The night had fallen, approaching seven o'clock, and the conference was drawing to a close.

The host called out his name, and under the watchful eyes of many, he walked up to the podium to deliver the closing remarks for the academic exchange.

During his speech, his phone vibrated twice, but he couldn't answer it.

For some reason, a sense of foreboding washed over him, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

He began with a brief summary of the conference's main topics, touching on them with a finesse only Owen Reynolds could muster.

The audience was captivated, nodding along, yet those who were familiar with his presentations noticed something off about Owen today...

Usually, his presentations were detailed and methodical, but today he wrapped things up quickly, bowed, and left the auditorium under the astonished gazes of his colleagues.

He immediately returned the missed call, only to be greeted with the message:

"Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently busy..."

It wasn't that he was blocked; the line was just occupied.

Unable to reach Owen, Mamie thought of someone else who could help.

She remembered the day of the lab's grand opening when Professor Hans from the Computer Science Department showed up and seemed quite close to Roseanne.

Mr. Olson had a widework; maybe he could assist?

Hans had been leading a programming team to a competition in another country and was anxiously waiting outside the venue when Mamie called. Already on edge, the news of Roseanne's disappearance sent him into a panic.

Knowing Owen's busy schedule made missing calls understandable, but if someone else could be contacted...

An idea suddenly struck him, "I'm about to wrap up here and can't step away. But... I'll text you a number in a bit. Call it and explain the situation; they'll know what to do."

"Thanks, Mr. Olson," Mamie replied.

No sooner had their call ended than Mamie received a text.

She dialed immediately:

"Hello, I'm Mamie. Mr. Olson gave me your number. He said you could help... It's about Roseanne..."

Corley, initially confused, snapped to attention at the mention of "Roseanne."

At the time, he was at a dinner, locked in a half-hour standoff over a mere 0.5% concession.

Corley, understanding the other

et

party's tactics to minimize their loss, remained calm, casually pointing out flaws in their product during dinner, catching them off guard.

The mood shifted drastically, and as they deliberated their next move, Corley's phone rang.

In the next moment, the composed and decisive man excused himself and left...

Leaving a multimillion-dollar deal hanging?

His deputy was stunned.

Corley had always been able to separate personal from professional, never missing a beat until now...

He awkwardly covered, "Apologies,

everyone. Mr. Sullivan had to attent

to a personal matter. I'll stay

drink with you..."

His excuse was spot-on, unbeknownst to him.

---

Back at the base's hotel, Grace had just finished showering, stepping out with her cheeks flushed from the steam.

Her team had completed their

collection of ten basic plantnoveldrama

specimens, meaning they could

wrap up and receive their term grades.

Feeling elated, she pondered her plans for the next day, Friday. Planning to return by five, she'd be back at school by six.

Perhaps she should take the initiative to ask Murray out for dinner?