Anthem's Fall

Chapter Forty Five

Chapter Fourteen

Kristen

Kristen Jordan sat quietly on her couch, untouched takeout sushi for two on the coffee table and a television program murmuring on her dated flat screen. She could not bring herself to look at the containers of food or the show, so instead Kristen stared contemplatively out the window into the fall night. Beyond the rusty fire escape and the building across the street, her studio had a surprisingly impressive view of the city considering her monthly rent. The lit skyscrapers of Midtown shone through a dreariness of fog that had taken hold of Manhattan. High above the lofty rooftops, she could trace a dome of light as it illuminated the moisture hanging over the city. With a tired gaze she looked out at the skyline as the rooftops disappeared into the foggy mists of the heavens.

Ryan was coming over, and Kristen was thankful for it. There was something about him that calmed her. By all accounts he should have made her nervous, as she was usually shy around guys she liked. And yet every time they were together she felt at peace with everything. At first glance he was so attractive, painfully so. It was sometimes hard to hold his eye contact and keep herself from blushing. But his looks were of an athletic type that she did not usually go for. Her affection for him was not based on his attractiveness; it was something about the way he carried himself that drew her in.

Looking out over Manhattan, Kristen realized that she would have been utterly alone in this city—in her little social sphere of scientists and laboratory small talk—were it not for him. Her research had come to alienate her from everyone. She would not let it stand between her and others any more, especially Ryan.

The thought of the next morning's scientific convention at the hotel amid all those tall buildings made her ill with angst. The day would prove to be a great networking opportunity, but Kristen's discovery of Professor Vatruvia's private research had left a vile taste in her mouth. Any thought of the Vatruvian mice in their secluded cages made her feel sick. Kristen could not stop thinking about Cara's revelation: the Vatruvian cells were stronger than the natural cells they replicated. Would the same phenomenon hold true for larger systems? Were those mottled mice with their bluish eyes superior to natural mice?

Kristen's apartment doorbell rang and snapped her out of her thoughts. She roused herself from the couch and pressed the intercom button. "The buzzer's broken, I'll come let you up."

She slid her feet into her slippers, pulled on an old MIT sweatshirt, and walked out to the stairwell, leaving the door ajar behind her. Beyond the lobby, the October night was chilly and wet. Ryan was waiting outside, the hood of his rain jacket pulled down over his forehead. He smiled at her through the drizzle. She folded her arms with a shiver as she pushed open the door. The damp autumn air was cold and laden with the smell of cigarettes from people smoking outside the bar next door.

"Hi," Kristen said.

"Hey. I brought some booze." Ryan held a bottle of wine wrapped in a brown paper bag. "You like red wine?"

"If it has alcohol in it, I'm happy. I need a drink." Kristen laughed mirthlessly and held his gaze.