would be someone else who could start a new journey.

He nodded solemnly and in a slightly accented voice said, "Thank you Thomas that will be all."

The breathless man looked puzzled but took his leave.

Slowly he looked at the phone sitting on his desk, there was only one person in the world he wanted to tell, one person he wanted to share this with. A wise man would do the same. And just maybe it could be the start of a foundation for a bridge.

He typed in a number he never called but knew by heart.

A young female voice answered with a similar slight accent, "Hello?"

"Jaden, Darling, it's father, I just received word their funding my exploration."

"So, water your plants while you're away shall I?"

"No, I'm afraid it's a younger man's game, I won't be joining them. I'd rather hoped I could join you. Come out for holiday. I know I have been a disappointment as a father, but I'd really rather like to make that up to you."

There was a long pause, and then she said, "You know, I've often wondered if you'd ever make a phone call like this. In my mind I never knew really what I'd say, I just imagined you telling me you were sorry and you loved me. For so long that was all I wanted. All I needed was a father who cared. And now, you called, and here's what I have to say, you weren't there when I needed you. I got along just fine without you my entire life. I don't need you now, I don't want you now. I've had enough disappointment in my life, and honestly Daddy, I'm sure I'd just be another in yours. So thank you, and congratulations on your life's work, you should be with what you care about, what you dedicated yourself too, because it wasn't me. And I'm very sick of coming in second best."

"Jaden, my love I am so sorry…"

He was interrupted by the dead in click of her phone.

He sat back and dried his misty eyes; well he couldn't really blame her. He thought as he tried to rub away a shooting pain in his arm, he had pushed her away for so long, and like it or not she was his daughter, of course she'd reject him. Just as he did every one and every thing. He looked at the file again, this time with a smile, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself soaring through space towards the planet and the life there he'd discovered. Suddenly a shooting pain over came his heart, and blackness over came him.

Thomas, one of the professors highest students came to his office later that night, walking in he found the old man slumped over his desk with a weary smile on his face, cold. Thomas sent for the ambulance, but it was too late, the professor had died.

"What do we do now?" asked one of the sponsors, "With out him, there is no mission."

Thomas hesitated, "He has a daughter, she used to study his work and be as obsessed as he was. Before you pull your funding, let me call her. Maybe she'll do it, you know as a favor to her dad."

And with that, the second call to Jaden was made.