“It’s a bit early in the day, but I completely understand. Just remember—you talk, you walk,” Chris said sternly. “That means no talking to each other outside these walls either. I don’t want anyone to overhear.”
“If someone did overhear us talking about witches and vampires, they’d just think we were playing D&D,” Xbox said. Game Boy nodded.
“No. Talking,” Chris repeated.
The door swooshed open. A tiny woman in a purple miniskirt, red boots, and a black T-shirt that read STAND BACK—I’M GOING TO TRY SCIENCE walked through. Miriam Shephard had arrived.
“Who are you?” Chris demanded.
“Your worst nightmare—and new lab manager. Hi, Diana.” Miriam pointed to the can of soda.
“Whose is that?”
“Mine,” Chris said.
“No food or drink in the lab. That goes double for you, Roberts,” Miriam said, jabbing her finger in Chris’s direction.
“Human Resources didn’t tell me they were sending an applicant,” Beaker said, confused.
“I’m not an applicant. I filled out the paperwork this morning, was hired, and got my dog tags.”
Miriam held up her ID card, which was, as mandated, attached to her lanyard.
“But I’m supposed to interview . . .” Chris began. “Who did you say you are?”
“Miriam Shephard. And HR waived the interview after I showed them this.” Miriam pulled her cell phone out of her waistband. “I quote: ‘Have your ass in my lab at nine A.M., and be prepared to explain my mistakes in two hours—no excuses.’” Miriam removed two sheets of paper from her messenger bag, which was stuffed with laptops and paper files. “Who is Tina?”
“I am.” A smiling Tina stepped forward. “Hello, Dr. Shephard.”
“Hello. I’ve got my hiring manifest or health-insurance waiver or something for you. And this is Roberts’s formal reprimand for his inappropriate text message. File it.” Miriam handed over the papers.
She slung the bag from her shoulder and tossed it to Matthew. “I brought everything you asked for, Matthew.”
The entire lab watched, openmouthed, as the bag full of computers sailed through the air. Matthew caught it without damaging a single laptop, and Chris looked at Miriam’s throwing arm with naked admiration.
“Thank you, Miriam,” Matthew murmured. “I trust you had an uneventful journey.” His tone and choice of words were formal, but there was no disguising his relief at seeing her.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she said caustically. Miriam pulled another piece of paper out of the back pocket on her miniskirt. After examining it she looked up. “Which one of you is Beaker?”
“Here.” Beaker walked toward Miriam, her hand extended. “Joy Connelly.”
“Oh. Sorry. All I have is a ridiculous list of nicknames drawn from the dregs of popular culture, along with some acronyms.” Miriam shook Beaker’s hand, drew a pen out of her boot, and crossed something out. She scribbled something next to it. “Nice to meet you. I like your RNA work. Sound stuff. Very helpful. Let’s go get coffee and figure out what needs to be done to whip this place into compliance.”
“The closest decent coffee is a bit of a hike,” Beaker said apologetically.
“Unacceptable.” Miriam made another note on her paper. “We need a café in the basement as soon as possible. I toured the building on my way up here, and that space is wasted now.”
“Should I come with you?” Chris asked, shifting on his feet. “Not now,” Miriam told him. “Surely you have something more important to do. I’ll be back at one o’clock. That’s when I want to see”—she paused and scrutinized her list—“Sherlock, Game Boy, and Scully.”
“What about me, Miriam?” Shotgun asked.
“We’ll catch up later, Richard. Nice to see a familiar face.” She looked down at her list. “What does Roberts call you?”
“Shotgun.” Richard’s mouth twitched.
“I trust it’s because of your speedy sequencing, not because you’ve taken to hunting like humans.”
Miriam’s eyes narrowed. “Is what we’re doing here going to be a problem, Richard?”
“Can’t imagine why,” Richard said with a small shrug. “The Congregation and its concerns are way above my pay grade.”
“Good.” Miriam surveyed her openly curious new charges. “Well? What are you waiting for? If you want something to do, you can always run some gels. Or unpack supply boxes. There are plenty of them stacked up in the corridor.”
Everyone in the lab scattered.
“Thought so.” She smiled at Chris. He looked nervous. “As for you, Roberts, I’ll see you at two o’clock. We have your article to discuss. And your protocols to review. After that, you can take me to dinner. Somewhere nice, with steak and a good wine list.”