“Welcome to the future. When we get back to my apartment I’ll give you an article on microbivores written more than a decade ago by a futurist named Robert Freitas. He predicted all this back when molecular manufacturing was nothing but a pipe dream. It’s pretty exhaustive.”
“I bet that’s fun reading,” George said, unable to resist a bit of sarcasm. Luckily it went over Pia’s head, as she had returned her attention back to the microbivores image. From her expression and posture, he could tell how proud she was about what she was doing.
“I think you’ll find it fascinating.”
“So doing this is what the head-hunters brought you out here to Boulder for?”
“No. What brought me out here was that the CEO, Berman, had read about Rothman’s work on salmonella that I was involved with. You see, from an operational standpoint, microbivores are having a problem with bacteria that have a flagellum. You know, little whiplike tails, like salmonella has. When the microbivores ingest a salmonella, the flagellum doesn’t get into the digestion chamber but rather gets detached and floats off, and the flagellum can cause as much immunologic havoc as the intact bacteria. With my experience with salmonella in Rothman’s lab, they thought maybe I could help with this problem.”
“Were you able to help?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it and have done some work toward a solution. I do have an idea of how to solve it, but when I learned of the biocompatibility issue, I got more interested in that. The flagellum problem is mechanical, the biocompatibility is more intellectual. I find it more of a challenge.”
As Pia talked, George couldn’t help but ruminate again of how he had ended up at UCLA.
“When did Nano actually make you the offer?”
“The offer? I don’t know, late June, I guess, just before graduation? Why are you asking about that again?”
George’s frustration surged again — again being reminded that his whole move to Los Angeles had been a wild-goose chase. He should have stayed in New York. Luckily, before he could say anything, his attention was diverted. The door to the lab swung open, and a woman in a lab coat strode into the room. George regarded her. She was striking, athletic-looking, and taller than Pia, with light blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She had a decidedly imperious air, and her demeanor was not friendly as she looked first at Pia, then at George, and back to Pia. The blond woman referred to a clipboard she was carrying. George felt immediately uncomfortable.
“This is Mr. Wilson?”
“Yes, Mariel. Dr. Wilson, actually,” Pia said.
George stepped forward and stretched out a hand. “Nice to meet you. George Wilson.” He assumed this had to be the boss Pia had mentioned.
The woman merely nodded, and George withdrew his hand.
“Mr. Berman is on his way back. He may even have landed. He doesn’t like visitors to Nano, which is why they are not encouraged. I thought you understood this. I would hazard to guess that he will be especially displeased about young men coming to visit you, Pia. We are counting on your being productive here at Nano. You were recruited for very specific reasons.”
George looked over at Pia. What did she mean by that?
“George and I were med students together in New York. He’s a resident at UCLA, and he’s staying with me as a houseguest for a couple of days. I can’t imagine Mr. Berman would find that irregular in the slightest. It is not going to have any effect on my productivity.”
Houseguest? thought George. That was the first encouraging news about where he was going to stay, but he kept quiet. Tension sparked between these two women, and it was obviously related to Berman and Pia. Perhaps his intuition and vague fears had been justified, knowing what he did about Zachary Berman. Too often George had seen how a lot of men reacted to Pia, himself included. And a brand-new VW sports car seemed a bit beyond the pale for any casual boss-employee relationship.
“What exactly is Mr. Wilson doing here in the lab?”
“I’m just checking on several of my biocompatibility experiments that I started last night,” Pia said. “I just wanted to be sure they were running properly. I knew it would be quick. He’s merely accompanying me. We’re almost done.”
Mariel Spallek glanced at George and gave him a look that made the discomfort all the more intense. The situation reminded him that there was an unfortunate history of Pia’s ability to get him into trouble.
“I’ll be sure to let Mr. Berman know you’re around.” Mariel looked over at Pia as she left, but George wondered if she meant him.
“What was that about?” George questioned. “Or shouldn’t I ask? She seemed to be implying something about you and Berman or am I reading more into it than I should?”
“It’s probably better that you don’t ask,” Pia said without elaboration. She was pleased. Now she was certain that Berman would hear that she had a gentleman visitor. Perhaps, as she had hoped, it would cool Berman’s ardor. As far as what George might be thinking subsequent to this episode with Mariel, the issue didn’t even enter her mind.
CHAPTER 4
The pleasant sense of calm that Zachary Berman had felt during the plane flight had dissipated completely. It wasn’t that there’d been any hitch in the arrival and delivery, and everything had run smoothly at the general aviation terminal at the airport. The dignitaries were driven in one of Nano’s Suburbans to company headquarters, where they would be set up in their accommodations. The involuntary guests were discreetly carted off the plane by means of a catering truck and were also at Nano, in less comfortable surroundings than their compatriots. Berman impatiently demanded that his driver get him to his office as soon as possible. Berman’s unofficial arrangement with the airport allowed him easy access to all areas, and his car was able to take him right off the tarmac and out onto the airport’s perimeter road.
With Whitney Jones trailing behind him in a separate limo, Berman entered the Nano facility through an unmarked private vehicular entrance. Once at the proper building, an inconspicuous outer door opened into a compact lobby, where two armed guards stood at an inner door, on either side of the iris scanner that everyone, Berman included, had to negotiate before gaining access to the core of the facility. Passing through the scanner and hustling along, Berman reached his office to find Mariel Spallek waiting for him.
“How was the flight?” asked Mariel.
“Who’s the guy with Pia?” Berman demanded, ignoring the question.
Mariel knew Zachary would latch on to that part of the email message she had sent as Berman drove in. He wouldn’t tell her about the status of the four new subjects; he would neglect to bring her up to date on the state of the financing negotiations; he wouldn’t ask her about progress in the multiple trials that were going on in the private and the public areas of the facility; he would want to know about Pia and the young man who had accompanied her here to Nano.
“His name is George Wilson and he’s a radiology resident at UCLA. He checked out.”
“What’s he doing here?” Mariel could tell that Zachary was trying to be calm, but he was failing miserably. He was like a lion in heat. He picked up memos and reports from his desk, feigning interest in them, but his eyes were elsewhere, darting across his desk and back. This piece of news about George Wilson was driving him crazy, and a part of Mariel relished his discomfort. She didn’t know the nature of Pia and George’s relationship, but she didn’t mention that. She was content to allow Zachary to think the worst.
“She said he was visiting for a few days. They were classmates at Columbia Medical School. The background check we ran on Pia before we hired her mentioned him; they had been friends for the duration of the four years. The exact nature of the friendship had not been mentioned. What had been mentioned was that he had been involved in that kidnapping business.”