No Ordinary Day , Tate, Harley [ebook offline .TXT] 📗

of a handful of senators and the five people watching on C-SPAN.” Randall stepped back. “We’ll just have to find a way to carry on without you for a few days, won’t we?”

Emma swallowed. Pissing Randall off was not a career-enhancing move. She tried to sound contrite. “I’m sorry about the time off. If you need me to come in on the weekend—”

He waved her off. “Just get all your weekly tasks done by Friday. Harris can fill in.” Without waiting for her reply, Randall turned and headed for the next lab.

“You sure got his panties in a twist.” Tyler, another lab tech, sidled over. “Just wait until he watches your testimony.” His eyes practically gleamed with amusement. “I bet he spends all morning in the can!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “If you’re here to lecture me about CropForward—”

“Whoa, now.” Tyler held up his gloved hands. “Just giving you a hard time. That’s allowed, isn’t it? Not every day one of my coworkers is a big-time whistleblower. After next week, you’ll be famous.”

A groan gurgled up Emma’s throat. “Don’t remind me. If I could testify anonymously, believe me, I would.”

His half-grin faded. “You really think CropForward is going to poison people? I know they’ve had a bad rap for years with their pesticides, but these new seeds are supposed to double the yield.”

Emma hesitated. Ordinarily she didn’t share when pressed about her upcoming testimony, but part of her was sick of hiding. Tyler was right; in a few days everyone would know. “My job at CropForward was to test for side effects of crops grown from the Seeds of the Future. Rats to start, then Rhesus monkeys through another lab in India, then human trials in a few locations worldwide.” She paused. “I didn’t make it past phase two with the rats.”

“Ouch.” Tyler adjusted his safety glasses. “What happened?”

“At first, nothing. They ate the wheat, corn, soy, no problems. But we noticed their litters beginning to decline after the first six months or so. Instead of litters of five to ten, we were seeing three to seven, then two to five, then a year out, maybe only one.”

Emma thought back to the early days. “I remember wondering if it was the bedding or the lighting—rats can be picky about too much light—but everything was standard. It wasn’t until the next generation stopped reproducing that I became concerned.”

Tyler’s face paled. “You’re telling me the seeds made them sterile?”

“I can’t account for any other explanation.”

He whistled. “That’s insane. Why hasn’t CropFoward halted the trial?”

“Because they would lose billions of dollars in funding. It’s a joint contract between UN countries, remember?”

“But they would have to know something like this would come out.”

“We signed NDAs.”

“That’s not stopping you.”

Emma shivered. “After next week, Fielding will probably let me go. There won’t be another lab anywhere in the US who will hire me. I’ll be unemployable.”

“I don’t believe it.” Tyler crossed his arms. “What about all the other research trials that end badly? I don’t see a bunch of unemployable scientists now working food service.”

Emma appreciated Tyler’s innocence. He couldn’t have been more than a year or two out of college. He hadn’t risen in the ranks enough to know how it all worked. “Most researchers work for companies now. Even college professors. They get a contract to test a new drug or product and it pays enough that they can keep working on the projects they really want to do. If it turns out badly for the company, the research is mothballed, never to see the light of day.”

“And the drug?”

“Sometimes it’s canceled, sometimes it undergoes more tests.”

Tyler opened his mouth to respond when his stomach did the talking. He grimaced. “Skipped breakfast. Traffic was terrible.” He motioned toward the elevator. “Want to catch a bite?”

The invitation caught Emma off guard. Although most employees ate in the communal break room, Emma never felt welcome. The side stares and hushed conversations didn’t scream “Come on in,” so she ate alone.

She told the truth. “I didn’t bring a lunch.”

“Neither did I. There’s a good sandwich shop around the corner. They’ve got a $5.95 lunch special if you order before noon.”

Emma checked her watch. “If we hurry, we can just make it.”

Together, they removed their lab gear before heading toward the elevator. Had she ever seen Tyler without the goggles, coat, and gloves? She hadn’t realized how gangly he was; more teenager than grown man. “When did you graduate college?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as the doors opened. “That obvious, huh?” He focused on the floor. “Next year. I work here part-time as my hands-on experience for my degree.”

Emma smiled. “Good for you. Hands-on experience is invaluable.”

Tyler’s shoulders eased. “You think so?”

“Definitely.” Emma pushed the button for the lobby and the doors slid shut.

At the third floor, the elevator slowed. The man from the morning stepped on.

“Done already?” Emma smiled.

“Excuse me?”

Emma’s cheeks heated. “I’m sorry, I just—” She stumbled over her words in embarrassment. “I was on the elevator with you this morning.”

The man’s lips thinned into a line. “Sorry. Didn’t remember.”

Of course he didn’t. Emma wished she could melt into the wall. Tyler had distracted her and brought her out of her shell for the first time in weeks. Why would a stranger, especially one a step below model material, ever remember a frazzled researcher with a bagel in her teeth? As the awkward silence extended, the elevator shuddered.

The lights flicked out.

“What the—” Tyler spun around, knocking into Emma’s arm.

She reached out to steady him. “It’s just a power outage.” She pulled her phone from her purse and turned on the flashlight. Their faces illuminated from below like ghouls in a cartoon.

“But the building’s on a generator. Emergency backup for all the labs.”

Emma thought back to the news coverage of the morning. “Didn’t the news say something about this?”

“You watch the news?” Tyler kept tapping the screen of his phone. “I thought only old people did that.”

“Then roll me into assisted living,