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for Charles’s invariable arrival at seven forty-five. By eightCharles liked to be into the day’s work, especially now that things were going so well.
    â€œIf I slammed the door like that, I’d never hear the end of it,” said Ellen, irritated. She was a darkly attractive woman of thirty who wore her hair piled on her head except for vagrant wisps which trailed down alongside her neck. When he’d hired her, Charles got some jealous kidding from his colleagues, but in truth, Charles had not appreciated her exotic beauty until he’d worked with her for several years. Her individual features were not exceptional; it was the whole package that was intriguing. But as far as Charles was concerned, the most important aspects were her intellect, her eagerness, and her superb training at M.I.T.
    â€œI’m sorry if I scared you,” said Charles, hanging up his coat. “There’s a bunch of reporters out there, and you know how I feel about reporters.”
    â€œWe all know how you feel about reporters,” agreed Ellen, going back to work.
    Charles sat down at his desk and began going through his papers. His laboratory was a large rectangular room with a private office connected by a door in the back. Charles had eschewed the office and put a functional metal desk in the lab, converting the office into an animal room. The main animal area was a separate wing off the back of the institute, but Charles wanted some of his experimental animals nearby in order to closely supervise their care. Good experimental results depended heavily on good care of the animals and Charles was particularly attentive to details.
    â€œWhat are all the reporters doing here anyway?” asked Charles. “Did our fearless leader make some scientific breakthrough in his bathtub last night?”
    â€œBe a little more generous,” scolded Ellen. “Someone has to do the administrative work.”
    â€œExcuse me,” said Charles with sarcastic exaggeration.
    â€œActually, it is something serious,” said Ellen. “The episode with Brighton was leaked to the New York Times. ”
    â€œThese new generation doctors certainly like publicity,” saidCharles, shaking his head in disgust. “I thought that after that rave review in Time magazine a month ago he would have been satisfied. What the hell did he do?”
    â€œDon’t tell me you haven’t heard?” said Ellen incredulously.
    â€œEllen, I come here to work. You of all people should know that.”
    â€œTrue. But this Brighton situation . . . Everybody knows about it. It’s been the in-house gossip for at least a week.”
    â€œIf I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to hurt my feelings. If you don’t want to tell me, don’t. In fact, from your tone of voice, I’m beginning to think I’d rather not know.”
    â€œWell, it’s bad,” agreed Ellen. “The head of the animal department reported to the director that Dr. Thomas Brighton had been sneaking into the animal lab and substituting healthy mice for his own cancer-carrying animals.”
    â€œWonderful,” said Charles with sarcasm. “Obviously the idea was to make his drug appear miraculously effective.”
    â€œExactly. Which is all the more interesting because it’s been his drug, Canceran, that has gotten him all the recent publicity.”
    â€œAnd his position here at the institute,” added Charles, as he felt his face redden with contempt. He’d disapproved of all the publicity Dr. Thomas Brighton had garnered, but when he’d voiced his opinion he’d realized people had thought he was jealous.
    â€œI feel sorry for him,” said Ellen. “This will probably have a big effect on his career.”
    â€œAm I hearing right?” asked Charles. “You feel sorry for that little conniving bastard? I hope they throw his cheating ass right out of