Chapter 4 Emery
Okay… even I admit it sounds questionable when you just blurt it out like that.
Fucking Vince.
After an interminable moment of deafening silence, where the board members at the table look at each other in question, and the ones over video do that peering-forward thing like they can see dimensionally into the conference room, they all turn their focus on me.
Waiting.
When I can’t seem to form an actual sentence, Vince elaborates, “Emery’s team has been covertly working on a compound meant to initiate hypothermia, prolong artificial cardiovascular function, and essentially bring deceased mammals back from the dead using the BioVIVE.”
Which is why I spend the next eleven hours in locked-door meetings with shouting heads of state.
Perhaps I should back up.
Just so you don’t think my whole life is a lie, I did initially start out working on surgical lasers.
But from my very first meeting with Leonard, this was the deal: As long as I continued to develop the BioVIVE, he’d continue to fund my real life’s work, a compound that can profoundly lower core body temperature, keep a heart artificially contracting, and maintain electrical signals in the brain for up to an hour, hopefully buying victims of accidents or injury enough time to get help.
It’s why I agreed to this life in the first place. My entire career, all I’ve ever wanted is to spare someone else what I lived through.
But now…? Fucking Vince.
“I can’t believe I was worried about Leonard when Vince was right there.
I should have known,” Annie says from my small office couch.
She’s dressed in a bright pink pencil skirt and a cream blouse secured at the top with a knotted men’s tie.
Her outfit says cool and trendy, fun but professional.
Her posture says she is contemplating a murder and deciding where to hide the body.
“That smug little rat. This is exactly why overconfidence is number twenty-eight on the Ick List.”
Annie’s Ick List is an ever-changing catalog of things men do/say/own that immediately rule them out as possible romantic partners.
The total was up to seventy-six at last count, and includes big things, obviously, but also random and indefensible actions like no-show socks (or, as Annie calls them, socklettes), water shoes, air guitar (see also: finger guns), frowny-face emojis during text fights, listing height in a professional bio, engine revving at stoplights, natural deodorant, and the sight of any man treading water, ever.
It’s probably why she’s single and rarely ever dates. Though watching me attempt to juggle two lives unsuccessfully might also have something to do with it.
“I admit this situation isn’t ideal,” I say, stifling a nervous laugh, “but when you really think about it, it’s not all bad. After everyone calmed down, the billionaires were pretty stoked.”
“Give me one example of a billionaire being stoked about anything that ended up being good for the rest of us.” She throws up her hands. “We are on the verge of a potential trade war with France, Emery.”
“Vince made it sound like we’ve been doing this in secret, but they all approved this research!” I protest. Quietly, I add, “In theory.”
“Yes, darling of mine, they approved compound screening! But while the BioVIVE has been approved for preclinical animal trials, Compound Y hasn’t.”
I protest this with a loud groan. “We work for a company that doesn’t even technically exist. Since when do they care about rubber stamps?
It’s the chicken-and-egg conundrum! We need proof-of-concept studies in order to get their full approval but aren’t allowed to do proof-of-concept studies until we have their full approval.
Everyone knows the system is a mess. They’ve always just looked the other way! ”
“Yeah, but they have plausible deniability,” Annie says, before slowly exhaling.
“And now everyone thinks the goal of the BioVIVE is to create zombies. If France really pushes, the board could cut our funding. We’re lucky they only paused the project until they’re able to review the data; they could insist you be removed from it entirely. ”
I sit down beside her. “They wouldn’t do that. It’s too important. Resurrection through medical science? Come on, the scientific community has been circling this possibility for decades and we’re the first to succeed? Even vive la France is too power hungry to give that up.”
She holds my gaze. “Then they’ll punt it over to Vince’s team, which does everything by the semi-broken books rather than by the completely corrupt books.”
“Is that why he did this? To get me kicked off the project and claim the glory for himself?” At the thought, I can feel my blood pressure rise. “Or does he want to shut it down so that the BioSCAN is the only technology we have?”
“I’m not sure, but you know how butthurt he is over the BioVIVE stealing his thunder. And he has never been Team Zombie. He’s against the whole Compound Y concept.”
Fuck.
Today is a mess. I can’t believe my probability dress failed me.
“His entire argument is absurd.” I stand and begin pacing. “The idea of reanimation scares people because when we hear the word, we think of divinity, not science.”
“Here we go,” Annie says, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. “Get it all out.”
“But we aren’t talking about divinity! This is the pinnacle of scientific innovation!”
Annie silently waves for me to continue.
“I mean, how do we define death?” I ask rhetorically. “The medical community can’t even agree.”
She only nods; she’s heard all this before.
“I am simply proposing that there are situations in which a patient is declared dead due to blood loss, pulse, and respiration, but could be saved by Compound Y.” I punch the air, frustrated. “I mean, fuck, Annie! Where is their curiosity? Where is their vision?”
“No idea,” Annie says dryly.
“Anyway,” I say, leaning back against my desk, “you’re right about Vince being against the resurrection studies. If he were put on the team, he’d undoubtedly derail my research. Or worse.”
“You don’t think—”
“That he’d destroy it?” I cut in. “Or that the vials of Compound Y would vanish or be mysteriously compromised? Maybe. Either way, I think we should move them until we have permission to continue the research.”
Annie goes deadly silent, her jaw slowly falling open. “Move the compound? To where? Your fridge at home in a little box marked EMERY’S MENSTRUAL VITAMINS?”
“Don’t be silly, my fridge doesn’t even lock.”
“That’s the part of the plan you’re worried about? We’re talking about a top secret experimental compound. Would having it off-site even be legal?”
“Honestly, Annie, it’s all so classified I’m not sure there are laws governing this kind of thing.” Pausing, I look over at her. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”
Annie stares mutely ahead. I think she might be dissociating. I don’t blame her. I would if I could. “What about your old fridge? Does it lock?”
Annie looks aghast. “At the vet clinic?”
I nod. Annie sold her clinic to a friend but helps out on occasion and has access whenever she needs it.
I can practically feel my eyes glimmering with hope.
Ten years ago, Annie was the neighbor I would pass nightly as I shuffled up to my apartment at midnight and she was walking down to the street to exercise one of her roughly ten thousand foster dogs.
After a few conversations initiated by one or another of her hounds escaping her grasp and bounding back up our steps for kisses and scratches, it became clear that she was not only a talented and loving veterinarian but a brilliant scientist to boot.
A light bulb crackled on in my brain, and in the end, it was surprisingly easy to tempt Annie into saving animal lives in the uber-private sector for quadruple her current salary and full payment of all her vet school loans.
“Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have pets,” she told me once. “The moment an animal becomes difficult or expensive, they want to put it down. My job is literally to save them.”
Kindred souls, we are. Judging by the look on her face now, she might be regretting that.
“Em, I am not putting Compound Y near the hands of Todd the Dumbass Vet Tech.”
“He’s not going to touch a box that’s labeled EMERY’S MENSTRUAL VITAMINS.”
“That was a joke!”
“Annie, it took me years to get this formulation perfect. I am not letting Vince get his hands on it!”
We startle as a knock lands heavy on my office doorframe just before the devil himself leans in.
With my heart racing, I glare at Vince, hating his egotistical face.
“Have I come at a bad time?” he says. I never understood where he got his vaguely British accent.
He grew up in Iowa and went to the University of Nebraska.
I once heard him brag about winning a cornhole tournament at the state fair.
A Brit he is not. “I just heard my name. Shall I return post–gossip sesh?”
My pulse thumps at his timing. “I was just saying I have the best sandwich waiting for me in the staff room fridge.”
“Ah yes, can’t let me”—holds up bony finger quotes—“ ‘get my hands on’ your sandwich.”
Annoyed, I wave him on. “Did you need something, Vince?”
His brow relaxes, hand sliding into the pocket of his dark trousers. “Just came here to offer my condolences on the downward turn of your big day.”
“Yes, given that you orchestrated it, I’m sure you’re devastated,” I say.
“ ‘Orchestrated’ seems… extreme. I was simply aiming for transparency.”
“Achieved,” I grumble.
He smiles. “A few board members have indicated they’ll advocate for me to take over the BioVIVE project for the time being. The goal is to use it to heal, not… resurrect.”
I cluck my tongue. “As long as you don’t interfere with Compound Y.”
His smile vanishes. “I assure you I have no interest in your little science project. The quicker they shut that down, the better it is for everyone. It’s beyond unethical.”
I stare at him for a beat, hoping he sees it in my eyes: You’re a petty, jealous slimeball.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Vince,” Annie tells him. “It’s beyond your level of security clearance anyway.” Another butthole pucker. Seeing it pass across his face really does lift the spirits. Annie, always a hero.
Finally, I push myself to standing. “I need to get home. I’m wiped.”
With one last inky sneer, Vince slithers off. Annie and I look at each other in dismay. “Holy shit,” she breathes.
“I don’t think he heard me say we’d move the compound, right?”
“I don’t think so. He wouldn’t let that go unmentioned.
” Annie gnaws her lip. “Em, I don’t like this.
I agree we need to do something, but I cannot keep it at the clinic.
It’s not safe. And it’s not like you can keep it at home, either.
” I open my mouth to protest and she holds up a hand to stop me from interrupting.
“You’re already going to be under greater scrutiny because, to the board, it looks like you’ve gone off and become Dr. Frankenstein. Let’s not confirm it for them.”
I mutter a petulant “Fine,” but inside I’m already plotting. We might not agree on where it can go, but Compound Y is coming with me. There’s no way I’m leaving it where Vince has access.
“I have a few things to finish up,” she says, moving to sit on the edge of my desk. “But I’ll think on a plan while you’re at dinner tonight.”
I frown in confusion. “Tonight?”
“Yeah, isn’t it—?”
It hits me like a hammer and I quickly check my watch. “Shit!”
From the presentation, to the closed-door meetings with the board, to the tongue-lashing Leonard and I received, the entire day just disappeared.
By the time I grab the compound, get through the building, to my car, through rush hour traffic and home, I’m going to be very late to my own anniversary dinner.