Kristen buried her face in her hands, eyes closed, and tried to push the end of her career from her thoughts. Up until now, everything had been going her way. Top of her class at Yale, master's degree from Johns Hopkins, doctorate from UNC, then a choice position in the pharmaceutical research division of a major corporation. Kristen had been assigned to lead the development of EC-401, an experimental drug for erectile dysfunction. All the early research had been so promising! This was the drug that was going to dominate the market, and cement her reputation as a leader in the industry. Right up until the first human trials.
Kristen raised her head, casting a dismal look at the information displayed on her screen. Of the initial ten volunteers, four had experienced no effects from the trial. They were the lucky ones. Three others had suffered heart attacks, two of them fatal, and two of the remainder had to be hospitalized for priapism and dangerously high blood pressure. And then there was patient #6.
At first, everything had looked great. The dose of EC-401 had worked as intended, without any significant side effects at first. Within eight hours, however, patient #6 had begun displaying some odd behavioral changes - dramatically increased libido, then sexually aggressive behavior towards the nurses. After 24 hours of observation, he'd become practically incommunicative and agitated, prowling around his room like a caged animal. Most astonishing of all, however, was the effect on his genitalia. The intake exam hadn't noted anything unusual in that area, but patient #6 had since displayed an incredible growth spurt - his once average-sized penis had grown to well over a foot in length when erect, with similar growth apparent in his testicles.
"This is a gold mine!" Steven, one of Kristen's assistants had exclaimed. "A drug that causes actual penis growth?"
"With the side effects of turning the patient into a sex-crazed animal?" Kristen had retorted hotly, gesturing to a monitor displaying the camera feed from patient #6's room. On the screen, the man stalked back and forth across the room, his hospital gown bulging outwards below the waist in what might be comical fashion, if it hadn't portended professional ruin for Kristen. "Not to mention that fully half of our subjects have experienced life-threatening complications?"
This is going to be a PR disaster,
Kristen thought bitterly.
When word of this gets out, the press is going to have a field day, and I know damn well who the company's scapegoat will be.
A growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in awhile; in fact, the sun had set and most of her co-workers had left for the day. Kristen sighed, pushing back from her desk and standing up. "Sarah, I'm going to run out and grab some dinner," she told the last hold-out. "Keep an eye on things while I'm out, okay? I won't be long, once I get back you can head out."
"You're not pulling another all-nighter, I hope?" Sarah asked, a concerned frown flitting across her face. "You need to get some sleep -"
"What I need is to figure out what the hell went wrong here," Kristen replied, more curtly than she had intended, "and to try to salvage this project."
And save my job,
she added silently.
Kristen walked slowly down the hall to the elevator, lost in thought. She'd devoted her life to her work. There'd been no time for friends, relationships, hobbies - her job was her life, and now that was in danger. "What am I going to do?" she whispered, staring at her reflection in the polished steel of the elevator doors.
Kristen's reverie continued as she walked through the building's lobby, acknowledging the few people she knew with a half-hearted wave. The convenience store across the street was her go-to for late night meals, and she grabbed her usual - turkey sandwich, chips, apple, a Snickers, and a Coke - without thinking. On her way to the counter, though, she paused, seeing a small display of wines.
What the hell,
she thought,
if ever there was a night to drink at work, this has got to be it. What's the worst the company could do, fire me?
Kristen grabbed a bottle of white wine, paid for her things, and returned to her building.
"Evening, Ms. Smith," the guard at the front desk greeted her. "Another late night in the lab, huh?" She nodded in reply as she strode by. The guard turned to watch her, though Kristen was far too distracted to notice she was being ogled.
I bet she'd be pretty cute if she just took care of herself,