Escape (Alliance Book 1) Read Free

to quite keep up like they used to. God, she felt so, so old now. Ancient, even. Chronology be damned, she'd seen far too much death for her 26 years to ever feel young again. And far too much of that death were babies, so the mere thought of being with a guy in that way was a turn off.
    The doors to the lab were wide open, and her staff moved timidly against the wall while Jason caught his breath enough to explain: "The extra dose of AlterX in the bonobos seems to have worked, when combined with half the Ovix pill. Twenty three of the bonobo females have been thoroughly taken care of by the males for weeks now, and yet, not a one has the CRH in their system. It's like it just didn't take. Basically, not a one of them is pregnant..." He slumped into his swivel chair and stared at the techs, then at her. Nobody said anything. It was as if this news itself was too fragile to acknowledge fully, to speak of in anything but a whisper.
    She grabbed her notes, stuffed them unseen into her briefcase, and bolted out of the lab, not bothering to close the door behind her. She needed a drink. Someplace quiet. And a bit of time. A tall Gin and Tonic, single in a double, a bit of time to process what she, what they may have just accomplished by accidentally mixing related meds in a single sample.
    The technician responsible for dosing this group of bonobo females left unexpectedly and the new kid, and he really was a kid, didn't bother to read the notes before medicating the girls with AlterX. It was an accident. She was furious the day she found out and fired the kid. Jeremy, or something that sounded like Jeremy, just out of college, eager blue eyes through the specs, decent smile, too young to see bodies of dead babies.
    The pub was warm and smoky. She beat the snow off her boots on the stoop at the door and walked to her favorite spot in the darker corner of the place, farthest space away from the door where the bartender could still hand her a drink. She felt far too weary to walk to get the refill if she'd need one. Charlie, who's been tending the bar here for as long as she could remember, could always tell if she needed to talk or be left alone. He sensed immediately that it was her alone night, made her a drink she didn't have to ask for, slid the payment token silently across the counter and walked away, quiet as a ghost.
    She had always admired Charlie for that bizarre ability to read people's moods. Or maybe it was just her moods he read so well. She never quite got the hang of paying attention to people around her. Not Jeremy, Jerry... Jerry Stiles. Single mom raised, smart kid, scholarship to Cornell or some such, a quiet, decent sort. She pulled out her phone and dialed 2 for Jason, "I need you to call Jerry and hire him back with my apologies. I want him on my team. Tell him I was in a lousy mood. Estrogen deficiency, whatever. I want him back... Thanks."
    She was distractedly doodling on a napkin with her immaculately un-chewed pencil. Jason chewed all of his, to barely centimeter-sized nubs. She always razzed him about that lousy habit, telling him that it was impossible for him to ever hide his DNA, constantly wearing gloves notwithstanding. She giggled to herself at the thought of Jason ever needing to hide anything from anyone. That man-child was an open book. A very thorough and efficient open book. And not altogether bad looking. But he was far too taken with her fame, such as it was, and her reputation as an anti-sexer to ever see her that way. Just as well , she thought. Just as well .
    She looked up at the sound of ice clinking. Charlie refilled her drink without asking if she'd wanted one. She did. She had allowed Jason to look into him once, years ago, when it seemed everyone was trying their damndest to make her stop her research. They were all afraid for her then, and walking home alone, going to a pub, none of these seemed safe.
    She needed her alone time then more than ever, and so she conceded to Jason