"Are you a scientist?" I asked.
"I have a PhD in cell biology and molecular physiology. However, for the last five years I've worked in CE's marketing division."
I never thought I'd miss Dr. Blumenthal or be concerned about his fate, but I couldn't help wondering if I had anything to do with his sudden departure.
"I helped organize CE's Rocky Mountain World Development Conference in Aspen," she said. "I remember seeing you there."
"Oh." I didn't remember seeing her. I supposed from a distance she'd look like one of the hundred or so "power women" attendees. "I'm not sure what you want from me at the Ellsworth Retreat Conference. All I did in Aspen and Mondari was walk around and look friendly and talk to a few people."
"This time we were thinking you might give a talk at one of the dinners."
"A talk?" Terror spread through me. "About what?"
"About what it was like to transition into being a Hyper, perhaps. We thought the people would appreciate a more entertaining and inspirational message than the usual dull corporate-speak."
"I don't think I'd be very entertaining."
"Max Emanuel does."
"So...is this, like, an order?"
"It's a request, of course. And surely not too much to ask, considering that two million dollar bonus you recently received. Though I would point out that this kind of service from you is written in your contract."
"Where? I don't remember seeing it.'"
"It's in the small print."
I didn't detect any humor in her thin smile. Suddenly, I was missing Dr. Blumenthal again. He'd asked me to do some uncomfortable things, but if I squirmed too much he had always been willing to step back with a dry joke and grant me some wiggle room. I wasn't seeing a lot of wiggle room between Dr. Eberhart's chilly blue eyes. If she was being facetious about the "small print," her face offered no clue. I was beginning to wish I wasn't wearing Andrydox. Maybe I would've made a more favorable impression on her.
"Okay," I said. "I guess you have a point about the two million dollars."
"Very generous on Dr. Blumenthal's part. I wouldn't have offered you a penny myself."
Whatever remained of my fading hope that Dr. Eberhart might not be so bad fled the room. As Michael Jordan once said to Larry Bird and Magic Johnson: "There's a new sheriff in town." The kind of sheriff, I suspected, who would shoot first and ask questions later.
"I'm curious," she said. "Do you plan to continue your business relationship with CE after your present contract expires?"
"I don't think so."
"So where do you see yourself in five or ten years?"
"I was thinking of becoming a professional basketball player."
I thought that might shake her up. For the first time she smiled as if actually amused.
"Are you being serious?"
"Why not?" I tried for a friendly smile. "Don't you think I could make it?"
"I have no idea. I don't follow sports. But my understanding is that the odds of playing professional sports are astronomically unfavorable as well as being short-lived. What about your education? Do you intend to continue pursuing an advanced degree?"
"I guess so. I'm not sure when." It was strange being grilled about my future plans by a stranger I knew had absolutely no interest in me as a person.
"Dr. Blumenthal gave you the speech about a career with CellEvolve, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"You didn't find him persuasive?"
"Not really." I was starting to decide that I had no particular reason to be polite to this lady. What could she do if she didn't like my attitude – fire me?
"What do you think of the idea of running your own lab?" she asked.
I remembered the thrill I'd felt when Dr. Blumenthal had first ran that wondrous vision past me. The thrill was gone now.
"I would like to, but not with CellEvolve."
"Why?"
I didn't like the idea of getting into that with Dr. Eberhart, but then again, I couldn't see any reason to BS her.
"Well, I mean..." I searched for the right words. "CellEvolve doesn't seem to care much about, you know, ethics?"
"Why would you think that?"
"It's just...some things that happened."
"The kind of things that happen in the real world, I would guess. You don't get a lot of that in high school or even university."
One of my pet peeves was when adults talked about young people not appreciating the hard reality of the "real world."
"If you're in a lab in any college or most pharmaceutical companies you'll be working with your hands tied. You could come up with the greatest product in history and you'll have to bow and scrape for years to get it developed and into the marketplace. Any lab but CE."
"You have a magic wand?"
Dr. Eberhart didn't respond to my smile. "A magic pathway, you might say. I've worked for Merck and Baxter and while they have plenty of clout with regulatory agencies, even they can't match CellEvolve. CE has elevated the control process to an art form."
"I guess the FDA didn't get the memo on that magic pathway with Revive since it never got approved for MES." Zing!
"But it did get approved for several other treatments that should prove highly profitable." My smug smile drooped under her flat, unperturbed gaze. "What I'm saying is that persuading government agencies to do certain things is a necessity in today's business world. For example, Merck convincing the CDC to destroy batches of vaccine files or Synagro getting the EPA to okay bio-sludge. Some might call that kind of persuasion unethical. I call it taking care of business."
"Jeez...where did you say you got your degree, at the Machiavelli School of Science?"
Dr. Eberhart laughed. It was a cool, light, airy sound – like a young girl finding something unexpected. Or an executioner's amused chuckle drifting on the wind through an outdoor gallows.
"MIT, actually," she said. "You're a clever boy, Aiden. That could work to your advantage. Or prove your undoing."
"Maybe, but I'm still not working for CE after my eighteenth birthday."
"We'll see. In the meantime, you belong to us."
IT WAS an awkward moment: my twenty-eight going on twenty-nine year old girlfriend meeting Meredith and Ragnar for the first time. The first time I'd taken Jenny to see any of my friends or anywhere around people who could identify us as a "romantic couple." She'd taken some convincing – torn between salivating over the prospect of meeting Ragnar and being judged for dating a minor – but I convinced her that "Rag" wasn't like that.
Ragnar had promised me there would be "no judgment" from anyone, including his two guest couples – Gary Bascombe, a King's backup guard, and his wife, Belinda – but I definitely saw Meredith's mouth twitch toward a scowl before forcing a smile when they shook hands. Jenny's fleeting frown made me think she noticed it, too.
Meredith wasn't all that much warmer toward Kayla when Jim proudly presented her in the marble entranceway, but her smile was a few degrees less strained.
Gary Bascombe was a six-four white dude who looked like a clean-cut, handsome, all-American model for a conservative or Christian magazine. His wife, who was around my six-foot height, was like his female doppelganger. They were so clean-looking I thought you could polish silverware on them.
Ragnar suggested we play a little two on two to work up an appetite. I was a bit nervous about playing in front of Jenny but I also loved the prospect of playing with a couple of pros. Meredith surprised me by expressing an interest in playing, too, if Gary's wife, Belinda, or maybe Jenny or Kayla wanted to make it three on three. Belinda and Kayla declined, but Jenny – after a questioning glance at me – agreed.
"I didn't know you played," I said to her.
"I don't," she said. "Not since junior high, anyway."
This changed the equation to more of a goofing around scenario, which was kind of disappointing since I wanted a chance to go semi-seriously with Gary Bascombe. I hadn't seen him play much, but I thought he was a
good outside shooter and decent ball handler with some athletic ability. And he was a professional. Even an average guy in the NBA was superior to the rest of us.
It was Ragnar, Jim, and Meredith against me, Gary, and Jenny – playing half-court. Meredith took out the ball, tossing it to Ragnar near the top of the key who drilled it into Jim, who'd backed me into within five feet of the rim. His turn-around jump shot looked like a cinch, but I managed to partly block it and corral it before the ball bounced out of bounds. I dribbled it out. Gary cut hard to the basket, getting an unexpected couple of steps on Ragnar, and I delivered a pass on the money to his outstretched hands. He surprised me by finishing with a strong two-handed dunk just beyond Ragnar's outstretched swiping hand.
"I didn't realize you were Paul Westphal," I called to him. Gary grinned.
"So you have been studying the classics," Ragnar laughed.
He passed it in to Meredith, who started backing in to the basket, faked a shot that got Jenny in the air – a surprisingly high launch from her muscular legs – and then leisurely dribbled in toward the basket. When I switched off to defend her she lobbed it over my head high above the rim where Ragnar was waiting on coiled legs. But so was Gary Bascombe, fronting the Kings' superstar. They both went up and Gary tapped the ball away. I couldn't believe this guy didn't get more playing time. He could actually play with Ragnar!
On the next play, I passed the ball to Jenny, who tried a jump shot from one corner that was fiercely contested by Meredith. The ball bounced off the backboard into Ragnar's big hands.
The game continued, mostly trading scores, not nearly as mellow as I'd thought it would be. It was weird, but I thought Meredith was the one setting the serious tone. She wasn't laughing or kidding around at all as she shot over or drove around an off-balanced Jenny. It was hardly fair. You couldn't be expected to do well in a sport if you hadn't played in years. I wanted to find some way to get Jenny out of this "womano et womano", but Jenny she lowered her head bulldog-like and accepted Meredith's challenge. Some body collisions and hacked arms followed, but neither Meredith nor Jenny cried "foul." Just when I thought they might start swinging at each other, Ragnar called timeout so we could go eat the hamburgers and hotdogs Gary's wife had been frying up on the sidelines.
I jogged over to the poolside bathroom and found Meredith waiting for me with a guilty frown when I emerged.
"What's with you?" I asked her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm not all that happy about your new girlfriend being thirteen years older than you, and apparently not giving a damn that you could go to jail because of her."
"She could go to jail, too. Besides, she'd only twenty-eight and I'll soon be seventeen, so..."
"I don't think that changes my point."
"She's a good person. She just couldn't resist my charms." I tried to smile through my annoyance.
"I think a good person, especially an adult person, could."
Sometimes Meredith, for all her money and good looks, made me think she came from a nunnery. Someplace where a mother superior smacks your knuckles when she finds you reading Nabokov's Lolita.
Now Jenny was striding up, and man, did she look pissed.
"What's your problem?" she demanded.
"What's my problem?" Meredith turned squarely to face her. "Am I the one dating a sixteen year old boy?"
They stood eye to eye, nearly the same 5' 10" height. Meredith definitely spent time in a gym, but she looked almost willow-like standing next to Jenny.
"Uh," I said. "It would be nice if you two would try to be friends."
"I'm your friend." Merry tapped her shapely chest, and then jabbed a finger at Jenny. "She's exploiting you."
I had never seen Jenny's face go that red – except, well, in the heat of, uh, our passion.
"You seriously think it's irrelevant that Aiden's hyper?" Jenny asked with a teapot hiss. "That he's the exploited one simply because of his age? Have you ever read anything about the lives of hypers? Of the power they exercise over others?"
"What are you saying? That you're this poor, helpless little girl caught in his hyper-web?"
"Why – are you jealous?"
Meredith swung on her. Jenny reacted instantly and firmly, blocking Merry's blow at its halfway point and then gripping her forearm and swinging her around into a strange embrace – Jenny's arm curling around Meredith's throat. Jenny leaned back, dragging Meredith slowly to her knees and into her lap like a child being comforted. If being strangled comforting.
"Choke on that, bitch!" Jenny snarled.
I moved toward them, not sure this was reality or I was watching an old Jerry Springer video. Ragnar beat me to them.
"Hey, hey, hey," he said, stooping to gently pry Jenny's arm free from Meredith's throat. Jenny didn't appear to resist. Her arm popped free and Ragnar helped her to her feet. I thought he was exercising a lot of restraint considering Jenny had been choking his girlfriend. He released her gently, looking from me to Meredith.
"What the hell happened?"
"They had a disagreement," I said.
Jenny dusted herself off while Meredith rubbed her throat, her amber eyes flashing death rays at my girlfriend and maybe a few at Ragnar. Jim and Kayla approached – Jim giving me "WTF?" looks, Kayla appearing shocked and shaking her head in disbelief at Jenny. Gary and Belinda stayed back, exchanging bewildered glances.
"Thank you for having us over," Jenny said to Ragnar. "I've been a great fan of yours and it was great to meet you. But we're leaving."
"Oh, come on. I'm sure we can work this out."
"If I stay, the only thing I might work out is your self-righteous girlfriend's face."
Ragnar's smile hardened. "Okay. Then maybe you should leave."
"Thank you again for inviting us." Jenny started past me, but then turned back to her friend and Jim. "You guys can stay. But I need to go."
"Oh, we'll be leaving with you," said Kayla, with an evil glance at Meredith. "Thanks, Ragnar. I enjoyed meeting you. And you, too, Belinda and Gary."
Jim mumbled his agreement and half-stumbled after Kayla toward us. I gave Ragnar a feeble wave while Merry regarded me with suddenly sad eyes.
"Talk to you guys later," I said.
"Right," said Ragnar with a rueful smile. "Later, dude."
We formed a funeral procession out of the mansion to our cars. Man, I'd really been looking forward to Ragnar and Merry meeting Jenny. What a freaking drag.
"I'm sorry, Aiden," said Jenny.
"Hey, she was the one who said insulting things and tried to punch you."
"Meredith actually tried to punch her?" Jim asked. "She always seems so mature."
"Well, she kind of lost it today."
"She didn't know who she was trying to punch," Kayla said with a hard laugh. "Lucky for her Ragnar stepped in or Jenny would've put her to sleep."
We stopped at our cars.
"Are you headed home?" Kayla asked.
"I don't know." Jenny glanced at me. "Maybe not right away."
Kayla stepped over and drew her into a hug. She finger-combed a blond curl from Jenny's eyebrow.
"We'll talk later, then."
Jenny nodded, as if not trusting her voice. We climbed in my Beamer while Kayla and Jim hopped in her Honda Acura.
"You want to get something to eat?" I asked. The odor of those grilled steaks was haunting me.
"I could definitely eat." She shot me a dry smile. "Beating up someone always gives me an appetite."
I wasn't sure I was quite ready to find that amusing. She was talking about a good friend, after all. "Meredith gets a bit overprotective toward me sometimes."
"Overprotective?" Jenny snorted. "More like she wants to fuck you."
"What?" I just about swerved off the curb on the winding road. "She's with Ragnar! Why would you say that?"
"What used to be called feminine intuition?"
"I don't buy it. She's had plenty of chances before Ragnar. We practically spent a week
end together in Aspen – we even slept together one night! – and she never did a thing with me."
"A weekend in Aspen? And you slept with each other?"
I glanced at her. Her voice had low and somewhat menacing.
"Yeah, it was at the Rocky Mountain World Development Conference last summer. CE sent me there to be their poster boy, basically, and she was my escort. We shared a bed, but nothing happened."
"Did you say she was your escort?" Jenny's voice descended even lower.
"Ah...probably not a good word choice." I gathered my thoughts under Jenny's hard stare. "Meredith actually owns a company, Executive Assistant, which kind of manages meetings between high-powered business people. I'm not sure how that usually works, but with me it was basically babysitting." I made a sour face. "Probably what it will be next time in the Trinity Alps."
"Wait a minute. When you told me about the CE conference up there you never mentioned anything about Meredith Baxter being with you."
"I didn't think of it."
"Don't bullshit me, Aiden Stevens. I don't trust that woman."
"Jeez, Jenny, you sound like my mom – "
She grabbed me by the collar. "Pull over. I'll show you just how much like your mom I am."
We were winding our way through some woods in the foothills north of Ragnar's place. I spotted a path of bare dirt on one side of the road that narrowly qualified as a pull-out. I hit the brakes and half-skidded into the spot. Jenny jumped out and sprinted around the car, popping my door and dragging me from my seat as I was switching off the ignition.
She pulled me into the woods. We stumbled into a small open circle of leaves and she threw me to the ground. By then I'd pretty much gotten the drift of what she had planned and was eager to fulfill my role.
I didn't care about the pebbles and twigs grinding into my back as Jenny rode me like a rodeo horse. I didn't know how they scored rodeo rides but I was fairly sure we'd gone way past a perfect score by the time she screamed a high banshee note and my hoarse growl of release sounded like a companion ghoul's. Jenny rolled off me onto her back and regarded the blue skies above with glazed eyes.
When my mental haze cleared, and I gazed absently through the trees and spotted a highway patrol cruiser parked alongside my Beamer. I didn't see anyone inside.
Hyper Page 37