Nicola was a highly valued and respected member of the Renicoff. If anyone had their doubts, one look at her office would have assuaged them. Only someone of extremely high status would have been granted the use of so much unnecessary space. Her desk–made of mahogany, no less–was situated out in the open rather than built into the wall, a cushy chair on one side, two standard chairs on the other. Furthermore, it was clear aside from four small metallic rectangles, making the entire wooden monstrosity fairly pointless.

The principal investigator gestured toward one of the standard chairs as she claimed the large one, passing her fingers across two of the rectangles. Two corresponding holoscreens erupted between the women, and Pilar lowered herself onto the edge of a seat, eyes scanning the backwards words and diagrams.

One showed a log of her comings and goings.

One showed data from the study.

If ever there was a time for the voice to claim She knows, as it was wont to do, now would be it. And yet, it remained silent. So Pilar squeezed her fingers, her leg bouncing, but kept her head high, feigning confidence. And innocence.

“You’ve picked up hours lately,” Nicola said, scrolling the log screen but looking through it to the tech.

“Yes. I know I was slacking a bit there for a while–”

“Don’t,” the P.I. cut her off, waving her hand in dismissal. “I never said anything about that. I know you always try your best, Pilar. If that was your best with what you were going through, then that was your best.”

Hot, embarrassing tears stung Pilar’s eyes at the offer of such compassion and understanding. She tried to blink them away before her boss noticed. “Thank you, but I just thought I had some time to make up.”

“Don’t think I don’t know why you switched to nights,” Nicola murmured, almost off-handedly. Pilar considered asking her to explain, but decided not to encourage the woman to dwell on it. The P.I. had already turned her attention to the other holoscreen, again swiping at the air, the figures slowly ascending before disappearing, new lines of text taking their place. “You are always so meticulous with your work.”

Pilar continued to wring her fingers, twisting her grip in her lap where her boss’s vision was obscured by the desk, though she’d forced herself to still her vibrating leg. “Thank you.”

The P.I. closed out the screens, leaving nothing to separate them, her eyes piercing.

Pilar’s head swam with the effort to keep still and slow her breathing, to convince herself her heartbeat wasn’t as audible as it seemed.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Nicola’s intense gaze faltered, and she barked a laugh. “Why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”

All the tension flooded out of her body, and Pilar breathed a sigh of relief. “Jesus, Nic, don’t scare me like that,” she laughed. “Don’t you think it’s a wee bit ominous to pull me into your office out of nowhere in the middle of a shift.” She fell back into her seat, running her hands through her hair and pressing her eyes closed, but smiling.

Nicola laughed again. “Why would you ever think a meeting like this could be a bad thing? You are the perfect tech! And, if you’re interested, I think you would make one incredible P.I.”

Pilar’s eyes popped back open as she straightened in her seat. A new holoscreen rotated to face her properly manifested, detailing a new study. She skimmed it as the older woman continued.

“Just got the approval to begin a new study last week. I want to stay focused on Project Trims, so I’ve decided to appoint someone else as the principal investigator of this new project.” Nicola walked around the table and sat on the edge of her desk, propping herself up with one foot still on the floor, folding her hands over a leg. “And I would like that someone to be you.”

Pilar dragged her eyes from the holoscreen to her boss. She said nothing, knowing the wide, disbelieving grin on her face was answer enough. Jumping up and throwing her arms around Nicola’s neck while squealing only confirmed her acceptance.

“Can I still moonlight on Trims?” she asked as she pulled back.

Nicola threw her head back, groaning in amusement. “Pilar, you won’t have time! You’re in charge of everything on this new project–starting with naming it and hiring the techs.”

The women spent hours discussing the logistics of sharing techs and lab space, where to look for the candidates for the two additional tech roles she’d need to fill, and goals, timelines, and expectations.

Just as they were wrapping up and Pilar was about to leave, Nicola knocked her knuckles on the table and pulled a tablet out of her desk drawer.

“Naming a new project is always the funnest part of getting started,” she said, placing the tablet across the table in front of the new P.I. “Any ideas?”

She tossed a stylus to Pilar, who held it between her fingers, but stared at the tablet blankly. “How’d you come up with Trims?”

The older woman pulled up a new holoscreen, and with a series of swipes and points, a scientific paper displayed. “Centuries ago, there was a widespread fatal disease on Earth. You likely wouldn’t have heard of it due to its fairly swift eradication; it was prevalent for less than a hundred years. But the cure came from a mutation of the TRIM5 gene of a test monkey that just happened to be in that exact research study that was searching for a cure. It was fate, really. Anyway, as we’re looking for a beneficial mutation, I named it after a beneficial mutation that was discovered and used to save an untold number of lives.”

Pilar continued reading the paper even after Nicola finished her explanation, then looked at her mentor. “If we ever find it,” she began, licking her lips, “do you think it’ll save lives?”

Nicola shrugged. “As with any great discovery or advancement, it all depends on what we do with it.”

Pilar laid the stylus on the desk. “I’ll have to think about it. I want it to have meaning just like yours.”

The women said their goodbyes, but as Pilar approached the door, Nicola stopped her.

“One more thing,” she said, looking down and shaking her finger. “I reached out to Twyla, and she agreed to participate. I thought you might want to be the one to do it. It can be your last act as tech on Project Trims.”

The younger woman smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”