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subset branches and, if the good doctor will just make up his mind, we’ll have it.”
    An animated build-slide illustrated the linear flow of numerous parent and child lines, along with their associated branches, spreading left to right from Severson’s initial timeline.
    Vandermark nodded to Song Lee and, in a practiced handoff, she continued the story without a hitch.
    “About 1 in 88 children in the United States has autism, or a related disorder. Among boys, the rate of autism spectrum disorder is 1 in 54.”
    As the petite Korean talked, the images dissolved into a variety of animated bar charts and line charts. Her voice grew more confident as she warmed to her topic. “Around the world, the rates are growing at 14% per year, and as yet, there is no consistent medical way to identify the disease except by behavioral observation. We discovered that Dr. Severson had isolated potential glitches in a DNA region, namely chromosome 16, and in particular, a range of bands at positions 16q12 through 21.”
    Complex chromosomal ideograms with their characteristic multi-colored banding patterns appeared on some of the screens. Other images grew the bands to a larger size and identified the actual cytogenetic locations of the range of genes Hahn was talking about.
    “We’ve copied his work into our own labs and are now ahead of him. He’s definitely on to something. We think that if we can understand the gene encoding mutations in the…”
    “Please, Dr. Hahn,” Vandermark interrupted with a smile, “there’s no ‘if’ here. And let’s not get bogged down. The takeaway for this group is that we got it. And we will understand it very soon, one way or another. We always do.”
    Beside him, Hahn wore a pleasant porcelain face for the audience but inside, a familiar furnace glowed red hot.
    “And it was such a fluke we tracked this guy anyway.” Vandermark grinned at the faces around him. “Honestly. Our own Joey Severson, I mean the version of Dr. Severson that we have in our own line, is a Canuck corner druggist – and not a very good one either, from what I hear. Really!”
    Only a few scattered laughs responded to his joke. Neville sniffed to cover his misstep and made a small, hurried hand signal in the air. All the screens immediately reverted to the Reivers company logo.
    “Okay, that’s our last update, for now. I just want you to know that my team appreciates your efforts to help us.” His look went first to those around the table and then to the employees in the galleries. “We couldn’t do the important work we do without you.”
    Wearing his well rehearsed warm and serious look, he waited a beat and then nodded at the large African standing quietly beside him. “Anything to add, Dr. Nsamba?”
    Taylor carefully shook his head. “Not at this time, except, of course, to add my gratitude to yours.”
    “Then, unless there are questions?” Neville paused briefly, checked the room for hands, and then caught Newbauer’s eye. “Thank you for the time, Jonathan. Echo, no further slides.”
    There was polite applause as the presenters sat. All the screens went to black, leaving only three small white dots and a blinking square in the lower right corners.
    Newbauer nodded to Quyron and she rose to walk toward the open end of the table. A sudden low buzz of confused comments spread around the room. Obviously, this speaker was unexpected.
    Newbauer raised his hands defensively, “I know this is not on the agenda and I apologize in advance for whatever inconvenience this causes. However, I have been…instructed to give some time to Quyron Shur, one of our archive specialists. She will update us on the recent,” he consulted some scribbled notes, “flux event and those other transmission troubles we keep having.” He looked at Quyron, puzzled. “Is that right?”
    “Close enough, Mr. Newbauer. Thank you.”
    She stood relaxed, facing sets of guarded eyes. “And I regret the disruption from your