Dr. Torres almost didn’t respond, but as she grabbed the dish, she turned to face her assistant. “Come on, Charlie, you know the rules. This one isn’t company sanctioned, so there’s no way we’re doing that.”
“Yeah, but don’t they encourage us to take on private jobs?”
“They do, but only if they can maintain the standpoint of plausible deniability for any of their scientists’ clients’ work,” Dr. Torres answered.
Charlie frowned. “Seems like a backwards way of doing business, in my opinion.”
Dr. Torres sighed. “Well, in my opinion, it seems like a good way for them to stay out of trouble. You and I both know that there’s enough non-sanctioned work going on here that’s ended in all but disaster. One of those leaks, and we’ve got incriminating evidence on our hands. For all of us.” Dr. Torres gave Charlie a look that was supposed to mean the conversation was over, but Charlie continued.
“I get it. The company won’t take credit for anything unless it ends in dollar signs for them.”
“Welcome to America, Charlie.”
Charlie let the insult slide. He had been raised in Idaho, and had lived in just about every small town anyone from Idaho had ever heard of. Hope, Irwin, Twin Falls, and his parents now lived in Mud Lake. Now that he worked in Twin Falls, it seemed like Charlie was going to spend the rest of his life inside the borders of his home state.
He’d grown up like most normal American boys. Street hockey in the summer, pond hockey in the winter, with other random sports thrown in during the off-season. He was of average build, not tall but not short either, making him an ideal candidate to fill out a team roster for just about any sport he tried out for.
Much to his father’s dismay, however, sports were not Charlie’s strong suit. Before football practice and after school during the fall semesters, Charlie spent his time in the science club at his local high school. What his parents thought — and hoped — would be a temporary, fleeting interest, turned out to be a career choice for the young man. He enrolled in night classes at the local university while only a junior in high school, convincing his parents that it would be good for his future. While it was certainly useful later in life, the truth of the matter was that Charlie was actually just interested in studying robotics, something his local high school did not have a program for.
He ditched the robotics studies after his first semester in college, opting instead to study microbiology. After graduating summa cum laude, he was quickly tapped for an internship at a local clinical research firm, then a pharmaceutical company, and finally as an assistant to Dr. Torres.
Charlie enjoyed the job; Dr. Torres was a good boss, and she treated him appropriately — hard enough that he was challenged to continue learning, but friendly enough that he knew she still cared about his education. It was because of this relationship, and Dr. Torres’ leadership, that he was able to succeed in the role while gaining worldly experience at the firm. As even-keeled and mild-tempered as he was, however, it was on nights like these that Charlie wished he were working somewhere else.
Dr. Torres just wouldn’t stop. They’d been at it for over three hours straight now, with no end in sight. He enjoyed discovering and learning just like any other scientist, but he also enjoyed sleep. Furthermore, he could already feel himself growing hungry again.
“Hey, boss, it’s getting late,” Charlie said. He hated to play that card, but he was long past his ability to be effective.
“Huh?” Dr. Torres said softly as she stared down at the sample and the associated report. “Oh, right, I guess it is getting a little late.”
She looked at her watch.
10:57 PM.
She pushed her glasses back onto her nose and straightened the pile of papers in front of her as she stood up from the table. “Are you heading out?”
Charlie had worked with Dr. Torres long enough to know what the question really meant. Had enough? Can’t handle the grind of real science?
He had also worked with her long enough to know how to handle the situation. “Yeah, exactly.” He laughed. “We’ve done every test in the book and all the reports are there in front of you. I’m happy to stay and read them to you, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got it covered on your own.” He grinned, a half-smile from the left side of his mouth. It was enough to tell Dr. Torres that he was seriously tired, but not serious enough to tell her that he didn’t care. “Plus, you know that I’m only an email away.”
“You’re right. I guess I should be getting some sleep sometime tonight as well. Let me finish up here, and I’ll be on my way out, too.”
Charlie left, and Dr. Torres found herself alone in the sprawling laboratory. It was a state-of-the-art facility, one that she was constantly amazed with. It had everything she could possibly conceive of that she might need for her research, as well as gadgets, tools, and instruments that she could only guess were used by others in the building.
The company they worked for had been around for over forty years, and from stories she’d heard, it had been successful from day one. Operating in the black each and every fiscal year since, she was not surprised that the company spared no expense for its top-notch scientists.
Dr. Torres herself was a fantastic scientist, and she knew it. But working here, during the few times she was able to work side-by-side with other employees, she felt as though she were somewhere in the middle of the pack as far as qualifications went. There were scientists working here she had never met, who had been published in every month of every trade journal she subscribed to. There were also scientists who had spoken at every conference she had ever heard of.
Most of all, however, Dr. Torres enjoyed her position in the company. While she was certainly not the most tenured, nor the most esteemed scientist in the building, she knew that the only way she could improve was by challenging herself. World renowned or not, working somewhere where you were only a number among many other numbers caused you to strive for more than you thought you were capable of. Most days, Dr. Torres felt this way. It was the reason she had come so far in her career, and it was the reason she was not slowing down yet.
She grabbed a stack of papers and the small petri dish from the table and carried them down the hall to her office. Charlie had affixed a lid on the Petri dish and taped it shut, complete with a label signifying what the sample contained.
Unknown s.248 — sample 248.
The viral/bacterial infection that she’d been sent to study.
When she arrived back at her office, she placed the sample on the far wall next to her personal microscope kit and took the report to her desk. She placed it on the stack of papers that were spread over her desk, careful not to cause any to fall to the floor. She moved a few styrofoam cups and plastic takeout trays to the trash next to her chair and sat down in front of her computer.
Her email application was still front and center on the screen. She clicked on the last email she’d received and replied.
>To: Harvey ‘Ben’ Bennett <hbennett1419@yahoo.com>
>From: Diana Torres <diana.torres@focalresearch.org>
>Subject: Re:
>Body: I think we’ve figured part of this out. report attached; p-protected. use my bdate with his first name.
miss you. are you ok?
She read through the email to make sure it included the attachment and the information he would need. She was still surprised by the recipient, though not as overwhelmed as she had been when she’d first heard from him.