Still smiling, Byington eyed her silently for a few seconds. “Ellen, when word of Oraloxin reaches the media, you’ll become an overnight sensation. At least in the short term, your life is going to change dramatically.” Her grin gave way to an expression of concern. “You do know that, don’t you?”

Horton nodded, fighting off a shudder. In the past, she had felt ambivalent about the attention Oraloxin might bring her. Never one for the spotlight, she still welcomed the validation and praise she might have expected from her peers and colleagues. However, she never dreamt of the kind of international celebrity that news of Oraloxin’s effectiveness against MRGAS might bring. She wanted no part of that circus.

“Andrea’s right, Ellen.” Martineau said with a nod. “It may take a few days for the media to learn of Oraloxin and you, n’est-ce pas? But Ellen, once they do … ,” he said, holding out a hand to her, as if helpless to intervene, “you can expect their full attention.”

“They’ll call you at all hours,” Byington added, “and they’ll wait for you outside the office and home, hoping for an interview, or at least a sound bite.”

“I can imagine,” Horton said distantly. She had a sudden flash of insight as to where the conversation was heading.

“Trust me, Ellen.” Byington leaned forward and patted Horton’s arm. “They’re experts at twisting words and taking things out of context. Luckily, we have a perfectly able communications department here. Their job is to keep you at arm’s length from the media.”

Horton was tempted to pull her arm away, but instead she just nodded.

“Communications has already drafted a press release. You should be getting the e-mail any time.” Byington glanced to Martineau, before turning back to Horton straight-faced. “We think it might be best for you not to comment publicly to anyone until you’ve cleared it through Communications and us.”

“That makes sense,” Horton said, silently adding, For you. From the bone-marrow side effect to MRGAS’s similarity to the bug engineered in SeptoMed’s own lab, Oraloxin’s closet was rapidly filling with skeletons. She now understood that Byington and Martineau were desperate to keep the press from opening that closet door.

Martineau’s expression was as placid as ever, but his eyes had crystallized with the same icy dangerousness she glimpsed the previous evening. “Ellen, it would be in everyone’s best interest—especially yours—if you didn’t speak to anyone about Oraloxin.” He took a step closer to her. She smelled his rich cologne and felt his hot breath against her cheek. But this time, it didn’t stir arousal. Instead, she experienced a chill, aware of the menacing undertone to his silence. “Do you not agree, Ellen?”

47 - Seattle, Washington

47

Seattle, Washington