Tom spoke quickly, trying to cut the edge of panic that had flickered in Sarah’s eyes. “At least this means that there is no further question of the Gerontology budget being cut. I doubt if we’ll even need a meeting of the board now.” Nobody smiled. “Clap clap clap. I thought you’d be delighted.”

“We’re not surprised,” Charlie said. “It was obvious as soon as we compared the bloods.”

“Tell me, what does it all imply?”

“How should we know, Tom?” Sarah’s voice was high, nervous. “It suggests a lot of things.”

“Some of them downright strange,” Phyllis added. “Like why Mrs. Blaylock came here.”

“Smart girl,” Tom said. “That is indeed what Sarah and I have been trying to understand. It seems as if she somehow discovered Sarah’s work and was drawn to her—for some reason we do not know.”

Sarah’s face had become waxlike. Concealing. Sarah hid her feelings. “Your thoughts, Doctor Roberts?”

“That’s an unfair question, Tom.”

“You thrive on unfair questions.”

She tossed her head, her chin jutting up. Her lips were set in a line, her eyes glaring defiantly at him. It was pitiful to see how hard she had to work to hide fear.

“I think we’ll have to pull together,” Tom said. “I’m going to declare Miriam Blaylock a special project and get myself appointed director. We’ll budget it from the general fund, go around Hutch.”

“Why is that necessary? Hutch’ll cooperate completely. He might not agree with everything we say and do, but he’s a scientist, he sees the importance of this work.”

“Thank you, Sarah. May I remind you who it was just about destroyed your Gerontology lab? I can settle it all with a single telephone call to Sam Rush. He’ll confirm our request before he even thinks of Hutch.”

“Hutch founded this lab!”

“He’s as good as dead. I’m very sorry, but it happens.”

“I’m going to tell him—”

“No, ma’am. You have your job and I have mine. Let’s not let our differences come between us.” He held out his hand. “You don’t know a thing about front-office politics.”

There was a silence. “I get the impression that this meeting is concluded,” Charlie said into it. He gave a nervous laugh. “You can count on me boss.”

“I won’t talk to Hutch,” Sarah murmured. “I don’t have time.”

Charlie and Phyllis gathered up their materials and left. Tom sat, trying to feel the impassivity of a Buddha. He expected to get a real chewing-out from Sarah, but instead she went over to the couch and flopped down with her arm once again over her eyes.

Tom seasoned and lit a cigar. Now was a good time for his one shot of the day. He reached up and opened the window so that Sarah wouldn’t complain too much.