Читать книгу The Apotheosis - Darrell Lee - Страница 9

The meeting day with Dr. Ethan Shinwell took three interminable weeks to arrive. John waited, dressed in his best power suit, in the outer office with the administrative assistant for a half hour. The smell of musty wood-paneled walls, the click of the secretary’s nails on the keyboard, and the hum of the printer down the short hallway behind her desk were all the same as when he last saw this part of the building. The afternoon coffee brewed on the small table, out of sight, by the printer. It was where he had gone to get a cup of coffee for his dad. Back then he was nine years old. Now he waited for an invitation to enter his father’s old office from a man he’d met only once.

Finally, the dark oak door to the office opened. A thin man, dark hair protruding from under a navy-blue kippah, a full beard sitting on a gaunt face, stepped out. He looked at John through black-framed glasses that made his eyes look bigger than normal. A white dress shirt hung loosely from square shoulders. Black dress slacks clung to his hips with the help of a worn, overly tightened belt. Had he been sick the last five years?

“Good to see you again, Dr. Numen. Please come in.”

John stood, shook hands. Ethan’s grip was firm, his pale hand extending out from the sleeve of the dress shirt. John did not yet know that standing before him was a façade. The stone-hard bark of a tree that was rotting from the inside.

He entered the office. The walls were dark and wooden, like the door. A window to the right was the light source. The rich oak flooring was now covered with carpeting, a pale gray. In the center of the far wall sat a large desk covered with papers and a computer screen set to the side. It had the feeling of an old man’s office, perhaps a high school principal about to retire. Not the office of a man in his thirties.

Ethan sat behind the desk. “Have a seat, please.” He pointed to a chair opposite him. “Dr. Jones has told me quite a lot about you.”

“He’s an old friend of the family. So I am sure he embellished.”

“He thought there may be some synergy with our current work and your research.”

John sat back in the leather chair and crossed his legs. “That’s the hope.”

“I did some research of my own. You have an impressive academic record at Harvard.” Ethan picked up an already opened folder on his desk. “I don’t quite understand the software you developed or the device you engineered that’s the subject matter of your dissertation.”

“It’s a computer-driven device that I developed to assist in somatic cell nuclear transfer to solve the replication of a key set of proteins during the cloning procedure for rhesus monkey embryos,” John said.

Ethan flipped a page in the folder in front of him. “I see. The National Health Council Award for Medical Research, the J. Allyn Taylor International Prize in Medicine, and the Dana Award for Pioneering Achievement in Health, among others. This is an impressive list of awards, especially over such a short time.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan continued to examine the folder’s contents. “Dr. Numen, this is a pharmaceutical research company, as you know. Your work is impressive; however, I really don’t see how much of it applies to anything we are doing.

“I know of your father’s legacy at this company. I’m in charge of the research activities that are done in this lab. Dr. Jones informed me that you talked of therapeutic cloning and that there could be an application. Looking at your work, I see mostly reproductive cloning. That’s a bit out in left field for me.”

“There really isn’t much difference—”

“Yes, there is.” Ethan looked over the top of the folder. “The creation of human life can only be done by God.”

“Of course, Dr. Shinwell.” John knew when there could only be one ego in a room, and if he wanted a discreet place to get his research done, he would have to give Dr. Shinwell’s ego plenty of space.

“The federal government passed laws banning the cloning of humans just last fall.” Ethan placed the folder on the desk. “Are you planning to change the direction of this company?”

“I think initially my work here will be outside the company’s current business model. So, I should make no impact on your lab’s activities,” John said.

“That is nice to know. As long as it doesn’t affect my budget or bring legal troubles, we should have no problems.”

“I’ll be paying for half the cost of equipping the new lab. Dr. Jones has agreed that the company will pay the other half. We didn’t talk in detail about the budget structure. Just an educated guess, but I’d expect an impact to your budget for this year.”

“How much will that be?”

“I’ll write up a budget proposal for the next board meeting. I believe that is the standard protocol for budget issues. There’s one other thing—” John leaned forward in his chair. “I know you’re the director of the lab, but the one I’ll be establishing will share the same building, yet will be physically separate. I’ll have the final say on who has access to it, including you.”

“We’ll just see what Dr. Jones has to say about that. I don’t think—”

“I have. He’s given it his approval.”

“I guess your 40 percent ownership in the company does bring privileges.” Ethan picked up the folder on his desk and tossed it in the wastebasket behind him.

John stood from his chair. “Thank you for your time.” What a prick. Fuck you. He headed for the door.

“Same here,” Ethan replied.