"What were you thinking?"
Clearly, Paul was annoyed.
"I don't want anything of this nature ever to happen again."
Adam smirked at me across the meeting table. He had been pulled over a few hundred meters short of the Breedlove Manor driveway, and spared an arrest for grand theft auto only by summoning Breedlove himself out into the wintry night to do some fast talking to the local police.
I would have liked to have seen that.
Not so remarkably, Breedlove was now focused upon me and my sin, and in so doing, avoided dealing with the sins of the Prince of Genomex, Adam. So often, things involving Adam had a way of acquiring a juvenile character, and his latest DUI arrest was no different.
Will Paul make me sit in a corner for 30 minutes since I've been so naughty?
"Adam, I want to talk to Mason alone."
I suppose Breedlove's tone was intended to frighten me. However, even if he fired me, Genomex would still be obligated to pay the cost of keeping me alive and if I died, to pay a huge amount of money into an account for the education of my children. They may as well get some work out of me…
Adam bounded out of the office, confident of once again staying in his mentor's good graces.
The next time you may kill more than a guardrail. Even Paul will be unable to ignore a charge of manslaughter.
"If I were you, Mason, I'd be careful what I said and did to Adam."
I stared at Paul for several seconds, disbelieving. "I am missing something vital here, Paul: Adam committed the DUI and Adam left the three of us stranded in a snowstorm in the middle of the night along a lightly traveled stretch of interstate."
"Some of Adam's current research promises to be of great value in alleviating your…condition."
Yes, Paul, my 'condition', caused by Adam.
"The mitochondria project?"
"Yes."
Paul could be correct. And since it would be Paul and not Adam responsible for any application used in treating me, Adam would be unable to pervert the work to causing me further harm.
"Right now I do not know of any other research of possible benefit to you. Adam knows this, too. Annoy him enough, and if he chooses to slow down or ignore that line of inquiry, I could do nothing about it."
As long as I lived, my afflicted, weakened self was an embarrassment to Genomex, but postponing the payment due if I died motivated them to keep me alive. I had been careful to build in such a motivation to discourage further 'accidents'.
"You're a realist, Paul. Most biotech are floundering because they do not approach delivering the enormous profits they promised. Genomex is a happy exception. Can it weather headlines screaming, "Genomex Head Biotech Researcher Convicted of Manslaughter"?
"You're being excessively dramatic."
"No. Read last night's police report. Adam did not have the road to himself. I talked to the cop who arrested him. Last night was very nearly a good deal worse."
I was not exaggerating.
Paul shrugged as though helpless.
Waves of queasiness washed over me.
"I have to get to medical. Now."
"Go on."
Once there, I took my time, even catching a brief bit of sleep while awaiting lab results. I did not have to speak to Adam the balance of the working day.
I had access to all of the company's encrypted technical files. That evening, I tried to read the individual and section reports to sort out the status and implications of the mitochondria work. I could do no better than skim over the material, which was too arcane for a non-specialist. Frustrated, must have fallen asleep sometime after 1.30.
I woke up very sick indeed, weaker and sicker than I had felt in months, and with the realization at the top of my thoughts that no matter how motivated Breedlove was financially to keep me alive, Adam didn't care if my children did become major shareholders of Genomex.
"As Genomex made the transition from emphasis upon human and mammalian experimental genetics, turning to the development of animals and plants of economic value, we had need of secure growing space. The grounds of Iolantheana are ideal for such purposes."
The Breedlove greenhouses were impressive, but at the moment the heated, humid air was stifling. Outside, snow was falling and the dozens of red and white lights on the candy canes lining the driveway to the main house were becoming distinctly bright in the gloom of a late December afternoon. Breedlove droned on.
"I want to show you something I'm really proud of—and something that I am certain will make us all a good deal of money."
I followed Breedlove through a door leading to the next section of a greenhouse. One step inside and I found it hard to believe what I was seeing.
"Is the pigmentation real?"
"Absolutely real. We added coding from Ipomea tricolor Heavenly Blue."
No rose on earth naturally possesses the genetics for blue pigmentation. Some extraordinary mauve roses have been bred, but creating a truly blue rose is impossible by ordinary techniques.
Dozens of rose bushes were in bloom, filling the air with a heady old rose fragrance.
"And they're not just blue."
"By no means, Mason. They are superior roses. We started with the hardiest of the Buck roses and made them even better. They have resistance to every important rose disease. If most rose pests settle in to dine, the plant tissue itself is toxic to them. You've already noticed the true rose scent, so lacking in many modern strains."
"Extraordinary."
"I knew you'd think so. That is why it is so important for security to be improved on the grounds. If someone took a cutting from a plant, another company could beat us to market. This kind of organism is the future of Genomex. We cannot guard or protect it too carefully."
I looked straight up. "As a first move, I would install glass or plastic to prevent satellite photography. If satellites can resolve a license plate, they can resolve a blue rose."
Breedlove smiled. He hired me to think of things like that.
To be continued.