Kathy entered the conference center ten minutes after the talk was scheduled to start, just as a man was stepping up to the podium. She slipped into a seat as he began speaking, his deep voice broadcast from speakers all around the room.
“Since you’re here, I’m assuming many of you students are either interested in the field of genetics or have curiosity about the topic. As a genetics researcher and a medical doctor, I know what the media would have you believe about GMOs and how anyone working on such research is something akin to the spawn of Satan.”
“You bastards are giving us all cancer!” yelled someone from the back of the large room.
A handful of students stood behind the seats, holding up posters with anti-GMO slogans. “Say no to GMO,” they began chanting. The crowd buzzed with disapproval.
Kathy had always admired political activists, but in this case, she really just wanted them to shut up. She wanted to hear what the lecturer was saying.
Campus security quickly took charge. They forcefully removed the protestors from the room and shut the door behind them, but not before one last shout of “You’re just monopolist pigs bilking cash from all of us!”
When the doors finally slammed shut and the sound of the protests faded, the audience murmured with annoyance and turned their attention back to the lecturer.
The guest speaker shook his head and sighed into the microphone. “Like I said, some of the things we do in genetic research are misunderstood. Some, like our friends in the back of the room, assert that the work I’m doing is giving people cancer. Sadly, they probably believe it. But if I can ask everyone in this room for one favor, it would be this: never get caught up in popular rhetoric. Don’t take what others say as gospel. Even the things I say should be questioned. Always do your own research before forming an opinion.”
Something about this man struck Kathy as oddly familiar. He was young, thirties, possibly Hispanic. And he held a mournful expression that somehow made her feel sorry for him.
“That said, since the issue has been raised, let me address this cancer claim. Frankly it’s laughable. In fact, I am an oncologist—a cancer doctor—and the goal of my research has always been, ultimately, to treat cancer in humans. As to the accusation that I am a monopolist, I’ll admit that AgriMed, the company I work for, is a large corporation. There’s no denying that. But we’re hardly a monopoly. Moreover, I find the accusation ironic. Google serves up nearly ninety percent of all Internet searches and Android is the operating system on almost ninety percent of all smartphones, yet I don’t hear people protesting against them for having a very popular product that people want to use.”
The room was getting warm. With the air conditioner clearly struggling with the number of bodies in the room, Kathy gathered her hair and tucked it under her baseball cap to keep it off her neck.
“And finally, let me try to dispel the boogieman that is GMO.
“We in the research field don’t purposefully invent things to cause harm to anyone. We’re usually investigating a problem that affects people, and we’re all trying to come up with the best solution.
“For instance, there’s been ongoing research trying to solve the vitamin A deficiency that is an epidemic in some parts of the world. In 2005, 190 million children and 19 million pregnant women in 122 countries were estimated to be affected by vitamin A deficiency.
“Many of you may not realize it, but this form of vitamin deficiency is a serious issue that’s responsible for 1 to 2 million deaths and 500,000 cases of irreversible blindness each and every year.
“The problem is most prevalent in parts of the world where the diet relies heavily on rice. That’s because rice doesn’t provide vitamin A. But clinical researchers have discovered that by snipping the phytoene synthase gene from corn and combining it with another gene, they can produce a new strain of rice that is being called ‘golden rice.’ Just five ounces of golden rice provides a complete daily allowance of vitamin A. These protestors may be scared by the idea of science affecting food, but I assure you, the millions of people who suffer from vitamin A deficiency are not.”
The man looked across the room. “But GMOs are just one type of genetic research. Some of the most exciting developments in the field have to do with gene therapy. Consider: What if you could treat a patient with cystic fibrosis by literally replacing the faulty gene causing the trouble, thus lengthening their life? Or what if I told you that sixteen heart disease patients—many of whom were at death’s door—received gene therapy targeted at their hearts, triggering blood vessel growth, resulting in either demonstrable improvement or complete relief of pain. It’s not science fiction; it’s happening.
“We’re on the verge of a whole new world, and it’s all thanks to medical research. Now, if I could get back to my prepared talk, I’d like to share a little bit about what that research entails.”
As the speaker continued, Kathy, for the first time, noticed the man sitting on a chair behind the lectern. A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the room.
Anything the speaker said flew past her as she stared at the last person in the world she’d ever hoped to see again. The same man who’d had her sign a bunch of non-disclosure documents and paid her for her silence.
She leaned over and whispered to the acne-scarred girl sitting next to her, “Who’s the guy sitting to the right of the lectern?”
“You mean the older guy wearing the thousand-dollar suit? That’s Dr. Harry Winslow. I think he said he’s the head of research for some Big Pharma company. He’s the one who introduced the guy who’s speaking now.”
Kathy stared daggers at the head researcher as his attention remained focused on the speaker.
It annoyed Kathy that this man looked so dignified, so respected. Yet she was the only one here who knew that he was covering up some subtropical hellhole. One that was responsible for the death of her boyfriend.
When the talk concluded, and everyone else began heading toward the exits, Kathy pushed against the tide and yelled across the crowd, “Dr. Winslow!”
He looked her way, and for a moment, their eyes met. She saw a flicker of recognition. Then he turned and began walking away.
She pushed harder against the flow of traffic, ignoring the annoyed grumbling of the other students. “Dr. Winslow!”
The crowd pushed harder, and she found herself shunted to one side. Her foot caught on the leg of a chair, and she stumbled. The floor rushed up to meet her.
An arm wrapped around her waist. “Whoa. Careful there. Are you okay?”
Kathy glanced in the direction that Winslow had disappeared and her throat tightened. The anger morphed into bitter frustration as she fought to keep herself together.
“Are you okay?” the man repeated. “Did you hit your head at all?”
Kathy turned to find that the man who caught her was the Hispanic speaker. He looked concerned as his warm brown eyes inspected her as if looking for any damage.
“I’m—I’m fine.” Kathy took a deep calming breath. “I just tripped.”
“Was there something you wanted to ask Dr. Winslow? He had to run to catch a flight, but I can probably answer your questions.” He paused… and then a smile grew on his face. “You’re Katherine O’Reilly.”
Kathy wracked her brain trying to figure out how he knew her—and why he looked familiar.
He chuckled and extended his hand. “I’m the guy who found your wallet at the airport a few months back. Juan Gutierrez.”
“Oh my god!” Kathy shook his hand. “What a bizarre coincidence.”
“Indeed. So, did you have any questions I could answer for you?”
Kathy felt warmth creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She didn’t even know what she would have said to Winslow if she had caught up to him. But it wasn’t a question this man could answer. “I guess the question popped out of my head when I fell.”
“Oh.” Juan looked almost… disappointed. He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Well, my flight isn’t until tomorrow and I’m starving. Do you… uh… do you have any recommendations for a decent meal around here?”
“Oh, sure. My roommate was gushing about the Mai Kai. It’s a new Asian fusion restaurant, supposed to be really nice. I can’t vouch for it myself though—haven’t tried it.”
Juan’s face brightened. “Well, why don’t you join me? Maybe over dinner you’ll remember what you were going to ask Winslow.”
Kathy blinked rapidly. Did he just ask me out? The last thing she wanted right now was a date.
“Umm…”
Juan gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing weird. I just hate eating alone. It kind of sucks. And bonus, the company will pay for the meal.”
Kathy had worked bars for a few years, so she’d experienced her share of sleazy bastards. This guy didn’t seem like that. He seemed… sincere. She knew better than most how being alone in a strange place really did suck.
“I’ll have to let my roommate know that I’m going out, but okay. When did you want to leave?”
He smiled. “How about now?”
###
Juan sipped his iced tea and took in the strange surroundings of the restaurant. It had a Polynesian style, decorated with palm fronds and tiki statues. Live on-stage entertainment involved hula dancers and fiery swords, and the waitresses were all in island dress. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was somewhere in the Hawaiian Islands.
Their seat gave them a poor view of the stage, but that was fine by Juan. He’d much rather have an excuse to keep looking at the stunning coed.
“So,” he said. “You’re twenty-five, a former singer, and a now a freshman at college. There’s got to be a good story behind that. How’d you end up at Georgetown?”
Keeping her gaze on her drink, Kathy swirled her soda with a straw and shrugged. “To be honest, college was never something I’d planned. I mean, I was always good at school, but the only thing I had in mind during my senior year in high school was to get away from home.”
Juan’s mind raced to likely causes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Kathy said quickly, looking up from her drink. “Don’t get me wrong—my parents are awesome and I love them to death. But they live on a small ranch in Nevada, and I hated it. I knew that if I stuck around, I’d never get out of there. I wanted to see the world a bit, and I figured I probably had a good enough voice for singing at bars and stuff, so I left.”
“And what made you give up that dream for college?”
Kathy cocked her head.
Even though the lighting in the large restaurant was purposefully dim, Juan felt mesmerized by her green-eyed gaze.
“You’re making fun of me. Nobody in their right mind would think singing in a bar is anyone’s dream.”
“I wasn’t…” Juan paused as he replayed in his mind what he’d said. “Sorry, I guess that came off as sarcastic, but I didn’t mean it that way. Being able to travel and do what you like seems pretty awesome.”
Kathy gave the slightest hint of a frown. “You think waiting on tables and singing at bars is awesome? Come on, I didn’t exactly just fall off a turnip truck. You’re a doctor at a big pharmaceutical company.”
Juan smiled. “I guess that’s maybe how others see me, but on the inside, I’m still that kid born in the slums of East LA I had an infinitely higher chance of dealing drugs or working at some dead-end job than becoming a doctor. I’m lucky that I had a very strong-willed mother who pushed me to be better than that.”
At that moment a waiter walked by with a large bowl full of shaved ice and fruit, with sparklers stuck into it. Some bare-chested Polynesian waiters appeared out of nowhere and began singing “Happy Birthday” to an older lady at the table next to them.
Kathy smiled at the woman’s surprised reaction. It was the first time Juan had seen her smile; it lit up her entire face. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and he suddenly felt more awkward than he’d ever felt before.
Don’t hit on this girl. It’s wrong. Besides, you don’t stand a chance.
While the men sang, Juan noticed Kathy had a couple of circular pink scars peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. There was another on the back of her left hand, and one on the back of her right wrist.
His mind raced back to medical school and the classes he’d taken on immunology. For some reason, the scars reminded him of what he’d read about regarding smallpox vaccinations. They reminded him of the round, oftentimes pink scars that had once been common indications of a recent smallpox vaccination.
But smallpox had been eradicated in the late seventies.
Just as he was going to ask about the scars, a waiter arrived with their food.
The waiter laid a gorgeously arranged plate in front of Kathy and said, “For the lady, the teriyaki wagyu beef served with roasted mushrooms, asparagus, grilled pineapple, garlic confit, and sprinkled with sesame seeds.”
The waiter placed a steaming dish in front of Juan. “And for the gentleman, the twenty-ounce cowboy Delmonico ribeye, marinated and hung over oak coals, medium rare, served with wasabi horseradish and mashed potatoes.”
Juan’s mouth watered as he took in the succulent aroma coming off of his plate.
When the waiter left, Juan smiled at Kathy. “Don’t take this wrong, but I’m glad to see you’re not a vegan.”
Kathy snorted as she plunged her fork into a cube-like piece of meat on her plate. “Not hardly. I think my father would have disowned me. And besides, I’m slightly anemic, so I’m supposed to eat some red meat.”
Juan cut a piece from his steak and marveled at the pink juicy morsel at the end of his fork. “Well, as a physician, I wholly endorse your choice of treatment for the anemia. I think you’ll have a promising future in medicine.”
For the first time since they’d met, Kathy graced him with a smile.
###
Juan leaned back in his chair, patted his flat stomach and groaned. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten this much.”
Kathy took a final sip of soda. “My roommate said that this place has a big trail with views of the Potomac. It’s supposed to be all lit up with torches at night so it’s just like being in Hawaii. You interested in walking some of this food off?”
Juan tried to keep the excitement from his voice. “Absolutely.” He’d figured his time with Kathy was at its end, and he would have taken any excuse to prolong the evening.
Kathy led the way outside.
Juan was amazed at how successfully the riverside location had been transformed into what looked like a tropical paradise. The sounds of crickets and birds surrounded them as they strolled along palm tree-lined paths dotted with the occasional torch. He looked for the speakers he knew must be piping in those sounds, but they’d done a good job of hiding them.
“This place is amazing,” he said.
Kathy breathed in deeply and nodded. For a second, Juan thought he saw a pained expression flash across her face.
“So…” she said. “Maybe you could tell me more about what you’re doing now in your research?”
“I’d love to. Frankly, I’m kind of excited by it.” Juan motioned toward a well-lit alcove with a bench hewn from a log. “Let’s sit and enjoy the breeze.”
Kathy sat in the middle of the six-foot-wide bench, and as Juan sat, she twisted in place so she faced him.
He drank in the image of this beautiful girl and felt nervous once more.
“Before I say anything,” he said, “I just have to ask you to keep this to yourself. We haven’t yet announced the details of some of my work and—”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”
Juan nodded. “Well, it started with me trying to figure out how multiple copies of a certain gene showed up in modern-day elephants…”
###
To Juan’s surprise, Kathy seemed sincerely fascinated as he explained everything he’d been working on. She even asked very probing questions. This woman was as smart as she was beautiful.
“So,” Kathy asked, “the pattern you found, it really was accurate for other animals?”
“Yup. I was kind of shocked, myself. It took a lot of tweaking because some of my data had come from partially damaged DNA samples, but in the end, it was like I’d found a key to a puzzle. The same basic pattern appeared across species.”
Kathy hesitated, then asked: “Do you believe in God?”
Juan’s eyes opened wider as the unexpected question registered, and he paused, giving the question serious consideration. “I do. In fact, I grew up Catholic, though I’d be lying if I said I’d been in church recently. Not since my mom died.”
“Well, have you ever thought that you might have found a pattern that God had put into all animals? How else can the universality of this pattern be explained?”
“Oh,” Juan exclaimed, not having expected the conversation to go in that direction. “I usually don’t allow myself to assign motivation into things, or delve into subjects that I can’t prove. And God’s one of those unknowable things. And I’m not saying you couldn’t be right, just that… well, there are things we can believe, and there are things we can study.”
Kathy nodded. “I have another question. What about environmental influences? How can you determine centuries of evolution when evolution is often driven by external factors? Wasn’t that what Darwin’s observations were all about?”
“That’s a great question. I suppose I think of it like this: all of our lives, whether it’s humanity or the rest of the animal kingdom, we’re connected by genetics. That being said, it stands to reason that the inherent way that DNA evolves can take certain paths. For instance, my algorithm wouldn’t know if a path becomes a dead end due to environmental situations.
“Imagine the dinosaurs. If I had DNA samples, sure, I could try and predict what they’d be like nowadays, but my algorithm wouldn’t know about the asteroids—or ice ages, or any other global catastrophes. So the algorithm plots an evolutionary path in a vacuum, if you will. And in that sense, it’s a purer path than what we see in the real world.
“Really, I see the pattern like a cipher. An evolutionary puzzle that just needed someone to come along and see that it was there. Without being too modest… I think maybe that’s what I’ve done.”
“Darwin’s cipher?” Kathy said, smiling.
“Yes—I suppose so.” Juan returned her smile.
Silence settled over them, and Kathy stood. “Well, it’s getting late, and I really need to get to bed.” She rolled her eyes. “I made the mistake of signing up for an eight a.m. class.”
Juan chuckled. “I think all freshmen make that mistake once in their student career. But only once! Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
###
As Kathy walked from Juan’s car to her dorm, she forced herself not to look back. This was the first time she’d been out with anyone since Brad, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. Every time she felt herself having a good time with Juan, her mind would flash back to Brad, and the guilt would wash over her yet again.
Maybe it was just too soon.
And yet… Juan was so nice. He was older, sure, but not too much older. Younger than Brad. And he didn’t talk to her like he was older, or like he was a teacher and she was his student. He put them both on the same level. Just two people talking.
And… he was interested. He never made a move of any kind, but she could tell.
As she walked under one of the streetlights just outside the dorm entrance, she glanced at the business card he’d given her. It had his personal cell number on the back. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t want her to call him.
Of course, she wouldn’t. She had way too much emotional baggage at the moment. And he lived in a totally different state.
She carefully slid his business card into her purse and two people suddenly stepped out of the shadows near the dorm entrance. Kathy barely held back a scream of surprise.
“Katherine O’Reilly?”
Kathy froze mid-step and stared wide-eyed as the man brandished a badge with a printed ID held at arm’s length. He and his companion were both wearing business attire, which stuck out like a sore thumb on a school campus.
“Excuse me, but are you Katherine O’Reilly?” he repeated.
Kathy nodded, though she readied herself just in case she had to sprint to the dorm’s entrance.
“Ma’am, I’m Special Agent Carrington with the FBI.” The man motioned to his right. “This is Special Agent Ragheb. I believe you were involved in an incident about four months ago that we’d like to ask you some questions about.”