Chick Flick

by Noga Porat

  “Mr. Cole, I am not interested in doing any other work than lab work. I love my job! It is what keeps me going. What’s really bothering you? Stop being so elusive and tell me directly what’s wrong.”

  “I am not your friend, Scarlet. Don’t push me.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked away from me.

  “I am sorry,” I said. “I act on reason, not simply to comply blindly, and if you have something to explain to me, I want the details so I can make up my own mind about what to do.”

  “Sometimes it’s wise to listen to people who have your back.”

  I did not smile. “You just told me you’re not my friend.”

  “I am not your enemy, either, Scarlet,” he said. “I need you to do what I ask for the sake of Roseword’s whole identity. Shut down Spells, find another project to work on. You are young; you’ll have other ideas. There’s still much to learn.”

  “To my understanding, Roseword represents kindness, as well as clear, progressive, common sense thinking. He is not arrogant and fake like the people who work for him, thinking they can push anyone around,” I said, my eyes glinting with disgust.

  “Scarlet, have you heard back from your intended collaborations?”

  I bristled at his change of topic. I wasn’t prepared to discuss this, but I wanted to sound confident—not like a pushover.

  “We’re waiting on an answer from both,” I said. “Any day now, I’m sure.”

  “But are you in contact with them?”

  “Well, Todd is keeping up with the business end, why do you ask?” I didn’t want to admit that we hadn’t heard back from Debauchee or that we were scheduled to meet with Caroline.

  “Because I want you to think hard, Scarlet; figure it out. The clues are there,” he said with a wink, despite his threatening tone.

  “What clues? What are you talking about?”

  This man was so cagey, I couldn’t stand to be around him another minute.

  He remained silent.

  “Say something, please,” I begged.

  “All I can say is, be discreet and don’t act carefree. Your science must be your first priority if you truly want to achieve your goals and act responsibly. If you won’t agree to close Spells, then use your scientific mind and do it quickly. Time is of the essence. Find your passion in the darkness, not the light. Good luck.”

  He stood up and bid me farewell.

  Each time I crossed paths with this man, I felt more and more ill at ease. It felt as though my heart was struggling to beat properly for the rest of the day. It took all my strength to lift myself out of the chair in the coffee shop and I plopped straight into bed when I arrived home. He could seriously qualify as a Dementor from the Harry Potter series.

  Soon, the time came for our meeting with Caroline and Roseword. After my talk with Cole, I thought he would change his mind, but thankfully, he was still on board. He wanted to meet Caroline and Nikola, tour the factory, and see the injection machine he had heard so much about. I wasn’t much for meddling, but I was glad he was joining us; he was such a successful businessman, and surely, he’d know what to say if an opportunity presented itself.

  William even gave me a good luck charm before I left for the meeting: a golden egg. I promised him I’d keep it in my purse at all times, and I knew he would be watching over me.

  Bright and early that morning, we walked into RICPCom’s headquarters, and were greeted by Caroline and Nikola. It was nice to meet them in person after having e-mailed each other all this time. We walked into the large conference room and were offered tea and coffee, which we politely declined, before David, another researcher, who worked closely with Nikola, joined us.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” said Caroline.

  “We couldn’t be happier to be here,” I said.

  “Nikola tells me you have made serious progress since we last spoke, and that you have been keeping her updated,” said Caroline.

  I smiled and nodded; they looked pleased.

  “We’re here to present our latest results,” said Todd, “and we really hope you’ll like what you see.”

  Todd began the presentation, the same one that we had prepared for NavoLogic. I was looking for any hints or signs that they had already seen this presentation.

  As Todd was talking about the motivations of automating the process and saving on incubation space and electricity and, of course, decreasing the manhandling of the newborn chicks, I interrupted.

  “Caroline, may I ask you, were you here when they began to develop the injection machine?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, smiling. “Those were exciting times, indeed. We have the prototype right outside.”

  “How did they sell it to the poultry corporations? What advantages did it have compared to manual vaccinations?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t so different from the advantages you are describing here,” she said.

  “Would you say they mainly bought it for the money they saved?” I asked.

  “I think that is fair to say. If it had not saved them money, they probably would not have gone for it. That is why you need to make sure your product does not cost more than one-fifth of a cent per egg.”

  “By ‘cost,’ you mean what it will cost us, right?” Todd asked.

  “Yes. I mean it should cost you no more than one-fifth of a cent and then your profit could be from one-tenth to three-tenths of a cent an egg. It depends on how it will fit in with our injection process and costs. Those are the numbers we came up with when we were working on our own method.”

  “Were?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” she said with a frown. “Yes, we’ve given up on the research. We tested two other DNA methods, both of which worked perfectly, but one took four hours an egg, which was simply too long for multiple sampling, and the other was 95 percent accurate, but too expensive.”

  “You mentioned that it has to be done within fifteen minutes. Why is that?” asked Roseword.

  “This is because if you want to reach the broiler industry, it is a huge number of eggs. If you do not process a tray within fifteen minutes, you will not have time to take them out and put them all back into the incubator in one day. The incubator is built like the inside of a spiral shell, so it takes time to just get all the eggs out and ready for injection. It’s a lengthy and vulnerable process because each time you take them out of incubation, you risk the trays falling and eggs breaking. And, the more time they spend out of the incubator, the colder they get, and that affects the developing chick,” answered Caroline.

  “The good news is we can do it in less than one-fifth of a cent and within fifteen minutes,” Todd said, gearing the talk back to the presentation. “We may be able to do it in less time, if Scarlet keeps up the great work.”

  David, Nikola’s researcher, didn’t seem like he believed it. Caroline asked Todd to go on with his presentation, and he did.

  When he got to the animated graphic, David interrupted again: “You’re saying your method works like a switch? So if it is female, the light is ON, and if it is male, the light is OFF, right?”

  “Yes,” I answered, growing impatient.

  “But what happens if I am not seeing light because of another reason? Perhaps there is not enough of the extracted sample to test it? Can you verify that there is enough of the sample in the tube to be read?” he continued.

  I tried to remember that you catch more flies with honey.

  “That’s a good question, David,” I said, and saw Todd nodding approvingly. “Yes, I can. I have markers that output a different signal, which indicates how much sample is present and this is used as controls.”

  Todd passed quickly through the Cost Projections slide. I wanted to somehow convince them to take us under their wing. I wanted to be part of their team, even if they were far away. I wanted to be able to consult with other scientists regarding my work, to have someone with whom to go over the protocols and the experiments. I didn’t want to work
in a vacuum anymore.

  Now it was Roseword’s time to impress. He slickly pitched the notion of cleantech values, touting the financial gain that was to be made by marketing something with “green” technology.

  “You can ask for more on that alone,” he said. “Same with tuna cans and dolphin-safe labeling. Big poultry should pay a hefty amount to get this edge.”

  “Well, sir,” she said, grinning, and I could tell the Roseword charm had worked on her, “I will certainly try to make that pitch to my superiors. It is an interesting idea.”

  “Public opinion can be very persuasive regarding these delicate matters,” said Roseword, who then leaned back in his chair, looking like he had just said what he’d come to say.

  Nikola was clearly impressed, but wanted to know if a prototype could be done within a year instead of our projected two. I balked, but admitted that if we got more brains and hands on deck, we could probably get it done.

  “I agree,” said Caroline, “if we put our heads together, we can do this, and fast. We’ll need to get it out by next year.”

  After the presentation, Nikola proceeded to give us the tour of the facility. First, she showed us the prototype of the needle that proved that the eggs can be vaccinated. It was in a glass frame and engraved with the date at the bottom: 1991. It didn’t seem so long ago, I thought.

  I realized why every time I talked with an elder veterinarian or farmer about my project, I could hear the excitement in their voice. They’d seen vaccination become automated firsthand. Their excitement had worn off on me and they’d led me to believe anything was possible; that we would indeed be able to sort chicks while they were still in the eggs. We wouldn’t even have to stop at that; many more good things could become reality.

  We walked on and saw the injection machine, which Roseword quickly approached. I could see the excitement in his eyes and I could tell he was imagining the same thing I was at that moment: that we could get this machine to extract a sample for sexing.

  One of the technicians showed us how the machine worked, the various reading trays and the sizes. I was sad to hear that the development of Nikola’s method had been stopped. I know she had put in a lot of work into it and had probably hoped, just as I had, that it would be successful. It isn’t a good feeling when you don’t get the results you want in science, but nature has its strict rules.

  As we continued on the tour of the factory and facilities, Caroline walked beside me while the others followed behind us. She told me that she was very surprised by my having opened a company on my own, and my having the courage to believe in my own research. She said that when she was a young woman of my age, she was scared to death and could not have done what I was doing now.

  “Do not get me wrong,” I said, “I am scared to death!” We both laughed at that. They saw us to the door and we parted. Caroline said she’d be in touch after running things by management and the CEO, and that she hoped they could make us an offer within a few weeks.

  We made plans to meet up with Caroline at a local park later in the day. For now, Roseword and I went to a local sandwich place and sat at a high-top table, looking out the window, happily watching the passersby.

  “Do you think we should have asked them about Debauchee and NavoLogic?”

  “Well, did Caroline mention she knew him when you talked to her last?” he asked.

  “She was surprised to learn about the heartbeat method because she said she knew them well, but I don’t know if she knows Debauchee personally.”

  “In any case, if she knows them well, she would have heard something about their plans,” Roseword observed.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I know what you’re hinting at, Scarlet,” he said.

  We were quiet for a moment, the notion of how fragile our trust is in these people was hanging over us like a cloud.

  “Do you really think someone wants to bury the project?” I asked him.

  The expression on his face became grim.

  After I had talked to William, I had reached out to Roseword to get him on the case; I knew it was old hat for him to hire private investigators for various business matters, and this would be easy enough for him to look into.

  “I haven’t found anything that leads to Caroline yet, Scarlet. But my men did find something.”

  I blanched.

  “Your phone in your apartment was tampered with; it’s been tapped.”

  The world started spinning. The joggers outside looked like they were blissfully unaware of everything—not just of me, but of every little implication of every horrible thing in the entire world. How badly I wanted to be on the other side of the glass window.

  “What!?”

  “You’ve definitely been compromised in some way at home. I didn’t want to worry you, but I felt I had to tell you for your safety,” he said.

  “Well, gee, thanks,” I said, becoming angry—but clearly, at the wrong person.

  He didn’t take it personally.

  “There’s one bright spot,” he said. “The lab. They can’t get you in there. Be thankful you rented a bench in a professional lab; otherwise, they would have gotten to you, no problem.”

  I told him about the time my sample had been contaminated.

  “Could that have been their work?” I asked Roseword.

  He nodded. “They could have persuaded someone from inside to do it. Or, more likely, whoever fills the equipment orders for the building.”

  “When did this start?”

  “According to what they found, the phone tracking began shortly after your initial contact with RICPCom,” he said. “But again, there’s nothing that leads back to RICPCom.”

  “Who else could it be? Who is the snitch?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “You’ve met a lot of people since you started this venture, Scarlet.”

  We talked more of what he knew, which wasn’t much. He knew that everything appeared all clear at Todd’s home, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though I didn’t like the idea that someone was after me, at least I didn’t have a family to protect. I thought of the golden egg in my purse, and thought that, at least, I had William and Roseword looking out for me.

  “Do you think RICPCom will buy Spells?” I asked, braving a slight change of topic.

  “I think they will,” he said, nodding. “Especially if we help them strike a big deal with the pharma company. Your work shows a lot of promise, and they’ve done their due diligence. I think everyone will come away happy if they buy us now.”

  “Will I be able to pursue my other applications if they buy the chick-sexing solution?” I asked.

  “It all depends how you patent it, how you sell it, and if you get further investments.”

  I was enjoying this private business-strategy class. My appetite had picked up again, and I even started to peck at my sandwich.

  “But if I sell, I can invest that money in myself to do the other things I want to do, right?” I asked.

  “You could potentially do that, but you really shouldn’t invest in your own ideas. Kind of a no-no in the investment world,” he said.

  “Really?” I still had so much to learn.

  “Really. You want to get others interested pretty quickly; you can’t succeed in a vacuum like that,” he said. “Furthermore, investors like crowds. They like to know everyone is putting down money on the same thing they are; it provides them with the reassurance they are looking for.”

  “But then if you win, you end up sharing the prize.”

  “I would rather share a prize than take all the risk upon myself. Some companies can go a long time without showing profit.”

  I shook my head. “I thought I saw something today,” I said, slightly disappointed. “You seemed as excited about the ethics of the project as the monetary gains. Why bother to gamble, if not? Is it the thrill? You have everything you need already, and you will never want for anything.”

  “Rich people like to dream too, Scarlet
,” he said. “I need to be a part of something. That need didn’t disappear when I became rich.”

  Later, Caroline and Todd joined us at the park, and we all strolled alongside a stream carpeted on both sides with beautiful green grass. I decided to tell Todd what was going on as soon as Roseword had figured out who had tapped my phone. But not now, there was no reason to break his reverie, since his privacy wasn’t compromised.

  I had to be sure that nothing had been tampered with while we were gone. I called Roseword and asked him to meet me at the beachfront at the end of the day to talk, and then went straight to the lab to test my materials.

  When I was in the lab, I smiled at everyone at work, as if my work there were just business as usual. I sat down and carefully checked my notebook. I set up a few tests to make sure the materials were good. I also ordered a cabinet that I could lock, so that I could then put everything in there and lock it each night before I left. I bought a cool blue ‘Speed DialTM’ lock for the fridge as well.

  I kept working on my tests, but I was so tense that I kept pausing to look behind me. I thought I may have just developed a tic. My lab mates were there for most of the day, and I was grateful for their company; I felt like if I had been alone, I would have been in danger. Like someone would come out of the shadows and snuff me out. I’d never felt in danger before. I felt my smile freeze on my face while my thoughts were on fire, that absolute contrast. I constantly worried how fast I could cross back over to the safe side, to being me again. All I wanted to do was my usual worry-free research that I loved. I had never asked for this.

  In the evening I headed over to the beachfront to meet with Roseword. We met on the sand, a naturally surveillance-free zone. The salt spray crashed against the shoreline, and I thought with a bit of wry humor that it was the perfect setting for the dramatic situation that my life had quickly become. I looked out at the roiling sea.

  “Am I in danger?” I asked, remembering the paranoia that had engulfed me in the lab.