Page 20 of Crocodile Tears
“No alien sharks, but I once had to deal with a situation involving genetically modified research animals and a very unethical biotech company.”I shrug at her horrified expression.“The world is stranger than most people realize.”
Rebecca tilts her head, curiosity overtaking her initial alarm.“What kind of genetically modified animals?”
“Let’s just say someone thought it would be clever to enhance the aggression levels of several predator species without considering the containment implications.”
Her eyes widen, and she takes a small step closer.“Please tell me this wasn’t in a populated area.”
“Small town in Montana.Population dropped from eight hundred to about fifty during the three days it took us to resolve the situation.”
“Dropped to fifty?”Rebecca’s voice rises in alarm, echoing off the nearby buildings.“Calvin, what happened to the other seven hundred and fifty people?”
“Evacuation.Very thorough, very rapid evacuation.”I pause, remembering the chaos of that particular operation.“Explaining to the local sheriff why we needed to evacuate an entire town because ofenhanced wildlifewas one of the more creative briefings I’ve ever given.”
She stares at me for a moment, processing this information with that same methodical focus she probably applies to research data.“That’s either fascinating or terrifying.”
“Definitely both.”
Rebecca resumes walking, but now she’s studying me with renewed interest.“No wonder you find disaster movies unrealistic.You’ve actually lived through scenarios that Hollywood can’t even imagine properly.”
“The real situations are usually more complicated and less dramatic than the movies.Nobody gives inspiring speeches while defusing bombs or fighting genetically enhanced predators.”I adjust our pace slightly, noting the way she processes information.“Mostly, you just try to solve the problem without getting killed.”
She laughs.“That’s weirdly reassuring.I always wondered if real dangerous situations involved more dramatic one-liners.”
“Disappointingly few one-liners, but lots of radio chatter and technical problem-solving.”
She nods thoughtfully.“That actually makes sense.When I’m dealing with a crisis in the lab, I’m not delivering speeches about the power of science.”She gestures expressively.“I’m usually swearing at equipment and trying to prevent toxic spills.”
I turn to look at her with renewed interest.“What’s the worst lab crisis you’ve handled?”
“Last month, I had a containment failure in my tissue culture incubator.”Her expression grows serious as she explains.“Seventeen different cell lines were growing in conditions that could have created some very interesting cross-contamination.”
“Interesting how?”
Rebecca’s hands move expressively as she describes the situation.“The kind of interesting that could have resulted in cellular mutations with unpredictable characteristics.I spent fourteen hours straight decontaminating and re-establishing sterile cultures.”
“Fourteen hours straight?”
“Margo brought me coffee and emergency snacks every few hours.”She grins, looking slightly embarrassed.“She’s good at recognizing when I’m in crisis management mode.”
“What kind of emergency snacks?”
Her grin becomes almost sheepish.“Raw beef strips with fresh vegetables and fruit juice.Not gourmet but effective for sustained concentration.”
I nod approvingly.“That’s actually pretty tactical.High protein, quick energy, and easy to consume without stopping work.”
She gestures between us with obvious satisfaction.“See?Scientists and security consultants have more in common than people think.”
“Speaking of things we have in common, what’s your tolerance for spicy food?”
Her grin becomes almost predatory.“I once ate an entire plate of ghost pepper wings on a dare from my graduate advisor.”She stretches her arms dramatically.“Spent two hours crying and drinking milk, but I finished every wing.”
I whistle appreciatively.“Impressive.Most people can’t handle more than one or two ghost pepper wings.”
“Reptile shifter metabolism.We process capsaicin differently than humans.”She looks at me curiously, her head tilted in that way that suggests she’s formulating a hypothesis.“What about you?”
“I can eat habaneros like candy.Gila monster biology apparently includes enhanced tolerance for spicy compounds.”
Rebecca nods as if this confirms something she suspected.“That’s useful.Most of my dates complain when I order food that’s actually hot enough to taste.”
