Page 26

B ent over her desk, peering at the mycelium plucked from Lauren’s heart through her hand lens for the thousandth time, the early morning sun streamed in to illuminate the hyphae.

jotted notes in her journal next to her sketch before placing the mycelium on wax paper, folding it over to keep the network safe.

A knock came at her door.

“Come in,” said, shoving a book over her mess of notes. She almost had the research paper ready. Almost.

Gibbs came in looking sheepish. “What are you working on over there?”

set her lens down and twisted in her chair. “A paper on the effect of urban climate on flora.” In truth, she’d hardly touched any of her true assignments in days. She was going to be surviving on crappy coffee for another week, it would seem.

Gibbs nodded noncommittally. “Hey, sorry I snitched about your migraines to Murdoch.” He shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. “I was just worried about you, and you’ve stayed locked in here most days, and you keep strange hours, I just?—”

“Thanks for your concern, Gibbs.” She felt bad for the lad. He had a heart of gold, but he didn’t think through his words very often. “I really do appreciate it.”

He smiled, genuine but still a bit on the nervous side it seemed. “I know we’re all cramming for midterm exams right now, but some of us are going out to Mulligan’s for some much-needed time to blow off steam tonight. Emmy and Dony are in and I think they’re bringing a couple of friends. I invited Imogen, too.” He looked at his shoes, a little grin on his face.

“You still talk to Imogen?” asked. She couldn’t help but root for Gibbs’s happiness, but she wasn’t sure Imogen was it.

“No. Not really. I saw her in the dining hall yesterday and sort of panic-invited her.”

suppressed a laugh. There was the Gibbs she knew and loved. “Are you panic-inviting me now?”

He looked stricken. “No! I really want you to come. I think you could do with a break.”

“Thanks, Gibbs. Yeah. I’ll stop by.”

Gibbs’s smile stretched across his entire face. “8:00.”

He bustled out and returned to her research. If she skipped her morning classes, she could get it done. Get it to Sonder before her 3:00 lecture and be somewhat freer to enjoy the pub with the gang. She really did need some time off. Not as much as she needed more mycelium and mushroom samples, though.

cursed. One thing at a time.

By the time noon arrived, she’d only left her room to refill her coffee and tea on a rotation, make herself drink a glass of water, and once to use the toilet.

She cited her last resource, closed all the books scattered across her bed, floor, desk and windowsill, and threw on a Trinity hoodie that belonged to Emmy. Rushing across campus, she was breathless and more than a little flushed from the cold wind when she burst into Sonder’s office.

He looked up when she entered, his face breaking into surprise before a smile crawled across his lips. She’d never seen him smile like that and it was then that she realised she herself was smiling like a maniac and he was probably mirroring her.

Proudly, she handed the thick research journal to him with a flourish. “I’ve done it.”

One eyebrow raised, Sonder took the bound stack of papers, his eyes on her instead of the research. “I’ve never seen you so. . .”

Her smile fell. This was a moment of academic achievement for her. A moment of scientific achievement. Shouldn’t there be a marching band or fireworks? Not a bemused professor who wasn’t even looking at her paper? “‘ So ’ what?”

“Dressed down.”

Confused, looked at the hoodie she’d thrown over brown corduroys from days ago. “Oh. Well, I haven’t done much but work on that research so look at it, would you?”

He smirked and put on his glasses.

She watched, pacing, chewing her thumbnail as he read, scratching at the rough stubble on his chin and taking notes here and there.

“,” he said after a few pages without looking at her. “Please stop fidgeting or go wait in the corridor.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled and busied herself looking at the busts of William Rutherford Sanders and Elizabeth Garrett Anderson. Thrice he told her not to touch anything, and thrice she didn’t listen.

Finally, Sonder took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “This is?—”

He shook his head in what she thought might be dismay? astonishment? and she came to sit across from him.

“Jesus. It’s brilliant,” he finally finished.

She blinked twice before she could manage words. “Thank you. I’d like for you to turn it in to HPSC. I think it could help.”

Sonder baulked, sitting forward and covering the paper almost protectively. “ HPSC ? No. You can’t—” He broke off, shaking his head vehemently. “, you can’t show this to anyone.”

She sat forward in her chair. “You just said it was brilliant.”

“It is.”

“Are you worried I won’t credit you? Because I did.” She pointed at the page open in front of him. “Just there.”

“Credit?” Sonder huffed a humourless laugh. “No, I’m not worried about getting credit.” He glanced at his watch. “When is your next class?”

“3:00.”

“Let’s go get some tea, then. Shall we?”

As they strolled across campus, Sonder clearly wasn’t as anxious to have this discussion as was, and they talked of the group therapy session his students had taken part in a few days prior instead.

“Marguerite seems to think my students need psychiatric help after performing autopsies.” He smiled again and noticed she was beginning to look for those smiles. Glimpses behind a dark curtain.

“Do you think they got anything out of the session?”

Sonder shrugged, holding open the campus coffee shop door for her. “Maybe. I think it helped them decompress together—remember they aren’t alone. That was my aim in agreeing to the thing in the first place, anyway.”

All the natural light flooding in through the windows made the weather feel less dreary.

“I think we’ve had you pegged all wrong, Dr Frankenstein.”

Sonder laughed, full and real. It was so sonorous and infectious that every female in the café looked in their direction, and couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. “Let’s not let that get out.” His gaze met hers, a smirk playing at one side of his mouth. “I like being spooky.”

“You’re a regular Fox Mulder.”

“A what?”

laughed. “It’s a new American show on the telly my roommates watch. I take it you’re not one for much television, either.”

“No, not really.” He unwound his scarf and tucked it in the crook of his elbow. “I do enjoy films, I just don’t have much available time for them. Television programs, on the other hand, don’t much interest me.”

They reached the counter and the pretty girl behind it smiled dreamily at Sonder. “I’ll have black tea and whatever the lady here will have. Put it on my tab.”

“Certainly, Professor.” The barista eyed him with barely concealed lust, but Sonder didn’t seem to notice.

ordered a dark roast with a dash of cream and a sprinkle of brown sugar, feeling Sonder’s eyes on her the entire time. He’d found a little secluded table in the corner and was indeed watching her when she turned around. She suddenly hated that she was in crumpled trousers and a stained hoodie. When was the last time she washed her hair? Oh god, or brushed her teeth?

She sat across from him, self-conscious. A moment later, the barista brought over his steaming tea and bent over way too far to pop the lid on the cup. snorted at the young woman’s blatant display of her cleavage. But Sonder didn’t notice, he was looking at .

“What’s so funny, hm?” he asked as he pulled off his jacket when the girl walked away frustrated that he hadn’t paid attention to her.

“You didn’t notice all the women in here looking at you?”

Confused, his attention swept across the café. “No, I hadn’t. I thought you said everyone was scared of me.” He took a sip of his tea.

“They are, but that doesn’t mean people don’t also think you’re—and this is a direct student quote—‘ fuckable in the most scholarly way.’ ”

Sonder choked on his tea. laughed and he straightened his tie, clearing his throat. “Well then.”

The girl brought ’s drink and fair slammed it down in front of her. bit back another laugh, as did Sonder, but colour was visible high on his cheeks above his scruff.

“Aw, he’s flustered,” she teased.

“Not by her,” he muttered, fiddling with the lid of his tea. “I hate takeaway cups,” he changed the subject and cursed, removing the black plastic lid from the paper and polymer cup.

saw her opportunity and pounced. “Why can’t I show that essay to Achilles House?” she said without preamble.

“Jesus, you’re terrible at segues. How do you even know about Achilles House , hm?”

’s face heated at her misstep, but his eyes were glittering as he watched her like a wolf tracks a trapped hare.

She settled on not answering. “I worked hard on that, Sonder. It’s the height of my academic achievement”—she moved her hands erratically as she spoke—“something I’ve worked six years on.”

“That’s clear. It was thoroughly researched and profound.” He sniffed the tea sans lid.

“Then—” She broke off and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“My point is, not everyone in academia is like you, . It’s a very political world and you’re orbiting too close to the sun here.”

“I’m not na?ve enough to have missed that,” she snapped, “but?—”

“Go on.” He sipped at his tea, watching her over the rim of his cup. “Actually, I can’t do this.” Sonder sat up straight and began looking around. “I need this in a real cup. It’s part of the reason I come here, they serve drinks in real cups.”

suppressed a chuckle, some of her frustration dispelling. “You’re dreadfully neurotic.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“What if we walk and talk? Then you have to have a takeaway cup.”

“I like that idea, but you’re mistaken.” He rose and took her coffee.

“Hey!”

“I’ll be right back.” He returned a moment later with two steaming mugs. “Now, about that walk.”

When they made it outside in the cool, leaf-strewn air, jumped right back in. “Are you just trying to steal this research from me and use it as your own?” she accused him only half-playfully.

“Oh, so you don’t trust me,” he shot back, “but you trust a government entity?”

“Aren’t you part of a government entity?”

His attention snapped to her, his jaw ticking.

“You’re a professor at a public college,” she clarified, studying his profile.

His shoulders visibly lost some of their tension. “Ah. Public-private partnership, as it were.”

frowned down at the dark pool of coffee in her mug. “I know academia can be a political place with hierarchies and corruption like any other faction of society, and I stand by my point earlier this semester that a cure will be handed to the elite first, but don’t we all want the Plague eradicated? We have that common goal, at least.”

He looked at her sidelong. “Do we? Are you certain of that? Or is it a power struggle to see who gets the glory for curing it?”

She clamped her mouth shut and walked on past the library, cradling her already lukewarm mug in her hands.

“My point is this: the things you have pieced together are not safe in the wrong hands.”

“And you believe HPSC and its Society are unsafe?”

He stopped and faced her, mirroring him. “You’re suggesting that the spore in Patient Zero was foreign flora of unknown origin acting as a biotoxin and spreading. Becoming more .”

“Becoming the control centre for a fastidious pathogen that needs the correct conditions to thrive.”

Sonder licked his lips and looked off in the distance. “It’s genius, , but dangerous.”

She abandoned her coffee on a bench beside them and stood straighter. “Is that not what you also suspected? Why you took me to the library and asked for my thoughts in the first place?”

“Of course it is.” He set his nearly full mug on the bench next to hers.

“Then what , Sonder? What’s the point if we don’t use this knowledge for good?”

He swore and looked around them quickly before grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the shadows between two buildings, her heart catching in her throat.

“What if I wanted to show you something?” he pressed. “Something I’ve been working on myself for the last six years.”

She had to crane her neck to look up at him. He was so close she was nearly backed against the stone wall, his breath mingling with hers. “I would say yes.”

He took a step away. Ran a hand through his hair. Looked at her intently. “All right.” He bit his bottom lip, eyes darting around the shadows. “All right,” he repeated. “You’d better get to class. We can continue this later.”

Confused by his sudden onset of nerves, merely nodded and walked back out into the watery daylight.

“.”

She turned back, unable to make out his features in the shadows, his tall, lithe body ensconced in darkness feeling familiar.

“Where did you get the samples you had taped in your research?”

A little moth took flight in her abdomen, an aftershock of a migraine sprouting in her skull. “A friend gave them to me.”

Sonder chuckled. Low. Deep. Velvety.

froze.

Oh fuck . She knew with absolute certainty where she’d heard that toe-curling laugh before.

“Have a nice evening, .” He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and strolled further into the shadows.