“I’m sorry to hear about Dr. Quarles. But this could benefit us. Even Dr. Meyer can’t be in two places at once, and if he spends the day preparing his talk, he can’t pitch his research during the department tours—or one-on-one with the Secretary of Energy byserendipitouslyrunning into her on campus.”
“But you can.”
“Yes.”
She flipped through a document she’d assembled about their department’s work on pulsars and her own LIGO research. Beneath a series of charts tracking the alignment between predicted and observed radio wave frequencies from a neutron star, the page was packed with graphics illustrating the compression and dilation of space-time on Earth from the passage of astrophysical gravitational waves. They were graphics that even a layperson would find compelling; she’d used Bannister’s art as inspiration. The Secretary of Energy’s position was a political appointment, and she couldn’t make assumptions about the depth of Elise McCandless’s science expertise.
Bracing a hand against Nadine’s desk to relieve the pressure on her feet, she went on, “Everything that Dr. Meyer communicates to the Secretary will need to happen during his presentation. Which means that I can redirect the conversation—or refute something in it—if I need to.”
“Erin, you don’t…” Nadine’s lips pursed. But then she just shook her head and reached for the document. “What’s your plan for Secretary McCandless?”
“Our research explores renewable interstellar energy sources and how the movement of astrophysical bodies impacts space-time. It’s groundbreaking work. Or ground-rippling work, in my case. I can’t let a slumping economy stymie that. I’ll figure out a way to talk privately—or semi-privately—with her today. Even better, I’ll corner someone from the Office of Science. They’ll have more understanding of the subject matter and less security to navigate. Marcie explained the tour schedule, so I know where to be to meet them, and when. Once I get their attention, how can they not be fascinated?”
“While quantum physics, on the other hand, is generally incomprehensible to everyone except experts—”
“—especially with Dr. Meyer speaking. If he sticks to his normal presentation playbook, a non-specialist audience won’t find him interesting at all. If they even stay awake.”
“But you’re a good speaker, Erin. Though if you could be a kind one, too…”
Shewasa good speaker. Usually.
She’d been headed to Nadine’s office to confirm her plans for the day, but she’d run up against Ethan in the hall, just like on her onboarding day at SVLAC—and the abrupt and level meeting of their eyes—slate and blue starred with mica—with the warm, bitter spice of fresh aftershave prickling her nose (he’d been unshaven before; she would’ve rememberedthis), hair rising on her nape so that she itched to draw her jacket closed over her blouse, wishing that its closure were a zipper rather than delicate gold buttons, something quick and forceful and efficient—followed by a lurch in her stomach—
—Easy, Monaghan—
Damn him.
He wouldn’t rattle her again. Wouldn’t silence her. The shock was over now, her resistance against it—againsthim—was prepared, and this day was too important to bungle over aftershave or disturbing dreams. So:
“Iama good speaker,” she repeated Nadine’s assertion.I will be.Then she glanced at her watch. “And it’s game time.”
The Department of Energy’s tour began with opening remarks and an orientation from the lab’s director over coffee and pastries at the Science and Public Support building. Since maneuvering a scooter in heels was a stunt that even Wes wouldn’t pull, she winced her way over from Modern Physics on foot and arrived just as a government motorcade rolled past the gatehouse. She knew better than to approach the cars, stationing herself instead at the building’s main entrance with her staff badge displayed. Elias Schulz and his assistant walked past her to meet the Secretary, but she focused on the security vanguard advancing toward her location by the doors.
“Welcome to the SVLAC National Laboratory,” she greeted them.
Their faces were expressionless behind the armor of sunglasses and earpieces. Ignoring her, they took up positions flanking the entryway. She moved aside without protest. She’d expected this.
“You’ve already swept the area and know the campus layout, but you might not know that Blue Bottle—that open-air cafe just down Ring Road?—will have better coffee than anything from the cafeteria. Just in case you get a break later.”
No response.
“Also, they make danishes on Fridays.”
Still nothing.
Well, she’d have other opportunities, though it would’ve been better to establish herself now with the Secretary’s security team. Disappointed but undaunted, she was turning away, prepared to try her luck at lunch, when one of the suits behind her coughed.
“What kind of danishes?”
Erin had to suppress a satisfied smile before she answered, “Cream cheese.” Then she kept walking, giving the officials a respectful berth and making no attempt to speak with the Secretary or the staff from the Office of Science.
That would come later.
She was in.
She spent the rest of the morning blocking out her department’s research schedule for the upcoming quarter, assigning Marco Rossi and Sandra O’Connor-Young to oversee data collection cycles for their binary pulsar study and slotting in interns to assist with cleaning the radio wave signal exports. Leah Haddad had experience with running a Fourier transform, didn’t she? Nadine had mentioned the cohort’s various interests and backgrounds while introducing the group to their department. And she was smart but very diffident, so maybe she should lead the intern group’s data review… The facilitation of growth opportunities aside, however, it was mindless work, just playing Tetris with time. Her focus remained on the Department of Energy’s schedule.
9:00 a.m. – Opening remarks, orientation, and breakfast
