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mechanisms or processes took place in focused autistics during the process? Further, what active
physiological pathways depended on microproteins for completion or operation? Those were some of
the questions most likely to be emphasized by the bean counters of his peer review process, starting with
Craddock, and there were no answers. They'd undoubtedly want him to spend another two or three
years researching those aspects of microproteins, and any others that turned up before proceeding to
animal testing, but he didn't give a damn. Let someone else do the grunt work of finding out how the little
molecules worked. Results were what he wanted and the present results were more exciting than
anything he'd seen in years. It was a brand new paradigm, something no one else had explored. He'd
delved through journals suggested by a search algorithm, and nothing like it had turned up. He was in
completely new territory, a rare event for a lone researcher these days.
By the end of the week, the microprotein effects had mostly worn off. The chimps were given the
weekend and Monday to rest from their grueling ordeal before the second run. Grueling was a strange
term when applied to normal chimps, whose tasks during an experiment were more like play, but it was
apt for the run just finished. The animals needed rest.
There were to be three runs altogether, and although he was anxious to start the second one immediately
he decided instead to work with Norman preparing integrated data and spread sheets for review. He
wanted to see the results to date spread our in front of him. By Monday afternoon the task was finished,
and the printouts were nothing short of fantastic. Norman wanted to know when to start the next run.
Little Big Rock--the old animal handler's name was always pronounced in full just as it was listed on the
payroll--rarely exhibited any kind of high emotion. He was clearly energized, but remained careful as
usual. The run would start only when he thought the chimps were rested enough.
Norman's reaction was typically optimistic. ⬠SGreat, Mr. Blake. I'll have the microproteins ready and
make sure Little Big Rock is available to give the injections. The chimps trust him so we won't have to
completely anesthetize or traumatize them. Just the same tranquilizer we used last time in their morning
meal, and we'll be ready to roll by ten o'clock."
"That's good, Norm. You're invaluable here and everyone knows it. I'll do my best to get you that raise
we talked about. No, maybe it's better to let Ernie work on it this time. She knows how to navigate the
system better than I do, but there's no doubt in my mind El Jefe will be all sunshine and roses once he
sees these printouts. These will represent the first real progress we'll have reported on this project."
"Thanks, Mr. Blake. See you tomorrow, bright 'n early." Norman left whistling. At the same time, Ernie
came through the door at the other end of the lab.
"Mr. Blake, I just got a call from Dr. Craddock's office. He wants to see you at nine o'clock tomorrow
morning."
"Ah, crap! Any idea what it's about?"
"Not a clue."
"Ernie, he does this every time. I planned to surprise him with some excellent results from our tests this
week. No chance of that now. Whatever I take in there will be ignored until he's finished spieling
whatever it is on his mind. Probably wants my opinion on paint color for his den or something. Then he'll
tell me to leave whatever I brought and he'll read it when he has a chance. No time for discussion or
presentation unless he calls for it first. He's so very busy you know."
She just stared, finally flaring her eyes. ⬠SWell, there's nothing you can do about it, so why not just take
your presentation with you anyway? Maybe he'll be curious when you smile a lot."
He sighed. ⬠SAll right, I'll go directly there first thing so don't expect me in till later. Please catch
Norman as soon as he comes in tomorrow and tell him I'll be delayed and not to start without me."
* * * *
'Machine' Dean Craddock was a little man who used all sorts of ruses to make himself appear bigger. He
combed his long, silvery hair up in a pompadour, then used hairspray to keep it in place. That, plus
elevator shoes, added several inches to his stature. In order to give himself a sense of dominance over
visitors, he'd installed a platform for his desk and chair so they'd be elevated above the visitor chairs,
artfully blocking the platform from view by clever placement of his other furnishings--a lowboy credenza,
two bookshelves and a pair of artificial potted palms. The seat of his desk chair was also raised to the
point where his shoes barely touched the floor. Hoping to enhance his cleverness even further, he kept
the vertical blinds behind him drawn, darkening the room except for his desk lamp and whatever light
came from a computer screen.
In spite of it all, he still looked and acted small.
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