"Maybe..."
My mom was staring at me. "Could you give me an example, Aiden?"
"A couple of them were saying things like they weren't going to tolerate any man's excuse for not taking Reprise if it was available. That sounded pretty strange to me."
"Sounds pretty strange to me, too." She was tapping her forefinger on the table, a classic sign of agitation for my mom.
"Last time I checked, Alyssa," said Max Emanuel, "you have a degree in molecular genetics not psychology. To me, it doesn't seem strange at all. They had some great sex and now they want more. Big surprise there."
My mom glared at him. After a moment, Max averted his gaze from her burning dark blue eyes.
"I'm going to interview some of the women," she said. "If I were you, Maxwell, I would put a lid on your free samples right now."
The CE founder bowed his head. "Okay," he sighed. "Done."
I walked out with my mom. Meredith stood up from where she'd been waiting on one of the outside benches.
"I noticed you talking to Max," she said. "Looked like you were reading the riot act to him. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking."
"I would've liked to have read him something more than a mere riot act," my mom hissed. "I can't believe he did this – handing it out here, going behind my back testing it –" She cut herself off, eyeing Meredith with abrupt concern.
"Don't worry, Alyssa, I don't work for Baxter Pharmaceuticals. Besides, I've already seen enough here to give CE a first-class screwing if that's what I wanted."
"Good point. They must trust you implicitly."
"I'm a discreet company girl who plays by the rules. What can I say?"
"Aiden said the women were acting strangely. Do you agree with that?"
"Hell, yes. You'd think there was something in the air."
"Or something in the blood."
We all stood staring at each other as if poised to do something. To run to our cars and get the hell out of here, maybe.
"Could something you take in a pill be transmitted through, uh, sex?" I asked.
"Possibly, under the right circumstances – maybe if a blood exchange was involved – though I would think even then it would be minimal and transitory. Unless..."
"Unless what?" asked Meredith.
My mom shook her head. "I'm jumping ahead of myself. I need to talk to some women who've had sex with men under the influence of Reprise." She paused, facing Meredith. "I take it that excludes you?"
"You're damn right it does."
"No offense intended. I just wanted to make sure." My mom ignored Merry's continuing glare and turned to me. "Where can I find these women?"
"I'll take you to my friends' cabin," said Meredith. "I'm sure they haven't left for anywhere yet."
As we trekked across the residential grounds, Josh popped out of his cabin and joined our troop.
"You guys look like you're on a mission," he said.
"My mom wants to talk to some of the women," I said. "See if we were imagining things about their behavior."
"Do you agree with my son and Meredith, Joshua?" my mom asked. "About the women, that is."
"Yes. Absolutely. It's like they turned into horny truck drivers or something. The classic male truck driver stereotype before the Outbreak, I mean."
We stopped at one of the cabins – more of a house, really, at three times the size of our place – and Elise let us in.
"Just what the doctor ordered!" Chrissie greeted us from the dining table, where she and her four friends were sipping coffee.. "I take it you've changed your mind about partying, Joshua?"
"Not really. We just brought someone who wants to talk to you."
"Chrissie, girls, this is Dr. Alyssa Stevens," said Meredith. "She's a researcher at CellEvolve and one of the inventors of Melatin and Reprise."
If the five women in the room were impressed they didn't show it. The only responses I spotted were some sullen scowls and cool indifference. A chill spread through the room, as if a Catholic school teacher had entered a room full of roughhousing boys and girls.
"Well, to what do we owe this honor, Dr. Stevens?" Chrissie asked.
"May we sit and speak with you all for a minute?"
"Of course. There's fresh coffee in the kitchen if you want some."
"I'm good," my mom said.
We occupied the empty chairs at one end of the table.
"What do you want to talk about, Dr. Stevens?" Allison asked.
"Have you noticed any unusual thoughts or feelings since your sexual encounters with men on Reprise two nights ago?"
"You mean, aside from the joy of having the best sex we've ever had, followed by the frustration of being told there will be no repeat performance?" Chrissie's smile grew colder with each word. "Because the men are 'Oooo, not tonight, honey, we have a headache'?"
"Men are zuch goddamn veaklings," Elise opined, her German accent in ascent.
"Pussies," Roberta the redhead agreed.
My mom sat blinking at them in apparent amazement. I was feeling pretty amazed myself. It was as if the IQs on their side of the table had dropped thirty or forty points, along with a sex change.
"You're feeling unsatisfied and frustrated, I take it," said my mom.
"Wow," snickered Allison, "you must be psychic!"
"Would you say that the way you're acting now – the way you're expressing yourself and analyzing the situation – is typical for you?"
"There's nothing typical about this situation, Doctor," said Chrissie. "Reprise has changed that forever."
"Perhaps. That remains to be seen."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Allison demanded. "We saw it works with our own eyes...and other body parts." Her friends laughed as she smirked. "Are you suggesting Reprise won't be made available, that it could be rejected by the government?"
"Yes, of course, that is a possibility. Reprise could prove to have deficits that disqualify it as an MES or any other form of treatment. We haven't even begun formal human trials. So there are strong grounds for concern about what's apparently happened here. I would question the judgment, if not the sanity, of any man who used this drug under these circumstances."
While Josh tugged his beard guiltily, the women regarded my mom with hostile, narrowed eyes. I felt my body tensing as if I might have to defend her, which was ridiculous. Or was it? There was something seriously off, nearly feral, in their faces. How could anyone dispute the reasonableness of what my mother just said? I had a feeling we were about to find out.
"Do you plan on telling the men that?" Chrissie asked.
My mom hesitated. After everything she'd said, that was her main concern?
"I've already spoken with Max Emanuel on the subject," said my mom. "He's agreed to halt the dispensing of Reprise samples pending further tests."
The air in the room was about what I'd expect in a cage filled with several starving tigers seconds before the mauling began. I wondered if anyone else was sensing the bloodletting vibe in the air.
Chrissie Hayashi's smile had all the genuineness of a cheery smile painted on skull and crossbones.
"Very sensible, of course," she said. "Why would any man want to be a guinea pig for an untested drug? That would be insane indeed."
"I'm glad to hear that," said my mom. "I wonder if you women would be willing to give me a blood sample. Just to make sure you're okay."
"Why wouldn't we be okay?" Allison demanded.
"It's just a precaution. I brought my lab kit. It will only take a few minutes, I promise."
"Not necessary," Chrissie stated. "We're fine. I think you're just being paranoid, Dr. Stevens."
"I'm not giving any blood," Elise declared. The others quickly echoed her.
"Well, there you are." Chrissie smiled her cheery skull and crossbones smile again. "Anyway, Dr. Stevens, I hope you'll stick around for the virtual reality party tonight. It should be a lot of fun."
My mom didn't reply for the space of several heartb
eats. Then she summoned a tight smile. "I'm not sure. But thanks for the thought."
"Well, perhaps we'll see you later then. In any case, we need to get ready for the Trinity Lake tour, so if you'll excuse us..."
We reconvened in my and Meredith's cabin. My mom had barely said a word as we walked to our cabin. Now we sat in preoccupied silence in the living room as Meredith and Joshua poured drinks from the bar. I heated up a shrimp salad for my mom since she'd never eaten breakfast in the Lodge.
"You've been awfully quiet, Dr. Stevens," said Meredith. "What are you thinking?"
My mom poked at her salad but her fork failed to impale anything.
"I'm thinking," she said, "that those women are what a psychiatrist might call 'altered.' But I'm not a psychiatrist. I'm going by gut instincts here."
"I'm not a psychiatrist, either," said Merry. "But I think 'altered' is a good word for my friends."
"How well do you know them?"
"I wouldn't say we're close, Dr. Stevens. But I think I know them well enough to say they're not acting like themselves."
My mom nodded tiredly. "I can't be sure without a blood test, but I'd guess bioactive elements of Reprise were passed through saliva or semen into their circulatory system."
"But if that's true," I said, "shouldn't they have passed out of their systems by now?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you start to say there could be an exception before?" I asked.
My mom gave me a fleeting smile as though to acknowledge my attentiveness. "We never tested Reprise on females, but it's possible it could affect their endocrine systems. I've been speculating along those lines to explain the female bonobos and rats' sexually aggressive behavior, which also endured long past their sexual contact with the treated males. Chemical alteration or stimulation of the ovaries or adrenals could increase testosterone production. I assumed that would be temporary, but the aggressive behavior has persisted for three weeks and counting in the affected females."
"I never did complete my biochemistry degree," said Meredith, "but if you're right, wouldn't the effects steadily diminish over time and that their bodies naturally reset themselves?"
"That's what I would expect."
I met her eyes. "But?"
"But...it's possible the effects might be more extensive and more long-term."
I rubbed at the rock forming in my throat. "Are you talking about changes on the genetic level?"
"That's possible. Reprise in an epigenetic drug. Though we haven't seen evidence yet of actual DNA alteration, we can't rule that out, either." To our stunned expressions, she said, "There's a reason why testing a new and very powerful drug must be done under controlled conditions."
"I think I'm starting to get that," said Josh.
"Look what happened when they rushed the Ebola vaccine through," I said.
My mom held up a hand. "Let's not get carried away. The odds of any single drug duplicating its effects – particularly heritability – are astronomically low."
"So what do you think we should do?" Meredith asked.
"I'd like to try getting blood samples from the affected women. Some of the others might be more cooperative."
"You might try a harder sell this time," said Meredith. "Maybe something along the lines of a newly discovered and possibly dangerous health risk associated with exposure to Reprise?"
My mom glanced at Meredith with what I thought was the first hint of reluctant respect. "That would be directly sabotaging the whole marketing venture here and indirectly CE itself..." Her jaw tightened. "But under the circumstances, I think it's warranted."
"We should probably move on that now," said Meredith, "before Chrissie and company have a chance to sour them on us."
"Any recommendations about where to start?"
"I know almost everyone here. I don't see anything better than to go cabin to cabin. I can provide the introductions."
"All right. I'll grab my lab kit from my car."
A few minutes later, we were approaching one of the larger cabins – Mom carrying her lab kit case, Meredith at her side, and Josh and I flanking them, like soldiers on a mission. Not exactly the way I'd envisioned my stay at Ellsworth Retreat. It was exciting but unnerving. I wasn't sure what my place in all this was, except moral support. Or possibly – given the way Chrissie and her friends had been looking at us – a bodyguard. It was pretty freaking surreal.
It got a lot more surreal as Martha Eberhart opened the cabin door. Surprise and question flashed through her features, and her fresh "born again" face from yesterday afternoon was still in place. I wasn't even sure I would've recognized her if I hadn't seen that change firsthand.
"Dr. Stevens?"
"Dr. Eberhart. How are you?"
"Fine. I didn't know you were coming here."
"I didn't, either. Could we talk to you for a minute?"
"Of course." She stepped aside, glancing back at a gathering around the kitchen behind her. A lot of curious eyes turned in our direction. Dr. Eberhart's eyes locked onto mine for an instant before she waved us into the living room, where we stood awkwardly.
"What's going on?" she asked us.
"We have a possible situation," said my mom. "My son told me that several of the men tried samples of Reprise two nights ago, and that, um, an orgy ensued."
It hit me then that Dr. Eberhart, as a loyal CE servant/enforcer, was probably the last person to approve anything that would undermine CE's position here. It also struck me that her face and eyes were missing the "feral aspect" for lack of a better word.
"You drove up here because of that?" she asked.
"I came mostly because my son and Meredith reported certain, well, unusual behaviors from the women who'd participated in the, um..."
"Orgy," said Dr. Eberhart.
"I believe the men may have transmitted factors from Reprise to the women. I'd like to take some blood samples from the women who had sexual contact with the men."
I braced myself for a dismissive, hostile response, but Martha was looking at my mom as if she'd just answered a question that had been puzzling her.
"That's odd," she said. "I've been noticing some striking behavioral changes myself, but I've been telling myself it was my imagination."
"You didn't participate in the...group sex?"
"No." Martha met my eyes. "I might've been dressed for the part, but I never had any sexual contact that night."
"I'm glad to hear that. Will you help us?"
Martha hesitated. "Our employer won't appreciate us alarming our guests. There's a lot at stake here."
"I know. But I can think of much worse alternatives than losing some investment money. Can't you?"
The new Director of Research stared at her for a moment before dipping her chin. "Okay. Let me handle this."
She turned to the group curiously watching us in the living room. It was mostly women, with a smattering of men that I guessed were part of a couple.
"Dear guests," she said, "I've just learned there may have been some contamination of the Reprise samples. We're going to need some small blood samples to make sure you're okay. We'll start with the women first, please."
The people reacted to her authoritative, matter-of-fact announcement with the predictable assortment of confused looks and defensive murmuring, but no one objected when my mom moved forward and set her lab case on the kitchen table.
"What kind of contamination are we talking about, Martha?" asked one of the men. "And would it have any affect on someone's personality?"
That drew a nasty glance from the woman beside him.
"That’s one possible side-effect," said Dr. Eberhart. "The contamination could have a hormonal effect."
"In that case" – the man eased the woman at his side by the elbow toward the kitchen table, "Diane, why don't you go first?"
"Is this truly necessary, Martha?" the woman asked.
"I'm afraid so. Purely precautionary, but necessary. Please take a seat, Margaret, and the r
est of you please form a line. Again, women first."
The people moved like willing chess pieces under her authority. I felt half-compelled to get into line myself. My mom broke out her syringes and bottles and went to work. The first two women made faces as Mom struggled a bit to find her blood-taking groove – not exactly a regular feature of her work – but soon she was cranking through them like an assembly line.
An awkward moment arrived when Max Emanuel stepped through the door with his entourage calling "Knock, knock!", then froze so suddenly that his followers bumped into him.
"What the – " He caught himself as everyone turned to him. By slow degrees he tamed his startled scowl into a strained smile. "Ah, hello, everyone."
He moved away from his group straight to Dr. Eberhart and my mom, who was down to the last two women. Max stood watching with an increasingly strained smile until my mom finished before pulling her and Martha to one side of the kitchen. I only heard the whispered murmur of his voice but it was pretty obvious he was pissed off and wondering what the hell they thought they were doing.
My mom, in response to whatever Max Emanuel had said, halted the line of women and men and packed up her samples. She, Martha, and Max headed for the door. I exchanged a look with Josh, and we followed.
Outside, Max's fixed smile vanished. He paced in agitated steps in front of my mom and Dr. Eberhart, looking more like an enraged pirate with his ponytail and single gold earring than his usual affable neo-hippie. He kept pushing back stray strands of black hair and making low grunting sounds as if carrying on a dialogue with his inner beast. I moved protectively to my mom's side. Martha Eberhart gazed into the distance past her employer like a recruit preparing to stoically accept her drill sergeant's abuse.
"This," said Max, with several S's on the word's end, "is completely, insanely unacceptable. What in the name of Zeus almighty were you thinking, Alyssa?"
"You know what I was thinking, Max. We need to know if these women are dangerous – or pose a danger."
"That's pure speculation. And not even probable speculation. On the basis of that you're sabotaging this entire conference and grossly undermining the reputation of CE itself?"
"You should've thought about that before handing out an untested and possibly dangerous drug like candy."
Hyper Page 43