“Ellison! Are you alright?”
“I’m good,” Ellison says, moving the bag of ice away from her mouth.
“You are most certainlynotgood,” Lucy says. “Has anyone called the police?”
After a few seconds of silence, Dr. P says, “We can’t. No one’s allowed in here but us.”
“This is a crime,” Lucy says. “Has anyone spoken to Randall?”
“He knows,” Yeva says.
“Is he on his way?” Lucy asks.
“He’s in DC briefing the bills on our progress,” Dr. P says, referring to our name for the billionaires funding our research. “He won’t be back until tomorrow.”
Lucy lowers her brows, unsatisfied with that answer. “Has anyone made an incident report?”
“I did,” Ellison says.
“Tell me what happened,” Lucy says.
Ellison relays the same thing she told me, Lucy’s expression hardening when she hears it.
“I didn’t think one incident of heightened aggression was a coincidence, but two? We have to shut down human trials immediately.”
“I agree,” Dr. P says.
“We’re filing a police report and getting Ellison checked out at the hospital,” Lucy announces. “I’ll take her myself. Someone get Randall on the phone so we can all get on the same page.”
Mariah uses her phone to FaceTime McClain, who answers the call looking like we woke him up in his hotel room bed. When she relays what’s going on, McClain puts his glasses on and sits up on the edge of the bed.
“Okay, sorry. We were wining and dining senators until the early hours. I’m awake now. Ellison already texted me about this.”
“Have you seen her face?” Lucy asks.
Mariah moves the camera to Ellison, who smiles weakly.
“Oh, Ellison.” McClain sighs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m taking her to the hospital,” Lucy says before Ellison can answer. “She could have a facial fracture.”
“No, you can’t do that,” McClain says. “I’ll arrange for her to see someone, but not at a hospital.”
Lucy is clearly unhappy with that idea. “She needs a CT scan. That requires a hospital. I know pausing the human trials isn’t what any of us planned, but?—”
“No,” McClain interjects. “We aren’t pausing anything. We just cleared a major hurdle to secure government backing.”
“In two days, we’ve seen increased agitation, aggression, and sexual urges,” Dr. P says. “In three different human subjects. This is what happened with the rats.”
“Three of fifteen,” McClain says. “That’s only twenty percent.”
“Only twenty percent?” Lucy balks. “That’s one in five. We can’t move forward with this compound. We have to create one without the negative side effects.”
McClain furrows his brow. “That could take years. We don’t have years.”
“This isn’t right, and every one of us knows it,” Lucy says. “I won’t be part of this. It’s not just data manipulation, which is unethical. These people could suffer worse side effects. They could die. There’s no amount of money that makes up for that.”
I’m out of my element here. I don’t dare speak because it’s not my place.
