The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) (20 page)

Meanwhile, she and her company were at risk of being made to look like a monster. Juliane crumpled a piece of paper that she hadn't even realized she had picked up from the stack on her desk.

“I’ll arrange a conference call with the production facility manager,” her assistant said, already backing out of Juliane’s office.

“And go ahead and start working up the press release. We may need to get out ahead of this one.”

Juliane had ensured that all of her production heads were equipped with functioning ear clips or pendants as part of their manufacturing agreement, so at least she wasn’t going to have to squeeze in an international flight. They all wore them constantly per their agreement, which came in handy for meetings like the one she needed now.

Juliane closed her eyes and sent a meeting command. You really could not get a sense that people understood the gravity of the situation on a conference call, but thanks to her virtual world, she could make sure those that worked for her did. All she had to do was create the correct motivation.

Nets
, he said. Juliane's lips curled in displeasure.
Nets
. Nets would only prevent tragic landings. They did nothing to address why a person would jump from the facility in the first place. The conversation with her initial contact had been a waste of her time. As she listened as the man detailed the list of fees and upgrades the facility would need, she wished she had the luxury of shifting the entire production line, but that wasn't an option. At least not now.

Signing off, Juliane decided she needed to discuss strategy with Damien. Surely some of his connections had found reliable manufacturing partners who could provide volume manufacturing at a reasonable cost without devaluing human life.

Deep in thought, she didn’t immediately react when her office door burst open to a very pale Betty. Upon first glance, the years had not been kind. Betty’s eyes were sunken and her skin shone with a waxy hue. Juliane couldn’t quite remember the last time she had seen the woman in the flesh. She had always looked the same as she had the day they first met whenever they corresponded in the virtual world.

“I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. Your assistant wasn’t at his desk.”

“Yes, we have a situation that I need to attend to.”

“Oh.” Betty froze, glancing furtively at the door. “Am I keeping you from something?”

“Well, I might not be able to give you a whole lot of time, but I can spare a few minutes. Unfortunately, we have gained some experience dealing with these sorts of things.”

Papers positioned next to the chameleon paperweight on Juliane’s desk fluttered from the breeze caused by Betty’s sigh of relief. Juliane caught sight of the lizard’s grin and scowled. It was designed for one job. One.

“I really appreciate it.” Betty’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. “I hate to bother you at the office. I know how busy you always are.”

Juliane nodded in acknowledgment as she attempted to gather up a few of the files she would need for the next hours’ worth of meetings.

“Betty, you know I would love to be able to spend more time after hours with you, but you should know from your own experience how demanding these schedules can be, especially over the last few years.”

“I’m not judging you. That’s not why I am here.”

“Well then, don’t apologize. What can I do for you?” Until the factory was held accountable, each minute wasted was putting more lives at risk.

Betty moved like a cuckoo bird, only one that had lost its voice. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, trying usually goes a long way.” Juliane had meant the comment as a joke, but her present mood made the words sound terser than she intended. She looked away, only to have her gaze catch on the framed image of the Bullmastiffs hung on her office wall. There was no time to consult with Damien. She knew what she had to do to get through to these people.

When she had entered the room, Betty’s face had been somewhat yellowed; the subsequent blush made her resemble rotting fruit. “You’re right, but of course you are always right, aren’t you?” Betty chuckled at her own joke, but the laughter was forced. “It’s Stevie.”

“Your son? He’s what, two now?”

“Four, actually.”

“Really, has it been so long?”

“I’ve learned that he’s been seeing things.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a boy his age to have an overactive imagination.”

“I wouldn’t be worried if it was an imaginary friend. What he is seeing is much worse.”

“Could he have stumbled across some of your and Alan’s work? Images of the human body dissected can be quite traumatic to a young boy.”

“We aren’t working together anymore . . .” Betty’s voice trailed off. Juliane had to strain her ears to make out Betty’s last word.

“Oh?” Juliane didn’t really expect a response but took Betty’s silence as confirmation. “That’s a shame. You both seemed to be quite the team.”

Juliane mentally checked her internal clock. Stuart likely had notified the majority of the remaining production heads by now. If she could wrap this up in the next couple of minutes, she might still have time to pour a cup of coffee before beginning the interrogation. "As nice as it is to see you, I'm really the last person you should be coming to with family problems. Perhaps you might want to talk to someone like a—”

Betty interrupted, “I don’t know how much more time he has!”

Juliane returned her full attention to the woman in her office, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. With a thought, she sent a message to her assistant informing him that she would be delayed for a few more minutes but to start arranging the next call.

“What do you mean? What's going on?”

“It began several months ago. Stevie started telling us fantastic stories about places we’d never been to and about awful people we’ve never met. At first, we thought what you did, he had just started to create imaginary friends.”

Juliane nodded in encouragement.

“But then he described seeing some place that sounded like a torture chamber with people being transformed into monsters. Alan and I had a huge fight about it. I accused him of allowing Stevie to watch inappropriate movies. Then it got worse. Stevie would suddenly start screaming for no determinable reason, only to go catatonic immediately afterward. I tried everything to snap him out of it, but nothing worked. He just wasn’t there. The episodes started getting more frequent, and he would be gone longer and longer. I had to stop working. One of us had to be home with him at all times. Now I'm afraid to even sleep, terrified that one of these days he won’t wake up at all.”

Tears flowed freely down Betty’s cheeks as Juliane took a nervous step before freezing in place. Juliane was completely out of her element and at a loss as to what might be expected from her after such a revelation.

“Where is he now?”

“There's a children’s clinic here. He is there for observation, but no one seems to know anything.”

Juliane crossed the remaining distance until she was at Betty’s side, placing an awkward hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Well, I am sure that they will be able to figure out what is the issue. You look exhausted. Did you come here to ask to take a nap on my couch while you wait for the results?”

“I would have slept at the hospital if I just wanted a nap,” Betty snapped.

“Sorry, then I just don’t understand. What does Alan think is the matter? You do know that I am not a medical doctor, right? My studies were purely theoretical. I am afraid I don’t have any experience with what you described.”

“Yes, you do.” Juliane pulled her hand back as Betty spun with violence to face her. “You and Alan have more experience than anyone.” Gone was any appearance of nicety from Betty’s expression. “The doctors aren’t going to find anything. They don’t know yet what they're looking for, but I do. I was there. I saw what it did to you and Alan.” Betty’s shoulders sagged under the weight of her pronouncement.

“You think Alan performed the procedure on your son? He takes incredible risks, but I can’t imagine he would risk a child’s well-being.” Juliane considered what she knew about Alan. “Well, perhaps he would with other people’s kids, but never his own! What did Alan say when you asked him about it?”

Betty’s shoulders slumped as the fight left her body as quickly as it had arrived. “He denied everything of course.”

Juliane was out of her depth and racked her brain to find a way to defuse the situation. Pressure began to bloom behind her temple like a thunderhead. There was no time for distraction. She had to get back to the business at hand. “Alan and I don’t see eye to eye very often, but I would be inclined to believe him. There has to be another explanation.”

Betty raised an eyebrow at Juliane’s statement but did not challenge her further. “Alan may not have strapped him to a table and stuck him with needles, but he’s wrong about not being responsible.”

Juliane’s forehead knit. “What are you suggesting?”

“If he didn’t have the procedure, then there is another fairly basic explanation. The virus mutated, and he was simply born with the upgrade but doesn’t have the mental maturity to control it.”

“Could that really happen?”

“Easily. You of all people should understand how survival depends on adaptation. Now, unless I can figure out a way to help him control it, I expect the energy drain is killing him.”

The room took on a temporary red hue, and Betty’s features blurred as a meeting notice flared within Juliane’s mind. Stuart must have successfully gotten everyone online. Betty was obviously under a lot of stress and grasping at any possible solution, but her theory was ridiculous. There was no way that Alan would have allowed the virus to escape his control. The minute hand on her internal clock shifted again. By now, her first contact would have briefed his colleagues on their earlier conversation. If she was going to be able to bring them around to her way of thinking, she needed to make sure this time they understood exactly how displeased she was, and each second was more time for them to agree on some lip service statement. Her legacy as well as several lives were potentially at stake.

As much as she wanted to help her friend, there was nothing she could do better than the care he was already receiving at the clinic. While Juliane had debated her options, Betty had wiped her tears away, but her skin still remained smeared with moisture. Clearly she was looking for some form of comfort, but Juliane was still unsure what she could offer.

“What did Alan say when you talked to him about this possibility?” Juliane began moving toward the door, hopeful that the motion might encourage Betty to follow.

“He still thinks the cause is something more ordinary, like night terrors or epilepsy. He near accused me of hiding a genetic defect in my family history. As if our son’s condition couldn’t possibly be a result of something from his side of the family tree or something he did.” Once again, Betty’s cheeks flared with pent-up anger.

Juliane could almost see the remaining evidence of tears evaporate when exposed to the fire of Betty’s expression. She had never seen her friend look so fierce.

Pulling the door open for Betty, Juliane commented, “I know too well how Alan can be at times, but he is one of the most brilliant minds alive today. I am sure that if he just has time to really look at the problem, he’ll be able to figure it out.”

Betty refused to budge.

Juliane continued as if Betty wasn’t like a land mine posed to go off with a single misstep. “Until then, I am sure the doctors are going to take great care of your son.”

Betty remained where she stood.

Looking at the open door, Juliane wondered if it might be easier to join the call from a nearby conference room. “You are still more than welcome to stay and get some rest here before heading back to the hospital."

Betty chewed her lip as she took a small step toward the open door. Her voice dropped to a dull monotone when she next spoke. Her shoulders shifted not unlike a lioness readying herself for a strike. “I don’t believe you realize how closely you came to dying in the labs while you adjusted to the change.”

Betty pivoted and began strolling along the side of the room, running her finger along the wall. “If Chad and I hadn’t made sure you were cared for, you wouldn't be in this fancy office today.”

Stopping near Juliane’s desk, she picked up Juliane’s paperweight and held it as if studying its living counterpart. “You always thought yourself so much better than the rest of us . . .”

Returning the metal lizard to its resting place, she redirected her attention to Juliane. “Remember how concerned you had been about my ability to handle the upgrade? You didn’t think I could handle it. Now, imagine what it must be like for my son. He’s only a child. All I am asking is for you to help me take care of him. There is no one in this world as experienced as you to guide him through the process.” Betty’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Please, Jules. I am begging you.”

Juliane winced. She recognized that the woman was a desperate mother, but if Alan suspected the child’s condition was caused by epilepsy, then it probably was, and no amount of mentoring would change that. Juliane shook her head. There was nothing she could do.

Betty’s nostrils flared. “I see. I came here looking for a friend. But I see now, I never had one here. The next time you need help, and you will, don’t look to me to bail you out,” she spat.

The room flared red again. Juliane drew herself up. She had never asked for Betty’s help. She had managed for years without anyone. She didn’t need anyone. Relationships just got in the way. Juliane sighed as her headache began to ease. Perhaps it was better this way. She’d keep it professional, but perhaps it was time for them all to focus on the bigger picture.

Juliane mentally summoned Stuart back to the office. He must have returned to his desk as he was instantly inside the room. “Dr. Dronigh has had a tiring past few weeks. Can you please make sure that she has something cool to drink while I attend this meeting and arrange for a car to take her back to St. James Hospital?”