Page 16 of Crocodile Tears
“We’re going to help people.”Margo’s voice carries the same awe I feel.“Dr.L, your research is going to change lives.”
We spend the next hour organizing protocols and updating security measures for the expanded research.The genetic sequencing data that makes my work truly revolutionary remains in encrypted files that only Margo and I can access, but the supporting research will need to be shared with review committees and potential funding partners.
“Dr.L?”Margo says, looking up from her computer with a slightly concerned expression.“I found something weird while updating our grant database entries.”
“Weird, how?”
“Someone made an inquiry about your research through a private foundation connected to something called Vega Pharmaceuticals.”She turns her screen toward me.“The request was tagged to your research ID before the official phase two results were even announced.”
I study the screen, noting the timestamp and the vague language of the inquiry.“How did you find this?”
“I was cross-referencing our grant applications with pharmaceutical company databases to see who might be interested in licensing partnerships.”Margo shrugs with the casual air of someone who’s done nothing wrong.“I may have accessed some restricted databases in the process.”
“Margo, please tell me you didn’t hack into government systems.”
“I didn’t hack anything.I just… thoroughly researched publicly available information that happens to be stored in secure locations.”
The careful way she phrases this suggests I don’t want to know the details.“What exactly did this Vega Pharmaceuticals want to know?”
“Genetic sequencing methodologies, trial timelines, and something about ‘potential applications for enhanced human performance.’”Margo frowns at the screen.“That last part seems oddly specific for a general inquiry.”
“Enhanced human performance?”
“That’s what caught my attention.Most pharmaceutical companies ask about therapeutic applications.This feels more like… I don’t know, military research?”
The concern in her voice is probably justified, but I’m too excited about phase two approval to worry about corporate snooping.“It’s probably just opportunistic fishing.Companies monitor grant databases for promising research all the time.”
“Dr.L, they knew about your approval before you did.”
That fact is more troubling than I want to admit but not necessarily sinister.“Academic grapevines move faster than official notifications sometimes.Plus, review committees aren’t exactly secret societies.”
Margo doesn’t look convinced.“Want me to dig deeper?I could find out more about this Vega place.”
“Let’s focus on our legitimate research first.If this becomes a real concern, we’ll address it then.”I file the information away as a future problem.“Creepy, but not illegal.”
She returns to her computer, but I notice she keeps the Vega Pharmaceuticals information open in a background window.Her hacktivist instincts are probably telling her to investigate further, but I trust her to be appropriately paranoid without getting us into legal trouble.
The rest of the morning flies by in a blur of updated protocols and excited planning.The implications of phase two approval keep hitting me in waves—expanded lab space, additional research assistants, and the chance to work with human subjects rather than just theoretical models.Everything I’ve worked toward is finally becoming reality.
My celebration causes a minor disaster when I get so excited about a particularly elegant solution to a trial design problem that I accidentally trigger a partial tail shift.The appendage that appears behind me is only about two feet long, but it’s enough to sweep across my workstation and knock over my entire collection of preserved tissue samples.
Seventeen glass specimen jars hit the floor in a cascade of breaking glass and spilled preservative solutions.The various biological samples—everything from lizard skin grafts to salamander tissue cultures—scatter across the lab floor in a slippery mess of formaldehyde, ethanol, and years of careful research preparation.
“Dr.L!”Margo rushes over with an armload of absorbent pads.“Please tell me those weren’t the only samples.”
“Thankfully, no.These were backup specimens, not the primary research materials.”I grab more absorbent materials while my tail slowly retracts.“But this represents about six months of preparation work.”
“This is why we have redundant storage systems,” she says, carefully collecting the salvageable samples while avoiding the broken glass.
The cleanup takes two hours, involves careful documentation of what’s been lost, and results in a patch of lab floor that smells permanently of preservative chemicals.By the time we finish, my lab coat bears suspicious stains in multiple colors, my hair is plastered to one side with green goo, and I smell like I’ve been wrestling with a chemistry set.
“Dr.L,” says Margo carefully, “don’t you have a date tonight?”
I check my watch and discover it’s 6:30 p.m.My date with Calvin starts in thirty minutes, and I look like I’ve been involved in some kind of laboratory explosion.Which, technically, I have.
“No, no, no.”I start stripping off my ruined lab coat while mentally calculating travel time to the restaurant.“I can’t show up looking like this.”
“Emergency shower?”Margo suggests, pointing toward the chemical wash station.
