Chapter Forty Eight

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Chapter Seventeen

Kristen

The side of her face resting against a bunched up pillow, Kristen watched the bedside clock approach eight o'clock. She reached out and turned off the alarm just before the apartment filled with its noise. Kristen rolled onto her back and stared quietly at the ceiling. Ryan was snoring faintly beside her, and cool morning light peered through the window. Whether it had been trepidation about what lay ahead for her that day or the sharing of her bed with another, Kristen had tossed and turned all night.

Yet it was amid the throes of her restlessness that she came to her decision, and now in the pale light of morning she was all the more certain of her choice. The Vatruvian mice could not be kept a secret among a few people. She would tell the convention of the breakthrough, and willfully accept the fallout of her treason.

For a few minutes Kristen lay quietly and listened to Ryan's rhythmic breath. She decided to let him sleep. With a protracted sigh she rolled out of bed and walked over to the window, the old hardwood floor cold underfoot. She placed her palm against the chilly window, and the glass around her fingers fogged from the touch. The street below was busy with people scrambling to the nearby subway station. Something about the morning rush comforted her as she watched. She walked to the bathroom and twisted the knob to the shower. The reflection that looked back at her was tired and overworked, her hair disheveled. It was not the face of someone prepared to present a lecture to a crowded convention. She allowed herself an extra long and relaxing shower, took her time running a brush through her hair, and pulled on some clothes from her dresser.

Hair still damp, Kristen sat down next to Ryan on the bed and placed a hand lightly on his chest. He placidly stirred awake. "Hey." His voice was raspy with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Early. Before nine." Kristen smiled down at him.

"Oh." Ryan groggily rose to his elbows, the sheet pulling across his chest. "I guess I should probably get going."
"No rush. I don't have to be in Midtown for a couple hours. I was thinking about getting some breakfast if you wanted to join me."

"Sure," Ryan said. Kristen held his gaze for a time, and he inclined his head. "What is it?"

"I decided that I'm going to breach the nondisclosure contract," Kristen said with a composed defiance. "I don't want to be an accomplice to something I don't agree with."

"Good. I think it's the right thing to do."

"Mice."

Ryan sat up and stared at her in bewilderment. "What?"

Kristen nodded grimly.

"I don't understand, what does that mean?"

"Professor Vatruvia has created mice using the Vatruvian cell." Kristen almost brought herself to laugh at the hopelessness of her circumstances. "He made artificial mammals using the technology I helped create."

Ryan stared at her, unable to speak. Kristen ran her fingers through her hair and nodded significantly.

"Mice?"

"Yep. Little mottled mice that are currently scurrying around in cages at the labs," Kristen said. "Each one of them one hundred percent synthetic. And if I were willing to place a bet on the idiocy of people, I would gamble that an equal percentage of the public will applaud it as amazing—as opposed to thinking it's potentially the most dangerous thing ever created."

Ryan reached to the floor and picked up his tee shirt. He pulled it over his head, his expression adrift. "Mice . . . how is that possible?"

"It was easy, in a way," Kristen said regretfully. "Once the first Vatruvian cell functioned, I knew it was a possibility. Professor Vatruvia compounded the same replication techniques to a larger scale. So yes, I knew it was feasible. But I never thought anyone would do it so soon. And there's more . . ."

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