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when it ends. They want to see concrete results. And that’s what I am going to give them today.”
    “What concrete results?”
    “A victory,” Doniger said. “These dipshits are going to need a victory. Some exciting news about one of the projects.”
    Kramer sucked in her breath. Gordon said, “Bob, the projects are all long-term.”
    “One of them must be nearing completion. Say, the Dordogne?”
    “It’s not. I don’t advise this approach.”
    “And I need a victory,” Doniger said. “Professor Johnston has been out there in France with his Yalies for three years on our nickel. We ought to have something to show for it.”
    “Not yet, Bob. Anyway, we don’t have all the land.”
    “We have enough of the land.”
    “Bob . . .”
    “Diane will go. She can pressure them nicely.”
    “Professor Johnston won’t like it.”
    “I’m sure Diane can handle Johnston.”
    One of the assistants opened the door to the conference room and looked into the hall. Doniger said, “In a goddamn minute!” But he immediately began walking toward the door.
    He looked back at them over his shoulder and said, “Just do it!” And then he went into the room and closed the door.
    :
    Gordon walked with Kramer down the corridor. Her high heels clicked on the floor. Gordon glanced down and saw that beneath the very correct and corporate black Jil Sander suit, she was wearing black slingback heels. It was the classic Kramer look: seductive and unattainable at the same time.
    Gordon said, “Did you know about this before?”
    She nodded. “But not for long. He told me an hour ago.”
    Gordon said nothing. He suppressed his irritation. Gordon had been with Doniger for twelve years now, since Advanced Magnetics days. At ITC, he had run a major industrial research operation on two continents, employing dozens of physicists, chemists, computer scientists. He’d had to teach himself about superconducting metals, fractal compression, quantum qubits, and high-flow ion exchange. He’d been up to his neck in theoretical physicists — the very worst kind — and yet milestones were reached; development was on schedule; cost overruns were manageable. But despite his success, Doniger still never really confided in him.

TIMELINE
    Kramer, on the other hand, had always enjoyed a special relationship with Doniger. She had begun as an attorney in an outside law firm, doing work for the company. Doniger thought she was smart and classy, so he hired her. She was his girlfriend for the next year, and even though that was long over, he still listened to her. She’d been able to head off several potential disasters over the years.
    “For ten years,” Gordon said, “we’ve kept this technology quiet. When you think about it, it’s a miracle. Traub was the first incident to get away from us. Fortunately, it ended up in the hands of some doofus cop, and it won’t go any further. But if Doniger starts pushing in France, people might start to put things together. We’ve already got that reporter in Paris chasing us. Bob could blow this wide open.”
    “I know he’s considered all that. That’s the second big problem.”
    “Going public?”
    “Yes. Having it all come out.”
    “He’s not worried?”
    “Yes, he’s worried. But he seems to have a plan to deal with it.”
    “I hope so,” Gordon said. “Because we can’t always count on having a doofus cop sifting through our dirty laundry.”
    Officer James Wauneka came into McKinley Hospital the next morning, looking for Beverly Tsosie. He thought he would check the autopsy results on the old guy who had died. But they told him that Beverly had gone up to the third-floor Imaging Unit. So he went up there.
    He found her in a small beige room adjacent to the white scanner. She was talking to Calvin Chee, the MRI technician. He was sitting at the computer console, flicking black-and-white images up, one after another. The images showed five round circles in a row. As Chee ran