Terminal

“So we’ll still be working at the same institution.”

“Did you ever think that maybe you should have discussed this idea with me?” Sean asked.

“I couldn’t,” Janet said. “You were on the road.”

“What about before I left?” Sean asked. “Or you could have waited until I’d arrived. I think we should have talked about this.”

“Well, that’s the whole point,” Janet said.

“What do you mean?”

“I came here so we can talk,” Janet said. “I think this is a perfect opportunity for us to talk about us. In Boston you’re so involved with school and your research. Here your schedule will undoubtedly be lighter. We’ll have the time we never had in Boston.”

Sean pushed off the couch and walked over to the open slider. He was at a loss for words. This whole episode of coming to Florida was working out terribly. “How’d you get here?” he asked.

“I flew down and rented a car,” Janet said.

“So nothing’s irreversible?” Sean said.

“If you think you can just send me home, think again,” Janet said, an edge returning to her voice. “This is probably the first time in my life I’ve gone out on a limb for something I think is important.” She still sounded angry, but Sean sensed she could also be on the verge of tears. “Maybe we’re not important in your scheme of things . . .”

Sean interrupted her. “It isn’t that at all. The problem is, I don’t know whether I’m staying.”

Janet’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

Sean came back to the couch and sat down. He looked into Janet’s hazel eyes as he told her about his disturbing reception at the Center with half the people being hospitable, the other half rude. Most importantly, he told her that Dr. Mason and Dr. Levy were balking at allowing him to work on the medulloblastoma protocol.

“What do they want you to do?” she asked.

“Busywork as far as I’m concerned,” Sean said. “They want me to try to make a monoclonal antibody to a specific protein. Failing that, I’m to crystallize it so that its three-dimensional molecular shape can be determined. It will be a waste of my time. I’m not going to be learning anything. I’d be better off going back to Boston and working on my oncogene project for my dissertation.”

“Maybe you could do both,” Janet suggested. “Help them with their protein and in return get to work on the medulloblastoma project.”

Sean shook his head. “They were very emphatic. They are not about to change their minds. They said the medulloblastoma study had moved into clinical trials, and I’m here for basic research. Between you and me, I think their reluctance has something to do with the Japanese.”

“The Japanese?” Janet questioned.

Sean told Janet about the huge grant Forbes had accepted in return for any patentable biotechnology products. “Somehow I think the medulloblastoma protocol is tied up in their deal. It’s the only way I can explain why the Japanese would offer Forbes so much money. Obviously they expect and intend to get a return on their investment someday—and probably sooner rather than later.”

“This is awful,” Janet said, but her response was personal. It had nothing to do with Sean’s research career. She’d been so consumed by the effort of coming to Florida that she’d not prepared herself for this kind of reversal.

“And there’s another problem,” Sean said. “The person who gave me the chilliest reception happens to be the director of research. She’s the person I directly report to.”

Janet sighed. She was already trying to figure how to undo everything she had done to get her down to the Forbes Center in the first place. She’d probably have to go back on nights at Boston Memorial, at least for a while. Janet pushed herself out of the deep armchair where she’d been sitting and wandered over to the sliding door. Coming to Florida had seemed like such a good idea to her when she’d been in Boston. Now it seemed like the dumbest thing she’d ever thought of.

Suddenly Janet spun around. “Wait a minute!” she said. “Maybe I have an idea.”

“Well?” Sean questioned when Janet remained silent.

“I’m thinking,” she said, motioning for him to be quiet for a moment.

Sean studied her face. A few moments ago she’d looked depressed. Now her eyes sparkled.

“Okay, here’s what I think,” she said. “Let’s stay here and look into this medulloblastoma business together. We’ll work as a team.”

“What do you mean?” Sean sounded skeptical.

“It’s simple,” Janet said. “You mentioned that the project had moved into clinical trials. Well, no problem. I’ll be on the wards. I’ll be able to determine the treatment regimens: the timing, the dosages, the works. You’ll be in the lab and you can do your thing there. That monoclonal stuff shouldn’t take all your time.”

Sean bit his lower lip as he gave Janet’s suggestion some thought. He had actually considered looking into the medulloblastoma issue on the sly. His biggest obstacle had been exactly what Janet would be in a position to provide, namely clinical information.