Page 83 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

Maya stood. “There’s no cause for unprofessionalism?—”

I spoke over her. “Oliver, I trusted you.”

He launched to his feet. “I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought with the cancer test, we’d earn enough to keep the company independent.”

My anger cooled to chilly realization. “It seems that the board doesn’t agree.” I glanced at Maya, who pursed her lips. “They’re looking for an exit strategy.”

“Something you should know all about,” she said.

“Unfortunately, I do. And I don’t want any part of this one. Consider my contract terminated.” Oliver slumped into the chair like he’d been hit with a sorcerer’s enervation spell. I towered over him. “I never want to see you again.”

He jerked his head up, his eyes creased with a plea.

The caresses, the kind words, even the sex, had all been fake, exactly like Harry. He and Maya had used me. After I’d sworn never to be used again, I’d fallen for the same tricks.

Disgusted with myself, I stormed out.

I stopped in my former office to pick up my bag and keys, but I left everything else. They could keep the cardigan I wore when the office was too cold. The prickly cactus Sadie and the rest of the endometriosis team had given me as a gift when we sent the test to trials. Even my favorite coffee mug with a drawing of a black cat on it. I could replace all those things.

What I couldn’t replace was my integrity, which I’d lost without even knowing it this time. How could I have missed the signs that Discovery was headed for a buyout? That Maya and Oliver were simply marking time until the tests were on the way to market and a buyer could swoop in, scoop up all the assets, and skip away, leaving destroyed lives behind like an old-fashioned game of jacks?

I slunk downstairs, bypassing the lab. I couldn’t look any of those people in the eye, knowing they were headed for a future where they had to train their replacements before they were laid off with a severance package that wouldn’t begin to cover the lengthy job searches ahead of them.

I kept my head down and gave Ramla, the security guard, one last pained smile as I slapped my badge on her desk. Then I walked out of the building into what I knew would be a lonely, uncertain future. Because I’d been here before.

35

Strain

Strain:A genetically distinct variety of an organism.

OLIVER

Yujun cringed as he watched me slit open the cardboard box with my pocketknife. “You know, we have people for that.”

Inside the box was the documentation, and I set it aside carefully. Shipment and customs had taken only four days, not the week or two we’d feared, and I refused to waste our luck. There would be no fuckups this time. We’d run these final tests ourselves, then we’d have enough data to present a strong regulatory filing.

I lifted out the Styrofoam case and set it on the lab table. “I know, but these are precious. Nothing can go wrong.” I poked my tongue out between my teeth as I slipped the knife into the joint and cut through the tape.

“It’s the techs’ full-time job to process samples,” he said. “They’re much less likely to slice open their palms or burn their fingertips with dry ice.”

Right. I slipped on my insulated gloves and waggled my fingers at him before I lifted the lid. A few tendrils of carbon dioxide vapor sublimated from the remaining dry ice pellets in the container. Underneath were the sealed plastic bags containing the blood vials.

“My precious,” I hissed.

Sadie plunked herself down on the stool across the table from me. “Let me help. You can read out the numbers, and I’ll catalog them.”

“Sure. Less chance I’ll make a transcription error that way. Wait.” I looked up. She’d already taken off her lab coat and replaced it with her raincoat. Her satchel was slung over her shoulder, and a thick hardcover textbook poked out of it. “It’s Thursday. You have class.”

“I’ll skip it. This is important.” She shrugged off her satchel.

“No,” I said. “School is more important. You’re a scientist, Sadie. You should have the credentials to prove it. Yujun will help me. Or I can dictate the numbers and transcribe them after.”

“I’ll help you,” Yujun said, pulling my laptop toward himself. “Go to school, Sadie. Be a scientist, not a lab rat.”

“Lab techs are equally as important as scientists,” I said. “We need everyone here.” Especially when the whole company was on the line.

“Especially when you’re doing it wrong,” Yujun grumbled. “Switch with me.” He pushed my laptop back toward me and put on his gloves before tugging the sample container toward himself.

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