Chapter Text
“So you want us to invest in a new body of research not based on any existing work that you’re also not willing to share with us at this time?”
The man sitting across from Larissa Weems had asked this question three times now. Larissa was beginning to think he was stalling until he could devise a polite way to ask her to leave. She’d had enough.
“Look, I have lots of interested parties; if you don’t want to be involved in this, then that’s fine.”
“Lots of interested parties, like who?” the man said, leaning back, his arms crossed.
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information,” Larissa said.
The man smirked, “Alright, well, I wish you the best of luck with your research.”
Larissa stood up and left.
This was the seventh investor she’d met with to try and get her work funded. All rejections. She understood she was working against herself. Each one had asked the obvious question, what’s the research?
But Larissa couldn’t reveal it. The work was much, much further along than anyone but Larissa knew, and revealing it would bring too many questions. Not even Victor Thorpe had realized she’d begun working on it while she was still head of research at ThorpCorp. But how could she not hide it? Everything she’d helped develop had been harvested for its military applications. The first project, a single-manned flying apparatus or glider as the team had labeled it, had been intended to be used as a rescue vehicle. Now, it was in its second round of development, with its boosting capabilities enhanced to support weaponry.
Not this time. Larissa knew she nearly had it, a replicating nanomachine capable of re-writing a person’s molecular structure; the applications were remarkable. The potential for good, unlimited. The potential for harm, equally so.
Even with the risks leaving ThorpCorp had been a difficult choice. As much as Larissa disliked it, she couldn’t deny the advantages. So many talented minds to work with, so many resources at her disposal. If she was still there, she could’ve finished this work by now, but instead, she’d have to manage with what she had. She had been able to acquire a lab for herself and the necessary equipment. But it was all so expensive, now she was running on fumes. She’d not even managed to find any research assistants. She’d been able to advertise at New York University thanks to her recent tenure, but nobody had shown up. This afternoon would be the last scheduled time for meeting with candidates. She needed assistants, and she needed investors. Without either, she wouldn’t be able to finish her work; she had to finish it.
Larissa Weems sat in her office looking at the space where she should have a stack of applications. She was about to pack it in when a knock at the door caught her attention.
Quickly straightening herself, “Yes, come in.”
A young athletic-looking blonde woman walked in. She walked right up to Larissa, taking her hand shaking it enthusiastically, a wide grin plastered across her face.
“Hello, Professor Weems; I’m Enid Sinclair.”
The two sat talking about Enid’s current academic record, extra-curricular activity, and interest in molecular biology. Larissa had to admit; she liked Enid. Enid didn’t have the best academic track record, but she was enthusiastic and listened well.
Enid fidgeted with her hands, “I know you must have lots of candidates for your assistant role, but I could really use the money right now, and I know that working with you will mean I get to contribute to something incredible.”
“Ah… Yes, that’s right, it’s quite a competitive position.”
Enid nodded, a glum look on her face.
Larissa felt a tad guilty; the poor girl looked terribly crestfallen. Perhaps she was enjoying having someone actually want to work with her too much.
Larissa sighed, “Can you be on time?”
The girl’s eyes shot up, wide with excitement.
“Yes, absolutely!” She said.
“I can’t pay you very much; the work we’d be doing is expensive as it is, and much of my current resources are tied up along with… all of the investor money.”
Dammit, she thought, if only she’d secured something, now she would lose the only person who seemed to actually want to assist her.
“That’s completely fine.”
Larissa was stunned to see the girl still smiling at her.
“You’re sure?” Larissa couldn’t decide if the young woman was naive or desperate; either way, if she was enthusiastic and punctual, that was good enough for her.
“I’ve followed your work for some time now, and I think you’re incredible. I think you have a gift, and it’s important that people with gifts work to use them for the betterment of others.”
The passion in the girl’s voice reminded Larissa of an echo of her own from so many years ago.
“I agree,” Larissa said, nodding, “So what’s your gift then?”
The girl smiled wide, “I’m really funny.”
It was evening; the lab was cast exclusively in a pallid fluorescent light. Larissa heard the door open; turning, she felt her good mood evaporate.
“Wow, Larissa, I see you’ve landed on your… feet” Victor Thorpe’s condescending tone echoed off the walls creating the effect of a jeering choir.
“What are you doing here Victor?” Larissa asked, cautious as Victor crossed to her.
He held his hands up in a sign of surrender.
“I come in peace, Larissa. Look, I know you were working on something at ThorpCorpe; I have the place under 24/7 surveillance; you don’t think I wouldn’t notice you working on your side project?”
Panic settled in Larissa’s stomach. How could she have been so stupid?
Noticing the shift in her expression, “It’s fine, it’s absolutely fine. If anything, I owed you one.”
Victor placed a hand on the tall woman’s shoulder.
“I get it; you believe in this one; it mattered to you enough to leave your team, your future, to lie to me.”
Larissa stood still; she knew Victor. He was a snake. She had seen him in hundreds of meetings; he would coil himself around you with assurances, put you off balance and then strike.
“But you can’t do this without me.”
“I can”
“You literally can’t; I made sure of it.”
Larissa felt sick, of course, the continual rejections; she’d assumed it was her, but no, this made sense. Victor had soured the investors against her.
“What do you want Victor? You can’t have my research.”
“I just want to help. You want to do this work; you want to finish, so I want to support an old friend. I’ll be your sole investor, I will stay out of your hair, you continue to work, finish, and should you generate any profits from your invention, I’ll take seventy percent.”
Larissa couldn’t believe it. Seventy percent? That was all. Larissa couldn’t care less about money. So what!? She wanted something bigger; she wanted to save the world. Larissa felt relief, this wasn’t ideal, but she could do this.
“I control the research, no interference?” Larissa eyed him carefully.
Victor smiled and held out his hands in a placative gesture.
“I promise.”
Larissa arrived back at her apartment late. Today had been a good day. She’d secured her funding and hired a reliable research assistant. Soon, she’d start work in earnest.
She unbound her hair, letting it fall to her back. She removed her shoes and neatly placed them by the door. Slowly she undressed, putting each item of clothing away precisely. Lastly, she went to the mirror in her bedroom and sat on the chair before it. She took one of her makeup removal pads and began dabbing away at her face. After a few minutes, she looked in the mirror.
Strange to think that this face she’d seen for so many years since the accident still felt like someone else's. The burns had been severe; at first, she’d hardly recognized herself. She’d refused to see anyone while she was in the hospital, but then Victor had come to visit accompanied by two scientists Larissa hadn’t recognized. Victor had offered her a revolutionary new recovery treatment, a regenerative cell therapy that could repair her damaged tissue. When she’d asked the cost, he’d just placed a hand on her shoulder and told her that he owed her one.
It had been excruciating. The therapy had been applied daily for months, and every time it had felt like the skin on her face was melting. Her screams had been her only companion, so overwhelmed that she’d thought she’d lose her mind. But then, just when she thought she couldn’t continue, it had ended. When she saw herself for the first time in a mirror, it was night and day. She looked alien; her face was her own physically; it looked like her but… different; where the skin had recovered, it seemed to be shifting, moving, but nobody else could ever see it except her. A psychodramatic response had been the official prognosis. Ever since, she’d had to wear heavy makeup to convince herself others couldn’t see it, like a permanent mask, a mockery of her own.
The glass of the mirror smashed as Larissa’s fist collided with it. Almost in a stupor, she examined the blood now trickling down her arm.
“I should clean this up,” she said out loud to herself.