“What I seek in a colleague is commitment. A med school graduate knows nothing. No offense. But if they’re able to pass through medical school it means they have the basic intellectual wherewithal to do research. After the initial flash of inspiration that tells you what to look for, most of the success in research lies in doggedness. In covering every angle, tracking down every lead. I’m mixing metaphors but you know what I mean. Dr. Yamamoto was in fact a rather mediocre student, but he exhibited more application than ten other men who had better grades. I can already tell what kind of doctors your colleagues will be. Ms. Wong is desperate to help sick people, and she’ll be very good at it. Mr. McKinley will probably end up doing something flashy but unchallenging, like surgery, and worse yet, plastic surgery.”

Pia didn’t know what to say.

“I’m pleased you made the right decision about the nuns. It shows me that you’re orienting yourself in the direction of research, but I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I made. For me, doing a residency in internal medicine was a big waste of time.”

Rothman paused.

“I think we’re similar in a number of ways.”

Pia’s eyes opened wide, and she flushed and looked down at her feet. She didn’t share Rothman’s newfound comfort in discussing such personal matters.

“I need more help here. Dr. Yamamoto can’t do everything, and I can’t rely on med students rotating in and out of the lab. No offense. The two of us are spread thin, working on salmonella and organogenesis at the same time. But the university is committed to helping us, and I hope we’ll be able to add laboratory staff and take over more lab space to ramp up our organogenesis work. We need at least another researcher. Which is why I’m talking to you about commitment. Although I usually have no time for excuses, tell me why you were late the last couple of days.”

“There’s no excuse, really,” Pia admitted. “But I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” Silently she cursed George for her getting accustomed to him waking her up even though she knew it was totally unfair.

“Why have you been having trouble sleeping? Anxiety?”

“Nightmares.”

“About what, if I may ask?”

“Childhood memories. Ancient history.”

“Pia, I think I need to know more about you. You’ve told me little about yourself even though I’ve tried to be open with you about me.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything!”