Page 101 of Sky Song
“Actually, I have.”
“Then maybe you can put my fears to rest, Dr. Ragberg.”
“What fears, Emma?” he asked quietly.
“There are strange blue lights in the supply room. I watched Yanet come out, and I noticed steel walls. I didn’t realize there’s another floor underneath the lab, but I saw stairs. Is there another floor, Dr. Ragberg?”
He fought very hard against fidgeting, and only a single twitch of his knee visible under the table gave away the fact that he’d come close to losing that fight.
“I’m afraid the blue lights and the steel door gave you the wrong impression, Emma. But regardless of what your imagination tells you, it’s only a sophisticated, climate-controlled storage room. I assure you.”
Disappointment hit her hard.
He was lying.
“I asked Yanet to let me in so I could see for myself,” she said, “but she refused.”
“As she ought to have done.” Dr. Ragberg shifted in his chair, still maintaining the air of dignified superiority. “I find your behavior highly inappropriate. In fact, I can’t believe it’s you, Emma. What is it that you’re trying to discover?”
Cricket smiled without mirth. “It’s never been my intent, Dr. Ragberg, to look for anything at all. But I simply can’t ignore facts that stare me in the face.”
“What facts?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if the names Delta, Zeta, and Epsilon meant anything to him, but she couldn't give away the fact that she’d seen the files.
Instead, she asked, “Do you know what happened to Kim Creek?”
He blinked, not expecting this curve ball. “Of course not,” he sputtered. “How would I know? And your insinuation that I might, is preposterous.”
“And Igor, the guy I replaced, what did he die from?”
“I see.” He stood up abruptly. “Emma, that’s enough. Your imaginings are as wild as they are baseless. Moreover, they have no bearing on the subject of your behavior towards Yanet. I wanted to discuss the issue privately with you, of which decision I’m more regretful with each passing minute. But I thought I’d give you a chance to tell your side of the story. After all, you and I have some… common history. I am also your doctor.”
“Doctor,” Cricket repeated bitterly. “What is going on there,doctor? Why all the hush-hush? Is it research? Some kind of experimental medical trials?”
Dr. Ragberg suddenly looked tired and haggard. He didn’t have good control over his facial expression, a trait highly inadvisable for someone dealing with illegal research. “You’rewildly off base, Emma, and if you weren’t, none of it concerns you.”
“Unless…”
He didn’t let her argue. “Don’t. You are here, and you have a job and a house, and your health has improved. Your life is great, and you should enjoy it, not get into catfights with your co-workers and make mountains out of molehills. ”
She raised her eyes to his, all trust gone. She hated herself for the person she’d become, full of suspicion and seeing duplicity. She wished she remained naïve.
“So you admit there’s something unethical going on?”
He gave a reserved scoff. “What is it you’re hoping I’ll admit to?”
“You can stop it,” Cricket said with force. “Or things will only get worse. You know it, don’t you? It makes you scared.”
Dr. Ragberg came over to the chair where Cricket sat and leaned down, taking her hands in his. “Emma, listen to me. There’s nothing going on. Yanet is in charge of some sensitive equipment stored in the supply room, and she feels overly responsible. Leave her alone. Understand?”
She nodded.
“I put you in the team lead position, and perhaps I shouldn't have. It was too soon.”
“I’m grateful that you did, Dr. Ragberg.” Cricket gazed into his kind, concerned eyes, feeling echoes of that old unshakable security, like she used to feel with him, her Dr. Ragberg who could do nothing wrong.
“You’re deserving, but it’s a lot.” He gave a little nod as if that was it, the perfect cop out. Yes, that was what happened to Cricket. Stress. A perfect explanation. His kind eyes were intent. “Now. Go home. Take a week off to clear your head. Rest. Sleep. Take long walks. I can prescribe a mild sedative to help you sleep.”
