Professor Vatruvia had further shocked the scientific community by publicly announcing that his research into their incipient Vatruvian cell technology was still in the blossoming stages. From news headlines, to magazine articles, to television specials across the globe, the mainstream world was waiting for the next breakthrough from Professor Vatruvia and his Columbia research team. To Kristen, the end goal of their research remained at best vague. Despite her close relationship with Professor Vatruvia and her integral hand in the Vatruvian cell’s creation, Kristen was beginning to feel in some ways as uninformed as the general public.
“What is your field of study again, Cara?” Steve asked over the rising noise in the bar.
“Molecular pathology. I started my lab work on the Vatruvian cell a few weeks ago.” Cara said. “What about you?”
“Computer Science. Don’t have much in common with you biology nerds.”
Kristen looked at him doubtfully as she nibbled a chip with little interest. “Get real, Steve. You and I both know you’re the biggest nerd at this table. Are you going to bring up artificial intelligence again? Or maybe discuss which dumbass superhero is strongest?”
“Yeah okay,” Steve said. “How about we bring up the ethics of the Vatruvian cell again?”
“Are you serious?” Kristen said and turned to Cara, her voice abruptly turning humorless and stern. Steve struck a chord he knew would resonate. “Unlike our shortsighted computer scientist here, I raised a perfectly valid question at the last research meeting.”
“More like you called out Professor Vatruvia in front of the entire research team.” Steve said.
“What do you mean?” Cara asked. “Called Professor Vatruvia out for what?”
“It was nothing,” Kristen said.
“I wouldn’t have called it nothing. Cara, you know the research meeting that’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon?”
Cara Williams nodded.
Kristen sighed with aggravation as Steve took a sip of his fresh beer, a layer of the thick head lingering on his upper lip. “At the last one, Kristen here asked—no demanded—Professor Vatruvia to tell the team the direction our research is heading.”
This seemed to evoke some interest out of Cara, and she leaned forward. “What did he say? I’ve been wondering that myself since I started working with the Vatruvian cell.”
“Absolutely nothing,” Kristen said with a severe shake of her head. “Professor Vatruvia hasn’t told us a damn thing. Evidently we’re his mindless drones; we are to complete our work and not question a single aspect of what we’re doing. It’s shameful I didn’t get more support from the rest of the team—a team of allegedly talented thinkers. When it comes down to it, everyone is a pawn who will do whatever he orders simply to be a part of the research.”
“Don’t look at me,” Steve said with a ring of genuine defensiveness. “I just keep the computer programs running. I don’t know the first thing about the Vatruvian cell. That’s your department. The Vatruvian cell work is still way over my head.”
“A little support couldn’t have hurt,” Kristen said.
“You know . . .” Cara began but fell silent, her brow creased. “I . . . I’ve been wondering the same thing, Kristen. I’m glad we’re on the same page. In a weird way the Vatruvian cell kind of . . . freaks me out.”
Kristen shot Steve a piercing look to prove to him she was not alone in her concerns, and took the last sip of melted ice from her glass. “Yeah well, too bad no one else feels the same way we do, Cara.”
“It’s been a few months now since the last meeting. Professor Vatruvia is probably going to make a big announcement,” Steve said in an obvious attempt to subdue the rising tension between them.
Cara nodded. “I hope so.”
Kristen turned and looked to the growing number of people gathering by the bar. It was primarily an undergraduate crowd—she could tell from the overly eager aura radiating from their slightly inebriated faces. As she watched their lighthearted exchanges, Kristen could not help but feel a sense of disconnection. There was a group of frat types waiting for pints of beer. The bartenders and servers were attractive girls with low-cut shirts and snug jeans. A line stemming from the bathrooms grew longer by the minute with buzzed students. Looming above them all, big screen televisions blared out the week’s football highlights. Kristen’s attention was drawn to two girls, giggling and leaning against a couple of guys. They were telling some mundane story about an off-campus party the other night. Kristen could only catch bits of the idiotic drunken narrative. But as she gazed at them, she could not help but feel somewhat envious of the carefree look of it all.
Kristen returned her attention to the late twenty-somethings sitting with her in the booth. They had an old, tired, and professional look to them. Steve had a receding hairline and a gut from spending too much time sitting at a computer and retaining a stellar attendance at weekly bar trivia nights. Cara was sporting a subtle diamond engagement ring. Certainly neither of these older colleagues would consider staying out late and enjoying a casual night of raging and forgetting about reality—and ultimately neither would Kristen. There was a full day of work in the morning, and that was all there was to it. The ever-present weight of work to be done was a force that had long since claimed authority of Kristen’s life. Tomorrow, while all of these silly and simple peers would be sleeping off a long night, Kristen would be acting vanguard to a modern marvel of discovery.
An unsettling sensation of disquiet surfaced in the back of her mind as Kristen stared across the prosaic happenings of the bar and considered what had been nagging her for the past few months. What Steve had quipped about was partly true. She had made somewhat of a spectacle at the last research meeting with Professor Vatruvia. More and more as the weeks progressed Kristen was beginning to grow anxious about the Vatruvian cell, though she could not rationalize her concerns with any tangible justification. For the time being Kristen decided to keep her thoughts to herself.