Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Laney stepped into the packed town hall, carefully carrying her laptop for her presentation. Rows of chairs filled the hall, townspeople squeezed together, a low rumble of conversation echoing off the wooden walls. She scanned the crowd, seeing local shop owners, farmers, Max, Ivy Bright representing the Bright Institute, and other Fate Mountain residents.
A dais sat at the front, where council members shuffled papers and checked microphones. The overhead lights cast a harsh glare on the meeting space, intensifying the feeling of scrutiny and tension.
“Next on the agenda: contamination concerns regarding Fate Mountain’s water supply,” the Council Chairperson said into the mic.
Taking a deep breath, Laney made her way to the council table, uncertain of how they would receive her findings. “Thank you, council members, for allowing me to speak. I have critical evidence to share,” Laney said, her heart pounding.
Laney connected her laptop to the projector, displaying chemical charts and microbial images from her analysis. The projector’s bright beam illuminated color-coded graphs, swirling microbe slides, and timelines of contamination spikes.
She briefly explained her testing methods, highlighting how the BioClean microbes mutated to form more toxic compounds. Her voice started off shaky but gained clarity with each point she uncovered on the slides. A hush settled over the audience, each face reflecting growing concern or stunned disbelief. The council members exchanged wary looks at Laney’s revelations.
“Here you can see the contamination skyrockets once BioClean is introduced—these microbes bond with dumped chemicals to create even worse toxins,” Laney said, pointing at the graph.
“I can confirm that the Bright Institute has already sent Ms. Collins’ chemical signature report from the aquifer to the county. But they have yet to respond due to it being an unidentified compound,” Ivy added.
Flint Calder stood abruptly from the front row, smoothing his impeccable suit. He strode to the makeshift podium, calmly adjusting the microphone as the crowd murmured. Flint’s confident grin and tailored appearance exuded authority. Without waiting for a formal invitation, he launched into a rebuttal. Tension thickened as he directed a pointed stare at Laney.
“Fascinating charts, Ms. Collins,” Flint said. He glanced around. “Your supervisor confirmed that your lab results have already been sent to the county. But you have yet to identify the chemical compound. If the county hasn’t considered this a crisis, why should we.” He stared at her before going on.
“You have a history of crying wolf, don’t you? You lost a job because you overreacted to a minor water issue? Are you sure you aren’t just trying to get brownie points with the full-blooded shifters at the Bright Institute?”
Laney’s stomach churned. The crowd’s attention shifted from her data to her face. Her pulse accelerated, recalling her humiliating past exit from her previous job and the half-shifter stigma she had always battled.
A ripple of whispers spread among the audience: local business owners frowned, farmers exchanged doubtful looks. Council members leaned forward, uncertain who to believe.
“Ms. Collins, is it true you were dismissed for overreacting at your last job?” a council member asked, frowning.
“She’s sensationalizing a routine microbial phenomenon for attention. Meanwhile, my BioClean system remains top-tier,” Flint said.
Laney attempted to regain the mic, flipping through her folder to find references clearing her record. The projector’s images still glowed behind her. Her voice wavered as she pointed again to her data, hoping facts spoke for themselves. She saw council members stiffening, some impatiently checking their watches.
“I... I have proof. If you would just look at these results... they’re not overreactions, they’re consistent with serious contamination,” Laney said, her voice cracking.
“No one doubts you care, Ms. Collins, but let’s be objective. You’re a half-shifter with a chip on your shoulder,” Flint said.
She could barely breathe. This was her worst nightmare realized, a public reaffirmation of her deepest fears. She saw a lifetime of being dismissed and criticized flash before her eyes.
Laney tried one last time to show crucial slides, gesturing emphatically at the projector. The council chairperson rubbed his temples, politely but firmly indicating her time was up. The overhead lights seemed harsh, intensifying the dryness in her throat and the sweat beading at her temples. She stammered a concluding statement, voice trembling.
“I... can’t make you believe me, but I swear on everything, these toxins are real,” Laney said, her voice cracking.
“We appreciate your input, Ms. Collins, but we’ll wait for the county’s assessment. Meeting adjourned,” the Council Chairperson said in a crisp tone.
Heart pounding, Laney realized the council was effectively dismissing her. Flint smiled triumphantly at the corner of her vision. Her chest ached, convinced she had failed as a scientist.
Laney snatched up her folder, tears threatening as she hurriedly unplugged her laptop from the projector. The hall’s fluorescent glare felt unforgiving. She avoided eye contact, pushing through the crowd. Ivy Bright tried to catch her eye, but Laney looked away, embarrassed. Flustered, she nearly bumped into a table before regaining her balance.
“Poor girl, she seems too eager to prove herself,” someone whispered.
“I failed... I really failed,” Laney said to herself in a near-silent choke.
The shame and outrage coiled inside her, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She fled the meeting convinced she had let down the brewery, the Bright Institute, and herself.