Anthem's Fall

Chapter Sixty

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Chapter Twenty-Six

Kristen

As Kristen stood behind the podium preparing for her lecture, her fear of public speaking vastly outweighed any dread she felt toward her precarious location in Times Square during a heightened national security alert. She stared out at the few hundred people in attendance as prickly nerves tumbled through her body and left her feeling empty and exposed.

Kristen turned to Professor Vatruvia, who was sitting beside the podium in all of his glory, waving to people he recognized in the crowd. She resented his polished 60 Minutes guise; it concealed the deep reserve of reckless ambition he had just below the surface.

A convention worker signaled for Kristen to begin, and she anxiously moved the cursor of the laptop and clicked the play button on the slideshow she had prepared with the additional slide on the Vatruvian mice. That one slide would bring their research crashing down. How would Professor Vatruvia's self-satisfied expression transform when he saw the slide? An enormous high-definition image of a Vatruvian cell came to colorful life on the projector screen behind her, and the ballroom filled with inspired applause. A few piercing whistles sounded from the ocean of eager faces. She often forgot the degree to which the Vatruvian cell was the coveted vanguard of the scientific world. Kristen nodded in acknowledgement of the applause and felt color rise in her cheeks. The numb sensation traveling through her body reminded her of how she felt before the curtains were drawn back in her third-grade class play. She had been Martha Washington. Standing paralyzed behind the podium, Kristen felt as though she was still a terrified eight-year-old wearing a white bonnet. All of her degrees and accomplishments did nothing to overcome the sudden deluge of self-doubt. She took a deep breath, her pulse nearly choking her vocal chords.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," Kristen spoke into the microphone and listened to her own magnified voice carry easily across the ballroom. She thought it sounded nasally. The first words were always the hardest. "I would first like the thank the ICST organization for allowing our research team the privilege of presenting our work here at the convention. It is a great honor to be among so many prominent researchers." She took a deep steadying breath, and the room fell so silent she could hear the whir of the laptop in front of her. "I am Kristen Jordan, and I work with the genetics of the Vatruvian cell. I've been a part of the Vatruvian cell research efforts alongside Professor Vatruvia since the project's very beginning. My primary area of study has been specific to the deconstructing of biological cells' genetic structure and the reconstructing of viable synthetic variations."

Kristen kept her eyes locked on the rear wall of the ballroom, avoiding eye contact from the politely nodding heads and prying eyes of the front rows. Ryan was out there somewhere, and though she could not hope to find him among all the faces looking at her, that knowledge gave her reassurance. At least one person in the audience would have her back when she told them of the mice. She realized, thinking of Ryan and only Ryan despite the crowd, that she was falling in love with him.

"Though we have made tremendous progress recently in our research, I will start by first providing a basic overview of the Vatruvian cell since its earliest developmental stages over a year ago." Kristen's breathing was becoming less constricted, her words less labored and her voice beginning to feel like her own again. "When Professor Vatruvia first contacted me with a proposal for a cutting-edge research endeavor, we spoke of discovering a means to create a truly synthetic cell. Well, from there on . . . the sky has been the limit."