Shock by Cook Robin

Author:Cook, Robin [Cook, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: A G. P. Putnam’s Sons
Published: 2000-06-04T23:00:00+00:00

DEBORAH NODDED EVERY so often to make it seem like she was listening. She was sitting in Megan Finnigan’s postage-stamp-sized office just off the main laboratory room. Shelves lined all four walls and were filled with manuals, laboratory source books, and loose stacks of papers. The laboratory supervisor was a rail of a woman with gray-streaked, mousy-colored hair that continually fell into her line of sight. Every minute and a half, with metronomic regularity, she tossed her head to whip the errant strands away from her face. The tic made it hard for Deborah to keep her eyes on the woman without reaching out, grabbing her by the shoulders, and telling her to stop.

Deborah’s mind couldn’t help but wander as the woman gave her a canned lecture about laboratory techniques. Deborah wondered how Joanna was making out.

“Do you have any questions?” Megan asked suddenly.

As if having been caught napping, Deborah sat up straighter. “I don’t think so,” she said quickly.

“Good,” Megan said. “If any occur to you, you know where I am. Now I’ll turn you over to one of our more experienced technicians. Her name is Maureen Jefferson. She’ll be training you in nuclear transfer.”

“Sounds good to me,” Deborah said.

“As a final point,” Megan said, “I’d like to suggest you wear more sensible shoes.”

“Oh?” Deborah asked innocently. She glanced down at her high heels, which looked good despite the previous day’s rigors. “You have a problem with these?”

“Let’s just say they are inappropriate,” Megan said. “I don’t want you slipping on the tile and breaking a leg.”

“I wouldn’t want that either,” Deborah said.

“As long as we understand each other,” Megan said. She glanced briefly at Deborah’s skirt, which was revealing a lot of leg, but didn’t say anything. Instead she stood up, and Deborah did the same.

Maureen Jefferson was a twenty-two-year-old African American woman whose color was like coffee with a lot of cream. There was a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose. She wore her hair bobbed, which showed off to maximum advantage an impressive collection of pierced earrings. Her eyebrows were quite arched, giving her an expression of continual amazement.

With the introductions complete, Megan took her leave. At first Maureen didn’t say anything but merely shook her head as Megan walked back down the central aisle. It wasn’t until Megan disappeared into her office that Maureen turned to Deborah: “She’s a piece of work, wouldn’t you say?”

“She is a bit rote,” Deborah said.

“My guess is she gave you her stock lecture on laboratory cleanliness.”

“I’m not sure,” Deborah said. “I didn’t listen to too much of it.”

Maureen laughed. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine, girl. What do you go by, Georgina or what?”

“Georgina,” Deborah said. Using the alias always made her pulse quicken.

“My friends call me Mare, like a female horse,” Maureen said.

“Then Mare it is,” Deborah said. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get down to business. I’ve got a double-headed dissecting microscope set up here so we can be looking at the same field.

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