Chapter 22 by: Owen

It had been eight in the morning when I encountered Tom. I was barely able to scan all the various documents of research pertaining to Project Miracle in time for the meeting at ten. Tom and I decided that we would have one hour long meeting every other day in order to go over all the various aspects of research that I'd neglected over the past month. Hopefully within a few short weeks I would be up to speed, and ready to resume contributions to the progress of the company and our various projects. Project Miracle may have been my baby, but that didn't mean I was able to neglect all the other operations G.M. Oversaw.

The entire debacle with missing files and cover-ups appeared to exist solely in my paranoid sub-conscience, it seemed. Looking over the file, Project Miracle was only in the first stages of creating an artificial womb, and synthetic eggs appeared only to be a pipe dream. Perhaps there was a way we could achieve the desired effect without having to figure out how to create such a thing. I would have to bring it up at the meeting, for there didn't seem to be any alternative plans.

I shuddered at the chilling memory of the lab reports I'd read in my dream. The whole thing was starting to feel more removed the longer I'd been awake, but I clung to as much of it as I could the whole time I was reading through research. I had to consciously separate what occurred in my dream, and what actually occurred in reality. It didn't help that almost all the information from the past few months was basically new to me.

The alarm I'd set on my phone for nine-fifty nearly startled me right out of my immaculate stilettos. I hurriedly gathered my notes, and rushed to the elevator. There was no way I was going to be late to this meeting, and there was also no way I was going to look rushed. Miraculously, I was the only one on the elevator, and used the few seconds of privacy to straighten my hair and make sure I didn't have anything in my teeth. Striding into the room like I owned the place, well I more or less did, I took my usual seat at the head of the table. About half the people that were supposed to be there were already seated, looking somewhat anxious, or perhaps annoyed. I couldn't blame them for either feeling-- I'd been a crappy boss. As soon as the rest of the staff filled their places at the table, I began my hastily prepared speech.

“I know that I have been horribly absent over the past few months. I let personal issues interfere with my performance at this company and with this research team, and for that I apologize. It was horribly selfish of me to do something like that, and now I won't waste any more of your valuable time talking about myself!” I smiled at the group of people assembled before me. “I trust that Tom or another of you will slap some sense into me if it happens again.”

Thankfully the tension in the room was broken by that final statement, and some of the researchers that I was more familiar with actually chuckled, Tom included. The rest of the hour was all about cramming my head full of details that I'd missed when going over the reports. It seemed like every day, the development team was getting closer and closer to perfecting a functional artificial womb. However, they were unsure about the “installation process” as one of the newer researchers that I'd yet to formally meet called it.

I recalled vague things I'd learned in my dream, and offered a few of them as suggestions. Apparently my sub-conscience was spot on, as I saw several light-bulbs flash above people's heads. I decided to let the matter of synthetic eggs wait for another meeting, I didn't want to tackle too many problems all at once. That would lead to overworking myself and my team. As I left the meeting, I felt a sense of accomplishment I hadn't felt in quite some time. I had the feeling of a job well done, and felt like I actually deserved my lunch with Cassie. As CEO, I could take as long a lunch as I desired, and I felt that I would certainly need that privilege today.

After stopping at my office long enough to drop off my notes and pick up my purse, I made my way to my Audi. I'd let Cassie pick our lunch destination, and she'd chosen a Mediterranean place that she was in love with. I only hoped that I didn't reek of garlic and lamb when I returned to the office.

Lunchtime traffic was awful, and again I was struck by the stark differences between reality and the bizarre dream I'd had after my fall down the stairs. It was almost as if I'd gotten used to the world of magical bathrooms and closets and cities without traffic jams. There were also similarities. Even in the coldest part of the year, the sky was a beautiful picture of azure and white.

Cassie was, of course, waiting for me by the time I reached the restaurant. It was a truly lovely place, but not so nice that I felt under dressed. Not that I ever wore anything that would allow me to feel under dressed. As I approached the table, Cassie sprung from her chair, squealed and gave me a rib crushing hug.

“Stella, darling, you can't just drop off the face of the Earth like that for months! I was nearly beside myself with worry when you wouldn't answer your phone or e-mails,” Cassie sat down and gave me a stern look. “I was very close to marching myself up to that ghastly monastery you just bought. And where were you staying before that? You should've roomed with me for a while! It would have been like a big slumber party!”

Cassie went on like that for several minutes, only pausing to oder for the both of us. I trusted she knew the menu as well as my tastes. It wasn't until the food arrived and she began dissecting the dish placed before her that I got a break from her interrogation. The plate before me contained a large fruit salad the waiter called ambrosia, named after the food of the gods. I figured you couldn't go wrong with a dish named like that, and I wasn't disappointed.

After a few minutes of silence and eating, I decided to tell Cassie about the dream. It was troubling how realistic it seemed, and how much of it I remembered. I wasn't really used to remembering my dreams. I told her in particular about Alex, the issues with G.M., and TruPaul. I knew if anyone could give me good advice, it would be Cassie.