I met him in that ancient town.

An American whose startup supplies machines that keep people breathing. Alive. Real machines, for real people.

We somehow drifted into a conversation about satellites built by the world’s richest man. Paper. Just paper he said. “A meme.”

He looked down the street — stone, a thousand years of it, people still walking on it. On well worn paths.

“You can’t buy this even with all the money in the world,” he said. I was unsure what he meant exactly. What this he was referring to.

“What is most valuable are the relationships….”