Drug of Choice

Clark followed the guard down a corridor. They stopped at a nearby room. An old woman was there, surrounded by electronic equipment.

“He’s to see Dr. Washington,” the guard explained.

“All right,” said the woman. She nodded to a camera. “Look over there.”

Clark looked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her press a button; the camera clicked.

“State your name loudly and clearly for our voice recorders.”

“Doctor Roger Clark.”

“No, no,” the woman said. “That will never do. Just your name.”

“Roger Clark,” he said.

“Thank you,” the woman said. She produced a form. “Sign here, please. Waiver of liability.”

“Waiver?”

“It’s routine. Do you want to see Dr. Washington, or not?”

Clark signed. It was all so peculiar, he did not want to argue.

“Thank you,” the woman said, and looked down at her desk.

Clark went on, following the guard, to an elevator. As they walked down the corridor, Clark glanced at the doors, with their neatly stenciled markings:

ALPHA WAVE SYNCH LAB

MASSACT RES UNIT

K PUPPIES

HYPNOESIS 17

WHITE ENVIRON

Clark said, “What kind of work is done here?”

“All kinds,” the guard said.

They got into the elevator and went to the second floor. The guard led him down another corridor to a door marked ENERGICS SUBGROUP. He opened it, and waved Clark inside.

A secretary sat typing a letter, wearing earphones attached to a dictaphone machine. She turned off the machine and removed the earphones. “Dr. Clark? Dr. Washington is expecting you.” She pressed the intercom. “You may go right in.”

Clark passed through a second door, into the sloppiest office he had ever seen. The walls were lined with shelves, which contained pamphlets, notebooks, and stacks of loose paper; books and journals sat in unruly heaps on the floor and on the desk. From behind the debris on the desk, a thin, pale figure rose.

“I am George Kelvin Washington. Do sit down.”

Clark looked for a place to sit. There was a chair, but it was heaped high with manuscripts and journals.

“Just push that junk off,” Dr. Washington said. “It’s not important anyway. Make yourself comfortable.”

Dr. Washington sank back down behind the stacks on the desk. A moment later, he cleared a little tunnel, which allowed him to see Clark, sitting in the chair.

“You’ve come about the job,” Washington said.

“Yes, I—”

“Good, good. You seem a bright young man. I’m not surprised that your interest in Advance, Inc. has been aroused.”

“Yes, it—”

“There is no question that you would find our work challenging. We operate at the very forefront of several areas of investigation. The very forefront.”

“I see,” Clark said, not seeing.

“If I understand correctly,” Washington said, staring down at his desk, “you are a, ah, where is it, oh yes — you are a pharmacologist.”

“That’s correct,” Clark said. He wondered how Washington knew. He wondered what Washington was looking at, on the desk.

“Your job application,” Washington said, “is all in order. Quite complete. I needn’t tell you that we are most interested in your experience in clinical drug testing at the National Institutes. You did that instead of military service?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Excellent. And you’ve had some experience with human drug testing?”

“Limited.”

“Ummm. How limited?”

“Well, we did several tests on experimental drugs for cancer—”

“Yes, yes, all that’s down here,” Washington said, tapping the sheet. “Cancer drugs numbered JJ-4225, and AL-19. Controlled double blind clinical trials involving forty and sixty-nine subjects, respectively. Is that it?”

“Yes,” Clark said, frowning. He had filled out no application. He had certainly never written down—

“Well, that’s fine,” Washington said. “Just fine. Undoubtedly you’re curious about the work you will be doing, if you choose to join the team here.”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“You’ll understand if I can’t be too specific,” Dr. Washington said, scratching the tip of his nose. “We are not a secret organization, but we do need to be careful.”

“You do a lot of government work?”

“Heavens, no! We don’t do any at all. We used to do government work, but that stage is past. Entirely past.” Dr. Washington sighed. “Your work will concern the interaction of organ systems with chemical compounds which affect multiple bodily systems. In most cases, one of the systems will be nervous, but this will not be invariably so.”

“This work is drug-testing, then?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well,” Washington said, “take my own work. I’m a bio-physicist, myself. I’ve been working on stereochemical interactions of allosteric enzymes. Very challenging.”

“I’m sure. What sort of—”

“Enzymes? Those affecting tryptophan metabolism. Effects upon thyroid, brain, and kidney…precisely the kind of multiple system situation I was describing.”

Clark said, “Can you tell me a little more about the company itself?”