The elevator call buttons look ordinary enough but are fitted with undetectable biometric scanners. As Claire casually presses the one indicatingUP, the fingerprint of her right index finger is read and the doors to the second elevator on the left automatically open. Once we’re inside, another scanner verifies our identities, and a hidden panel on the back wall slides open, revealing a short hallway.
When the elevator is called again, the car will be empty, even though it never left the ground floor.
We continue through a door requiring simultaneous retinal scan and handprint clearance, down two flights of metal stairs, to a desk manned by another security guard, through a solid steel door, along a lengthy, concrete tunnel, and into an open, clean, centralized workspace surrounded by a series of modern rooms and laboratories.
Goodbye, SurgOptix. Hello, BioNEX: the actual place where I spend most of my waking hours.
A robotic British voice floats through overhead speakers just inside the entrance: “Good morning, Dr. Martín.”
“Morning, Rob,” I call back. Security within the BioNEX headquarters is in the form of an AI scanner with a posh accent I call Robert Pattinson. The executives boringly named him AISS, which stands for “artificial intelligence security system,” which they pronounce as “Ace” but I find it impossible to believe anyone looks at that acronym and doesn’t seeASS.
As Tom and Claire peel away to return to their cubicles, my best friend and collaborator, Dr. Annabella Rodriguez, waits outside the conference room. She gives me a quick, tight hug. “How are you feeling?” she asks quietly.
I take a restorative gulp of my fresh coffee and smile at her like we aren’t about to blow health science wide open. “Eh, you know, pretty good.”
“Ready to share the most exciting medical technology ever known to humankind, you mean.”
I laugh through another sip. “You always accuse me of being hyperbolic. I was trying to keep it low-key.”
“Low-key is good.” She bends a little to meet my gaze, serious now. Annie is a steel-coated marshmallow—all bark and (usually) no bite—but can be truly terrifying when she wants to be. “Because you know we can’t talk about Compound Y.”
I swallow, quickly shaking my head. Today we’re discussing the project that is ready for scrutiny and staying far,faraway from the one that isn’t. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Don’t let Leonard bait you into discussing it.”
I scoff. My boss, the head of Research and Development, Leonard Montrell, gets even more worked up than I do about this stuff. But we both know we must stick to the plan today. “Let him try. I am a brick wall. A concrete tomb.”
“He saw Honey’s data,” she admits with a wince. “He’s chomping at the bit.”
This throws me. “How? When?”
“Last night. I didn’t want to stress you out before today’s meeting, but I couldn’t not tell you, either. I was finishing the post hoc analyses when he floated into my office like a fucking ghost and saw the P value.”
I groan. “Fuck.”
“It’s great data. Compound Y works. You’ve done it, Em. This isn’t a bad thing… we just need to keep Leonard from bringing it up today.”
“Right. It’s too early. Besides, we have plenty to talk about without it.”
She nods, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, Em. I can’t even tell you.”
“I’m so proud of both of us.” I give her a quick, tight hug and then step back, adjusting my blazer. “Think we’ll make Vince’s butthole pucker into an angry pinhole today?” Vince is Dr. Vincent Barker, scientist colleague, and—not to be dramatic—my nemesis. I don’t say that kind of thing lightly, but this is a man who habitually undermines subordinates, steals credit for every smart idea, and intentionally holds back information to make others look dumb in meetings. Ruining his day would absolutely make mine.
Annie’s belly laugh fills the sterile hallway. “Oh, without question.”
To the outside world, Annie is a celebrated veterinarian who oversees two very successful clinics. To the few people who know the truth, she’s sold her vet practice and now works in a secret office far beneath the SurgOptix building. She’s been my ride-or-die since we met almost ten years ago, and has been the right hand to my lefty throughout the final development of my life’s work: the BioVIVE.
We turn to walk together, and by the time I’m standing at the head of the conference table, my nerves have fallen away and the lingering guilt over my forgotten anniversary has been conveniently shoved to the back of my mind, replaced entirely by excitement about the life-changing presentation I’m about to give.
“Good morning, everyone,” I say to the people gathered around the conference table. “Or good afternoon and good evening,” I add for the participants from the other sides of the world joining us from the video wall. Readying myself, I look at each person in turn, my gaze lingering for a moment on that of my sharp-eyed curly-haired best friend and colleague now sitting near the end of the long table.
It’s really happening, our eyes silently communicate.
Finally, I give a bright smile. “Who’s ready to talk about miracles?”
3EMERY
Covertly wiping my palms on the fabric of my dress, I turn to the laptop to begin the presentation. “As you all know, Dr. Vincent Barker’s team is close to launching the BioSCAN into the public sector. This technology has the potential to replace not only X-rays, CTs, and MRIs but potentially biopsies, genetic testing, and even diagnostic blood work. It will undoubtedly revolutionize medicine.”
