Silos of Man

Chapter 12 - Descent into Disillusionment

On the 20-minute walk from class to my lab, I go over the facts again in my head.  I have to bring Joan in on this.  She's not going to be happy that I didn't leave it alone and wait for New London after she told me to, but I'm not sure she's seeing the same possible corruption problem in this situation as I am.  As we both are, actually. 

When I reached out to Tom and explained how everything went down, she, as I had hoped, suggested that we meet at her lab because it wasn't being monitored, as far as she was aware.  We used specimens from her sample lot and my sample.  With my experimental technique, memorized and able to be performed with my eyes closed, we ran the experiment eleven times.  The same conclusion every time.  An average of 47% of the amino acid sequences on each Y-chromosome strand regained their ability to form hydrogen bonds with their corresponding amino acids.  We've got something.  47% means that something we've done has made this happen, we just have to find out what's stopping the other 52%.  We're so goddamn close! 

Tom asked me to keep her out of it when I chat with Joan, so I have to explain how I was able to run the test without using our lab.  Joan knows me well enough to know that I don't have a lot of friends, let alone ones with access to labs outside of ours.  She also knows that Ryann's mother is an Unravelling virologist.  I don't think it will take her long to put that together, but hopefully that won't be the focus of this conversation.  Hopefully the focus of this conversation will be on the fact that with two different samples, the same reparative averages were seen with this technique.  This enormously promising advancement in the research could so clearly propel us to The Cure!  She has to explain to me why New London got different results 16 out of 17 times but then got identical results once.  It's all so perplexing.

I reach for my identification card as I enter the building and realize that my hands are shaking.  I scold myself for being nervous about being honest with Joan.  We've known each other for almost a decade and I know how she feels about me personally.  'Chill out dude!', I hear Ryann's voice in my head and manage to steel myself.  I try to shake the feeling of a deeper fear that Joan may not be in my corner.  If she doesn't see the concerning questions that I do, if she doesn't see the reality that we're on the cusp of The Cure, then what does that say about her?  I won't think about crossing that bridge until I meet it.

Inside the lab, the air feels tense.   Everyone looks at me with a sense of sympathy, but not pity because this is their failure too – I just lead it.  Only it isn't a failure, I'm sure of it.  The chances of the exact same results occurring in that lab in Section 19 without it being significant, is practically impossible.  Joan has to be able to see that.  I'll bring her around.  That deeper fear strikes another chord for a second, and I shake it off again.  She's on my side, I know she is.  Stop being stupid.

I step past the wall blocking my view from Joan's office and emerge to see her throw her phone onto the sofa across the office and slump down into her chair.  I freeze and just watch her for a few seconds.  She looks older than she typically does, and has an air of deflation.  Her eyes are fixed on an envelope lying on her desk in front of her, until they glance up and meet mine.  I see her face change immediately, covered by a veil of maternal affection, but through the veil I can see concern.

She half-smiles at me and motions for me to approach.  My stomach is in full-throttle tumbling mode by the time I get to her door.  As I enter her office, I offer a smile and a "Good Morning Dr. Dwyer."  She smiles and returns the professional greeting.  Despite the emotional roller-coaster wreaking havoc in my gut and out of sight, we both have our game face on, clearly indicating to each other that we're coming at this from a place of professionalism. 

The opening salvo is hers.  "I know you must have a million questions and I want to work through them all with you as best I can, okay?"  Thank Jeebus! "Okay".  "You have to understand, however, that I don't have the fullness of information about this situation, or its depth, but I will share with you what I can, okay?"  Well that's a re-trench.  "Okay", is what I say instead.