Liang looked strong, his face set in rugged determination, breathing evenly. He was standing on his pedals, straining for every last ounce of effort, then sitting as he rode a short flat before the descent began. He reached down and took a water bottle, zipped up his shirt, which he’d opened for ventilation on the climb, stuffed his mouth with some food, drank, and then was out of sight, followed by more team cars and motorbikes fighting through the crowd that had closed up behind Liang.
A loudspeaker was booming news of the other riders in French, but Berman couldn’t make out any of the information. He looked at Jimmy, who gestured with his head for the two of them to leave. Berman followed him and looked down below as the road snaked away. He could see Liang and the caravan following behind him, rounding a bend far below. Jimmy was looking at his watch, then at his cell phone.
“He has a four-minute lead,” Jimmy said. “The rest of the race is spread out, and there is no organized pursuit. Liang will win the stage.”
Although he had seen his rider crown the mountain in triumph, Berman now was second-guessing his decision to avoid the finish of the stage. He realized that he and Jimmy would be stuck on top of the mountain for hours. But he knew that in less than an hour, Liang would win a stage of the Tour de France, and Berman would be halfway toward his goal: unlimited funding for microbivores. An image of his mother came into his head and he shook it away. Not now. He breathed in a deep draft of mountain air and allowed himself a short, self-satisfied smile.
38.
NANO, LLC, BOULDER, COLORADO
WEDNESDAY, JULY 17, 2013, 8:10 A.M. (ONE WEEK LATER)
Pia stood in the familiar Nano parking lot, composing herself. She was hoping that the trouble she had just encountered getting through the guard station wasn’t a harbinger of her general reception and was merely the result of a misunderstanding. She had been held up at the security gate because she was driving Paul’s parents’ old Toyota, not the VW that she was logged into the system with. Even though the guard had seemed to recognize her, he was not willing to let her pass. What had bothered him more than the make of the car was that Pia’s ID no longer worked when he tried to swipe it into the system through his computer. She explained that she had been off work for a considerable period, and she probably had to renew her ID. The guard agreed that she should go straight to the security station and then finally let her through.
Now, as she stood next to her car, Pia wondered if her nerve was failing. She could never recall such a thing, but the Nano buildings suddenly looked huge and foreboding. The sky was low and dark, which didn’t help, and she felt unwelcome. The origin of that feeling was not difficult to discern, because she had received only one piece of correspondence from Nano other than the less-than-friendly call from Mariel while she was still in the hospital. The letter confirmed what Mariel had said, that Pia would have to submit to a physical before she could restart work, but gave no timetable. Pia knew her hospital bills and physical therapy charges had been taken care of by Nano’s insurance plan, but she had no record of the transactions. In the meantime, Mariel Spallek didn’t return any calls or emails, and recently when Pia called, she received an automatic reply that the voice mailbox was full.
Pia couldn’t help but wonder if she was still a bona fide employee of Nano or if she was in a kind of limbo, such as administrative leave. She had been getting her regular pay statements through the mail, so she was still being paid, but these were coming through the bank, not from Nano directly. She had in her possession letters from both of her surgeons and the physical therapy department documenting her considerable progress. She wasn’t totally finished with her rehab, but she believed she was certainly able to work. She felt she had very little alternative to showing up in person to find out what the story was.
The threatening rain began slowly with just a few drops, then it increased. As she stood in the drizzle, trying to summon her resolve, Pia saw a familiar figure recede away from her toward the building entrance. He had pulled in after her but had parked in a reserved section.
“Jason! Hold up a second.”
Jason Rodriguez turned, saw Pia, gave an embarrassed wave, and kept walking. Pia ran after him and planted herself in front of the much taller man.
“Jason, what’s going on? Can’t you stop and say hi?”
“Late, I’m late, Pia, so I can’t stop, really.”
The man’s eyes darted left and right, avoiding Pia’s gaze.
“Paul told me you came to see me in the hospital, when I was asleep. That was kind of you. I wish you’d have come back when I was awake.”
Jason looked down momentarily and caught Pia’s eye. She could see a pained expression on his face.
“What’s the matter, Jason? You seem very uncomfortable talking to me.”
“Mariel . . .” said Jason quietly, before his voice trailed off.
“Mariel? Mariel what, Jason? Mariel told you not to talk to me? What did Mariel say about me?”
“Okay, listen.” Jason’s attention was now fully trained on Pia to the point that she herself had to look away. “Mariel knew I had gone to see you in the hospital, and she wasn’t happy about it. She said you were bad news, and that I needed to keep away from you if I wanted to continue working at Nano. I tried to say that I thought you were a bit aloof but an excellent scientist. Her reply was that there were a lot things I didn’t know.”
“Like what? What was she implying?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“And you just believed her.”
“I’m sorry, Pia, this job is my big break. I’ve been trying to get a job like this for years. You know how it is out there.”
Pia stared at Jason for as long as she could before looking off. She couldn’t believe it. It was as if she were some kind of pariah. She felt like trying to goad Jason into talking to her and tell her what he really thought since he was certainly holding back. But she didn’t have the energy.
“Good luck, Pia,” Jason said after an uncomfortable moment. “I hope things work out, I really do.” He turned up the collar of his jacket and hurried on toward the building.
Pia needed an outlet for her anger, so she took out her phone and, despite the light rain, dialed Mariel Spallek’s number. It was probably best the woman didn’t answer because Pia wasn’t sure what she would have said. On this occasion Mariel’s voice mail did pick up, but Pia didn’t bother to leave a message. Instead she shut and locked the car door and walked quickly toward the Nano entrance.
Normally, she would walk though the doors and directly to the iris scanner by the glass doors leading into the facility, but after what had happened at the security gate, she headed to the security office as she had been advised. Guests and delivery people were instructed by notices to visit the reception desk to the left of the main door. There were a handful of people waiting there. Other Nano employees were arriving in small groups. It was a busy time of day. Security guards were attentive, making sure people went through the scanner and glass partition one at a time. Pia recognized most of them.
In the security office things were calmer, and she went directly to the counter. After the conversation with Jason, she thought there was a good chance that she was going to have trouble. Pia did not recognize the woman staffing the counter. Her name tag read HARRIET PIERSON. An imposing woman of color, she wore a military-style uniform like all the other security staff. Pia had her ID in her hand, which Harriet took without comment. She was obviously expecting Pia. She tried to swipe it into the computer, but as had happened at the gate, it apparently didn’t work, because she then disappeared into the back room.
Pia waited. To pass the time she looked back into the main foyer of the building. People were arriving in greater numbers, so a short line was starting to form in front of the iris scanner.
Harriet returned to the counter and handed Pia her I
D. “Okay, Dr. Grazdani,” she said, “I guess you haven’t been here for a number of weeks.”
Pia nodded and raised her left arm, which was still in a sling with a forearm cast. She knew she looked slightly bedraggled with the sling, cast, and baseball cap to conceal her uneven hair. She was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt.
“Anyway,” Harriet continued. “I’ve updated your ID. You shouldn’t have any more trouble with it at the gate.”
Pia thanked the woman. She left the security office and headed out toward the short line waiting to go through the iris scanner. She was more sanguine now about getting up to her lab since the visit to the security office had been so easy. As she waited, she recognized the guard standing off to the side, monitoring the people as they passed through the checkpoint. It was Milloy, the particularly officious guard she’d had a mild run-in with before.
When it was her turn, Pia stepped up to the scanner and faced it. She waited but there was no expected beep. Instead it flashed red for fail.
Pia was trying for the third time when Milloy approached her.
“Miss, please step aside. May I see your ID?”
“Of course,” Pia said, not bothering to conceal her frustration. At least she was confident the ID was going to work.
“One second, miss.” Milloy took the ID with him to a nearby computer station. To Pia’s chagrin, he spent a good three minutes two-finger tapping at the computer and reading the screen. He looked over at Pia, who rolled her eyes and shifted her weight in her frustration at the delay. Finally he walked back to her.
“I’m sorry, miss, your general clearance has been suspended pending medical reinstatement.”
“Well, can you let me in so I can go to HR and try to get my clearance restored?
“Can’t do that.”
“What do you suggest?”
Milloy pointed. “I suggest you go into security and see what they can do.”
“I was just in there getting my ID updated.”
“You’ll have to go back.”
“Look, Mr. Milloy, this is outrageous. I’m an employee here, I had an accident.”
“So I see. But I have no authority to let you in.”
“Call Zachary Berman, he’ll tell you.”
“Zachary Berman, the CEO of Nano.” Milloy laughed. “And what would I say to him? Sorry, lady, I can’t help you.”
“He knows me,” said Pia indignantly. But she knew she wasn’t going to win this argument. She had one last attempt in her.
“Okay, call Whitney Jones, his assistant.”
“I know who she is. I happen to know she’s away on business with the boss man. Why don’t you give her a call in a couple of days, and I’m sure she can help you. Now I have to go.”
Pia could tell Milloy was enjoying himself at her expense. Normally, Pia would have stood there and argued with Milloy, but she found she didn’t have the strength. As she walked back to her car, Pia’s anger increased. She got in and drove fast out of the Nano lot. When she came to the state road, she made an impulsive decision. Instead of turning right back to town, she turned left and headed directly to Zach Berman’s house. Perhaps he was away, as Milloy had said, but maybe he wasn’t. Even if he wasn’t there, Pia needed to blow off some steam. At the moment her anger and frustration were directed at the CEO. He was, ultimately, responsible.
The gate. Pia had forgotten about the gate at the bottom of Berman’s drive until she was almost upon it. She pulled directly up to it and leaned on her horn. The raucous sound startled the birds in the immediate environs, and Pia saw them flee up into the higher branches of the surrounding evergreens.
After several blasts, Pia eased up and the din ceased. Her ears were ringing. Then she noticed the buzzer and pressed it repeatedly. A minute passed, then another, with no response. She then got out of the car and faced what she thought was the remote camera, defiantly putting her free hand on her hip.
“Hey, Mr. Berman, I can’t get into my lab. It’s not fair. I helped you fix those microbivores. I should not be treated like this. If you’re not there, maybe you’ll see this tape. We have unfinished business. You know it, and I know it.”
Then Pia felt foolish, shouting at a stone gatepost with what she thought was a camera mounted on top. She looked up one more time, flipped a finger, and then got back in her car to drive home.
39.
PAUL CALDWELL’S APARTMENT, BOULDER, COLORADO
FRIDAY, JULY 19, 2013, 9:52 P.M.
Pia sat on Paul’s couch, drinking her third glass of wine of the evening. Nothing about Pia’s story of her difficulties getting into Nano had changed since Wednesday, but she had recounted it again over dinner, and it appeared to Paul as if she were about to do so again.
“Okay, Pia, I don’t wish to be rude, but I know what happened. Nano has revoked your access to your lab until you have a medical release, and you’re pissed. Understandably. I get it, they’re ungrateful bastards with all the work and help that you have given them. But I don’t see what you can do about it other than hire a lawyer to get you that meeting with human resources.”
“I don’t need a lawyer!” said Pia, for the tenth time.
“An employment lawyer. I’m not talking about a personal-injury lawyer or anything like that. Nano hasn’t terminated you, but you can’t get into work, even though they are still paying you. Funny, a lot of people would love such a situation.”
“It’s not the money,” Pia complained.
“I know. Come on! Calm down! I’m talking about an employment lawyer who will get this resolved, and if he can’t get you into the lab, then he will get you a settlement. Then you can move on with your life. You can’t go on like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this, Pia, going over and over the same things like you’re picking at a scab. Not every mystery gets resolved. Go to the newspapers with your story. See what they can do. Perhaps the Chinese runner and this more recent Chinese cyclist will remain a mystery. Right now, only you and I even know it’s a mystery, and I must admit, I’ve lost most of my interest in it.”
“If I go to the newspapers, even if they pick up on it, I’m sure Nano has contingency plans. It’s not going anywhere unless I find out what they’re doing and can be specific with the press.”
“But your hands are tied. If you can’t even get into the place, there’s no way you can figure out what they are doing. It’s as simple as that. Frankly, right now, I don’t even want to think about it anymore.”
“So I’m on my own. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Of course not. I didn’t say that. I will help you get a good lawyer. I know lawyers. In fact I know the scariest lawyer in Boulder who happens to be involved in labor law. He’d be perfect. As soon as he calls, they’ll roll over and give you whatever you want.”
“I want access to my lab.”
“A lawyer is not going to be able to get you access if Nano doesn’t want you to have access. Be reasonable. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Will a lawyer be able to make them tell me why they tried to kill us?”
Paul let out a sigh. “No, Pia, that’s not going to happen. Nor do we know for sure that they had anything whatsoever to do with the accident. I just have this imprecise recollection of a vehicle behind us just before we went off the road. But I’m not sure about that. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to reopen that can of worms. Because there are no worms!”
“I’ll never accept the idea that I just ran off the road. It’s absurd.”
“You are entitled to your idea, but I’m telling you that you can’t keep on with this monomania. It’s like Moby-Dick.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Do you still want to come down to Denver with me? We both could use a diversion. Come on, Pi
a, what do you say?”
“I’m good,” said Pia. “I’m not in the mood.”
“You sure?”
Pia nodded. She wasn’t in the mood for socializing and small talk at all. And she’d had enough wine for the night.
“Hey, Paul,” she said. She sounded brighter. “Do you still have that camera you borrowed from your friend? The one we fooled around with that time?”
“Yeah, it’s still here. Why?”
“Can I borrow it?”
Paul hesitated. He tried to look Pia in the eye, but she quickly looked away. “Why do you want to borrow it?”
“I don’t have a real camera, and I feel like going hiking tomorrow while you’re in the ER. I think my ribs can take it. I want to take some pictures of the wildflowers that are blooming in the foothills.”
“Pia . . . ?”
“C’mon, Paul, don’t be so suspicious. I’d use my phone’s camera, but I have in mind to make large blowups for all those bare walls in my apartment you’re always complaining about. So I need the high definition.”
“Exactly what’s brewing in that mind of yours?”
“Nothing,” Pia said casually. “I just feel like being creative, seeing as I have all this free time. What do you say? Or do I have to go out and buy one?”
“Okay. I’ll get it,” Paul said. She could be so damn willful.
“And can I have that cord that connects it to the Mac, too?” Pia called after him. “You’re an angel.”
“I know,” said Paul. “And probably a fool,” he said under his breath.
40.
ZACHARY BERMAN’S HOUSE, BOULDER, COLORADO
SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2013, 9:15 P.M.