Ira continued. “Our … let’s call him a subcontractor … dropped off the information late last night. We have the full specs and formula, including all of their lab results, and this sample of the lotion. I’ve been through all of it, along with Dr. Decker, and I assure you: it’s every bit as valuable as we anticipated.”
The executives erupted in cheers again, and one of them cried out: “Pass it around!”
Ira smiled and tossed the sample bottle to the man. “There you go, Gordon—everybody feel free to try it. Now, normally we’d have to do months of safety testing on a product like this, especially something with an experimental ingredient, but in this case our dear friends at NewYew were kind enough to cover all of that time and expense for us.” The room erupted in a round of applause and laughter, and Ira had to shout to make himself heard. “If we move quickly on marketing and legal, we can have this on the shelves in just four months, and beat NewYew out of … oh, a couple of billion dollars.”
The man on Ronald’s right handed him the bottle of lotion, slightly slimy from so many sampling hands. Ronald passed it along; he’d already tried it, and the bottle was running low. Better to give everyone else a chance. I want everyone in this room to understand exactly what I helped them get.
Ronald’s phone buzzed, vibrating in its belt holster, and he wiped his hands carefully on a napkin. It was a new phone, the best his latest Ibis check could buy, and there was no sense getting steak sauce all over it. He pulled out the phone and yelped in terror.
“It’s NewYew!”
The noise abated slightly as some of the executives stopped talking to look at him. Ronald stood up, holding the phone above his head. “Mr. Brady, it’s NewYew! They’re calling me!”
The room fell silent, suddenly tense.
“Answer it,” Ira hissed. Ronald held it up to his ear, but Ira shook his head. “On speakerphone.”
Ronald nodded, fiddled with the buttons, and set the phone on the table. Nobody breathed. “Hello?”
“Hi,” said a man on the other end, “this is Lyle Fontanelle from NewYew, am I speaking with Ronald Lynch?”
Ronald swallowed, looking at the others in the room. “Yeah, this is Ronald.”
“Excellent, how are you, Mr. Lynch?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m great, thank you,” said Lyle. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m calling to follow up on the product test you participated in a few weeks ago. Have you experienced any oddities or complications with your health since that test?”
“Oddities?” Ronald looked around the room again, shrugging nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Increased appetite or thirst; unexplained weight loss or weight gain; flu symptoms such as vomiting or diarrhea or intense abdominal pain. Dermatological effects such as skin bleaching, or a discoloration of the skin or hair. Deformation of bone or muscle mass—”
“Wait,” said Ronald, “are you serious?” The other men in the room were frowning as the list went on; Ira was giving the phone a look that could shatter stone. “Is any of that stuff likely?” asked Ronald.
Lyle sighed. “No, I’d actually say it’s unlikely, but…” He paused. “Let’s just say I’m concerned.”
“Concerned!” said Ronald. “What do you mean, concerned?”
“We have reason to believe that the product you tested is causing … unexplained biological phenomena,” said Lyle.
The other men in the room were now frantically cleaning their hands, wiping them off on napkins and suit coats and whatever they could reach.
“Mr. Lynch,” said Lyle, “are you there?”
Ronald found his voice. “I’m … fine,” he said. “N-no side effects.”
“That’s great to hear,” said Lyle. “Honestly. I don’t mean to scare you, but if anything develops, I need you to call me immediately. Can you do that?”
“Um…” Ronald’s head was thick and foggy. “Yeah. I can call you.”
“Thank you for your time, and good luck.” The phone hung up, and the room erupted in angry, terrified shouts.
“Bloody hell!” shouted Decker. “Every one of us touched that stuff! What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know!” cried Ronald.
“Be quiet,” said Ira. The men were still frantic, and Ira shouted again with shocking authority. “Be quiet!”
The room went quiet.
“Whatever happens,” said Ira evenly, “you report it to me directly. You don’t talk to anybody else—not your wife, not your doctor, and definitely not NewYew. Is that clear?”
The men nodded.
“We’re going to find out what’s going on,” said Ira. He paused for a moment, his eyes bouncing back and forth as his mind raced through the various ramifications. “We’re going to make ourselves safe, and we’re going to find out what this lotion really does.” He looked at each man in turn, his eyes practically blazing with purpose. “And I promise you, whatever it does, it’s going to do it for us.”
10
Tuesday, May 1
2:02 P.M.
Bellevue Hospital, Manhattan
227 DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD
