Although Lisa’s father had once been one of the most prestigious researchers at the hospital, his administrative responsibilities had taken a toll on his productivity, and his research space had been downsized on several occasions until it consisted of a single room the size of a large closet. It was crowded with a wide variety of equipment, including a centrifuge, a cryogenic storage tank, and a biological safety cabinet. Several other machines that Richard didn’t recognize stood against the far wall. He examined them one by one.
“It’s amazing how much everything has changed,” he said. “When I was doing this sort of thing forty years ago, we didn’t have all this fancy equipment. We just had our brains, our training, and our creativity. It’s tragic. Kids these days don’t know how to think for themselves. What’s this ungodly thing?” He patted an enormous contraption wedged into a corner.
“It’s a copy machine,” said Lisa’s father.
“Oh,” said Richard. “Why is it here?”
“Because I didn’t have anywhere else to put it after the dean of medicine decided he liked my office better than his and kicked me out,” said Lisa’s father, who had been more gloomy than usual since Agnes’ arrival. To prevent Richard from asking more questions, he went to the whiteboard and picked up a marker.
“What’s the protocol?” he said.
Richard stared off into the distance.
“Peterson was fanatical about mythology,” he said. “He thought the ancient stories contained scientific secrets, and he was obsessed with the concept of immortality. He started studying the gods to figure out what made them special. It wasn’t long before he decided the combination of nectar and ambrosia was a magical substance that could prolong life. Supposedly, it was the color of gold.”
“Blood plasma?” said Lisa’s father.
“Guess again,” said Richard.
“Bone marrow?” said Lisa’s father.
“Correct,” said Richard. “It was a bit of a stretch, but he thought he had stumbled on something important, so he started experimenting on animals—extracting bone marrow, isolating the different components, and changing them in various ways to see if he could get them to recognize and eliminate cancer cells. It was a splendid idea, but the field was relatively new, and that was the start of his problems. He was just too impatient to figure it out step by step.”
“So he was basically performing a modified autologous bone marrow transplant,” said Lisa’s father. He began writing on the whiteboard. “That doesn’t sound particularly special, although I admit it must have been revolutionary at the time. What did he do to the bone marrow after he extracted it?”
“I don’t remember,” said Richard.
He waited to see what sort of reaction this revelation would provoke. The expression on the face of Lisa’s father changed from irritation to incredulity to dismay. Richard thought he sensed a hint of panic. He was surprised, and even though he didn’t want to believe Lisa’s father was capable of anything sinister, he wondered if his motives weren’t as altruistic as he had previously thought.
“You don’t remember?” said Lisa’s father.
“It was a long time ago,” said Richard. “Besides, I was traumatized. It’s bad enough to be accused of unspeakable things, but it’s even worse to fear for the safety of your family. Peterson did everything in his power to hurt me after I betrayed him, and he knew the best strategy was to target the people I loved.”
“That’s tragic, but if you can’t remember what he did, we’re in trouble,” said Lisa’s father. “You of all people should appreciate how difficult it is to modify the normal functions of the human body to achieve something unnatural. The concept is simple enough, but without the details, it’s all theoretical. What are we going to do? This isn’t the sort of thing we can make up as we go along.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” said Richard. “I’m glad you’re able to recognize your own limitations. Fortunately for the two of us, I kept a personal notebook while I was working with Peterson. It has all the information we need. I never told anyone about it. I wanted to have one more card up my sleeve in case Peterson wasn’t found guilty. It was the only piece of evidence that never went to trial. It sounds foolish now, but it made sense to me at the time.”
“Where is it?” said Lisa’s father.
“I would rather not tell you,” said Richard. “For all we know, someone could be listening to this conversation right now, and I don’t want to take any chances. I hid it in a safe place. I’ll go and get it tomorrow. In the meantime, you can collect a sample of Sabrina’s bone marrow so we have something to work with. I suggest you get as much as you can. We’re going to need enough to make multiple doses of the drug, and the fewer times we have to stick her with needles, the better.”
While Lisa’s father inventoried the supplies, Richard assured himself the laboratory was secure enough to thwart Peterson if he tried to break in. He began to feel better, but his relief was temporary. As they went out, he stumbled over a box lying outside the door. He regained his balance with an expletive while Lisa’s father picked up the box and examined the label.
“Are you expecting something?” said Richard.
“No,” said Lisa’s father. “Not that I remember. It was probably delivered to the wrong room by mistake. I’m sure someone will come looking for it eventually. I need to see if it’s perishable.”
“Don’t do it, Andrew,” said Richard. “It might be a trap.”
Lisa’s father ignored him and opened the box. It contained a bottle of wine and a business card bearing Graham’s name. Richard examined the business card.
“Who is Graham?” he said.
“A headhunter,” said Lisa’s father. “He’s dating that crazy woman Molly who lives down the beach. I had dinner with him last week, and he offered me a job, but I told him I was too busy with other things. Believe it or not,
