Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
K athleen stepped into the lab and let the door ease shut behind her. The familiar scent of the nutrient solution wrapped around her like a second skin. It was cool inside, the lights casting a bluish tint over the tanks where her plants floated like luminous creatures from another world.
Ted was there, crouched beside one of the water filters, adjusting a pressure valve. He looked up when he heard her and blinked in surprise.
"Hey," he said, as he stood and brushed his hands on the sides of his lab coat. "Didn’t expect to see you in today. I thought you were taking another day off."
Kathleen offered a small smile. "I needed to check a few things. And I wanted to see how the plants were holding up. You read my paper?"
Ted nodded. “Of course I did. It’s been everywhere and it’s all everyone’s talking about. Congratulations.” He gave her a look that hovered somewhere between hurt and curiosity. “You didn’t mention you were going to submit."
"I know. I’m sorry," she said, stepping further into the room. "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Everything came together so fast. I barely had time to think."
He accepted that with a slow nod, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. "Still… would’ve been nice to get a heads-up."
"You’re right," she said softly. "I should’ve told you."
Ted turned back to the nearest tank, fiddling with the readout display. The plants inside pulsed with a faint bioluminescence, their fronds curling slightly as if responding to the sound of their voices.
"I’ve been meaning to tell you something too," he said after a beat. "I’m nearly done with my thesis. I’ll be submitting in a couple of weeks. End of the month, actually."
Kathleen blinked. "That’s wonderful, Ted. I’m proud of you."
"Thanks," he said, his voice subdued. "So, I’ll be finishing up here soon and moving on."
She felt a wave of disappointment. "I guess I always knew this wasn’t permanent for you, but I’ll still be sorry to lose you. You’ve been a wonderful support."
He looked pleased. "Thanks. That means a lot."
She hesitated. "If you’re interested, there’s a place here for you after you graduate. I’d love you to stay on.”
Ted shook his head. "I appreciate it, but I’ve got other plans. I’m going to travel for a bit. See the world."
"Where to?"
"Middle East, for a start," he said. "I’ve got some friends working on a desert greening project and been offered a job there. I’ll take it and see where it goes from there."
Kathleen nodded slowly, masking her surprise. She’d thought he was more of a homebody. "That sounds incredible. I hope it’s everything you want it to be."
"Yeah," he said. "Me too."
“Maybe you might be tending to these plants in the desert one day.”
His eyes widened. “You think you can get these suckers to grow without water?”
She shrugged. “I’ve got some thoughts on that.” She tapped her head. “It’s all up in here at the moment.”
He tilted his head to study her. “Care to share.”
She smiled. “That’ll be for my next helper.”
“I guess so,” he said reluctantly.
She glanced at the plants again, thinking he loved them as much as she did. "Just promise me you’ll stay in touch."
"Of course," Ted said. "That’s a given."
They worked in companionable silence after that, and Kathleen tried not to think about working with someone else. It took so much patience and time to teach them how she liked things done.
An hour later, she was finishing her notes for the morning, when her phone buzzed in her lab coat pocket.
“Hello, Kathleen speaking.”
"Dr. Knowles," the Director of the laboratories said warmly, "the Chairman would like to extend his congratulations in person. Could you join him in the boardroom?"
“I’ll finish up here and and be there in five minutes, sir.”
She stripped off her lab coat and gloves, and called out to Ted as she walked to the door. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
The boardroom was quiet when she entered, the sun throwing muted light across the polished table through the tinted glass windows. The Chairman stood at the head of it, tall and silver-haired, smiling as she stepped inside.
George Wainwright had been with the Institute for over a decade, a seasoned academic with a background in theoretical physics and a nose for opportunity.
He carried himself with authority, less inclined to micromanage than to empower, and formidable when crossed.
Kathleen had rarely interacted with him directly, but she’d seen the respect he commanded among the senior faculty.
"Dr. Knowles," he said, coming around the table to shake her hand. "Congratulations. Your publication is nothing short of extraordinary."
"Thank you," she said, still a little awkward in the face of praise. "I wasn’t expecting all this."
"Well, brilliance deserves recognition," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat at the table with him. "I’ve been reading through your paper again this morning. It’s impressive work. You've put the Institute on the map, not only nationally, but internationally."
Kathleen felt her cheeks flush. "That’s very generous of you, sir."
"Not generous—accurate," he said, settling in across from her. "It’s been years since we’ve had something this important come out of our labs. We’re all proud of you."
There was a pause as Kathleen shifted nervously in her chair. The room felt formal, but Wainwright’s tone was warm.
"Eve read the article last night and said, 'You’ve got a genius on your hands.' And she’s not easily impressed," he said with a chuckle.
Kathleen smiled at that. Eve Wainright was a no-nonsense, small woman, a brilliant biomedical researcher in her own right and the force behind her more out-going husband. Praise coming from her was to be savoured. "Tell her thank you. That means a great deal."
"I will. In fact, Eve insisted we celebrate this properly," George said.
"Which brings me to the real reason I asked you up here. I’ve decided to host a cocktail party at our home tomorrow evening.
Nothing too grand—a few key figures from the scientific and academic community and your family and friends of course.
I'd like to celebrate your success properly. "
Kathleen blinked. "That’s… very kind of you."
"You’ve earned it. And it’ll be good for our image as well—for all of us," he said, leaning back slightly. "The world is watching now. We want to show them that the Institute supports innovation, and the brilliant minds behind it."
He reached into a folder beside him and handed her a formal invitation. "Six thirty. It’ll be a relaxed evening."
Kathleen took the card, turning it over once in her hands. "Thank you," she said. "I’ll be there. My father and mother would be thrilled to attend too."
"Excellent," George said, standing again to walk her to the door. "We look forward to it. And Kathleen—congratulations again. You’ve done something remarkable."
As she left the boardroom, invitation in hand, Kathleen felt a flutter of nerves. She preferred to shun visibility, but with the world watching, she had to own her work.
T hat evening, Kathleen took a cab across the city and let herself into Veronica’s apartment using the spare key she had pressed into her palm two nights earlier. The place was dimly lit, soft jazz playing through the speakers, a bottle of red already breathing on the counter.
Veronica appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Hey. Dinner’s almost ready. Pour us a drink?"
Kathleen nodded and reached for the wine, filling two glasses and handing one to Veronica as they settled into the living room.
They sat quietly at first, the intimacy of the moment needing no rush. But eventually, Kathleen turned slightly toward her. "So? What did you find out?"
Veronica took a slow sip. "You’re not going to like it."
Kathleen’s stomach twisted. "Try me."
"I followed up with Com Co. I posed as a workplace safety officer and asked if any of the cleaners gave anyone access to get into your lab."
Kathleen leaned forward. "And?"
"The woman in charge contacted the cleaner who does your lab, and she swore she let no one in. The firm has an excellent reputation which they can’t afford to lose. I believed them.”
Kathleen bit her lip. "Then someone in the building bypassed security. That narrows it down."
Veronica fiddled with her glass. "Kathleen... it was Darlene. She’s the one who stole your work."
Kathleen’s fingers tightened around the stem of hers. "Darlene Hunt is the one?”
Veronica nodded. "Lapwing traced her to a site on the dark web. Your research is being auctioned—all your data. And the funds are being routed through an offshore account tied to Darlene Hunt."
Kathleen sat back, stunned. "But how?" she whispered. "She’s not a scientist. How could she even access the data?"
"We don’t know yet," Veronica replied. "The theft wasn’t about the science or the threat to someone big in the oil industry. The patent—filing under EW Enterprises—was a smokescreen. It gave her time to line up buyers."
"Buyers for my life’s work," Kathleen muttered. "Dear God, the woman doesn’t possess an ounce of integrity or morality. "
“No, she doesn’t. For all her airs, she’s a common fucking thief.”
They sat in silence until Veronica leaned forward. "We need to go to the feds. They’re the only ones who have the power to close the auction down."
Kathleen nodded slowly. "Yes. We do. Tomorrow morning. I’ll take the files and show them what’s happening."
Veronica hesitated, then said quietly, "I think you should go alone."
Kathleen blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because I can’t risk exposure. I’ve spent most of my adult life off the grid, Kathleen. There are things in my past that wouldn’t stand up to official scrutiny. If I show up with you, it compromises everything—not only this, but my safety too."
Kathleen stared at her. "You’re asking me to go alone and tell them that someone is auctioning my work, based on evidence I didn’t even find myself?"
Veronica nodded. "You’ll have the files. Everything Lapwing uncovered. It’ll be enough. Just don’t say how you got it."
"And if they press?"
"You say it came from a whistleblower. An anonymous one. You’re a scientist, not a spy. They won’t push too hard."
Kathleen looked away. "I hate that you’re part of this world and can’t be open about it."
Veronica reached over and took her hand. "I dislike it too. But this is how I survive. And I’m not going to let someone hurt you because I couldn’t stay in the shadows."
Kathleen’s eyes stung, but she nodded. "Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m not happy about it."
"I know. And I’m sorry."
Later that night, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath Veronica’s sheets, Kathleen lay awake while Veronica slept.
The city light filtered through the blinds in faint lines, catching on the sharp edge of Veronica’s jaw, the curve of her shoulder.
Kathleen reached out, traced a finger lightly along her spine. She loved her.
But Veronica lived in a grey world. A world of secrets, of aliases and half-truths.
What happens when this was all over?
Would Veronica stay? Could she?