"What is truth? It is the lack of deceit, an open door that prevents us from concealing what we see and what we know. It is personal. A window into how each individual understands the world around them."
The presentation began with a flare for the dramatic, as it often did with Mack. Shareholders sat silently around the board table, discerning eyes absorbing the slides projected on the screen before them. The room was grand as far as office buildings go, with a live edge table and ergonomic chairs, and a wall-sized window overlooking a harbor that spewed light across the tastefully greyscale walls. The room was packed with suits, tailored Italian jackets surrounding the table, and sale rack sport coats sitting in folding chairs along the perimeter of the room. Every important person had brought their entourage of note takers and assistants.
Amid the professional circus, two people in lab coats stood out. One was the centerpiece of the room, the man standing in front of the screen delivering his manifesto. Mackenzie Hannigan II. He dominated the room with his booming voice and broad shoulders. Beneath his lab coat, he wore a fitted black shirt and tie, a tastefully exposed Armani logo screaming out that he was more than another lab nerd. He smiled as he spoke, meeting the eyes of each of the men in the room as they nodded, recalling the preview he had no doubt given them at yesterday's round of golf.
Good old Mack. It was as if they had built him in a douche factory. I internally chuckled at the thought, imagined little workers on ropes hand chiseling that jawline, painting on that trimmed beard that always came with lines so crisp I wondered if he employed a live-in barber. I pictured a foreman looking a the shoulders and calling out "broader! More muscular! And get him a tighter shirt!"
The other lab coat was me. I sat in a folding chair at the back of the room, laptop perched awkwardly on my knees, taking notes on each shareholder's reactions as this designer douchebag delivered the speech that I had written.
Mack continued. "Now I know you gentlemen didn't come here for a philosophy lesson. But this is important. Because until we really understand what it is we're after in theory, the drug will never work in practice. Lies come in three types. We all know about lies of deceit, purposefully spinning a story that is untrue with the intention of spreading wrong information. But the real harmful lies are rarely this type. Lies of omission, saying nothing false without really answering a question. Lies of delusion, sharing information that is inaccurate because one is hiding from the truth deep within their mind. These are the avenues of concealment. These are the lies we need to bring out into the light.
Lies of deceit was the easy part - limiting the brain's access to storytelling functions. But these past few months, my team has worked tirelessly to address these more insidious lies. And I'm pleased to announce --I've done it."
He paused there for effect, allowing the weight of the announcement settle over the room.
"This next round of clinical trials has proven the success of our drug in eliminating all three types of lies. Subjects are now compelled to answer a direct question, eliminating the risk of omission. When faced with complex truths, the drug forces the brain to reconcile one's knowledge and surface the most logical, most true answer. We'll dive into methodologies in a moment but first, I think a round of applause is warranted. Because we've done it. We've finally developed a fully functional truth serum."
Applause broke out over the room. I gave a few half-assed claps, then buried my face in my laptop, reading emails to distract myself from the sting of being relegated to the secretaries' corner.
______________
When the presentation finally ended, the room began to clear. Handshakes were exchanged, happy hour plans were shared, and a parade of suits drifted by me, paying no more attention to me than if I were a doorstop. At last, the room was clear and only Mack and I remained.
"Interesting choice of words there. Your team's work. You've done it." I said, my tone friendly but my eyes accusing. Mack was my peer, the director of the lab team working on lies of delusion, while mine focused on omission.
He smiled--on the surface, friendly and disarming, but with an undercurrent of warning. "You know how it goes Alex. They want a go-to guy. A face of the operation. Of course your team worked hard on this. But what matters isn't the credit, its the stock price."
"For somebody who doesn't think credit matters, you sure give a lot to yourself."
"it's not my fault the guys upstairs see my value. If you're upset I got to present, then take it up with them."
"Over golf at your daddy's estate, like you do? I could tell them you know. About how your trials kept failing, how you kept burning though your budget. I could tell them all about how I had to save your ass. How you promised to back me for VP."
He held my gaze for a moment. The very air between us seemed electrified, a wall of pure energy just waiting to spark. Then he took a step toward me, then another, slinking like a tiger unconcerned with danger. "You're so damn smart Alex. We both know that." Instinctually, I took a step back, finding myself against the wall of the room. "But if you come for me, you'll lose." He closed the gap, caging me in with an arm placed firmly on the wall beside my head.
An onlooker might have just seen two colleagues sharing a private debrief of a top secret conference call, but the way his powerful frame dwarfed mine sent a shiver down my spine. I could see the way his forearms bulged like a passive threat, I could smell the fresh pressed luxury of his shirt. I wondered for a moment if I'd ever be able to escape if he decided to pin me here and make good on that threat. My breath caught.
He smiled and relaxed, leaning into his arm in a casual posture. "I don't need to do anything to you." He laughed. "You'll make your own bed. If you tell them, they'll come right to me. And I'll always be able to smooth things over. Check mate, Alex."
He stalked out of the room, lab coat billowing dramatically behind him. I released my breath. He was right of course. They'd never believe me. But, as I gathered my things and walked out of the arena like a vanquished gladiator, a thought occurred to me. No, they'd never believe me. But they'd believe him.
And I strode through the hallways energized, because I knew what I had to do. Something inside me was excited at this, at being challenged.
______
No matter how terrible the day, few things can't be healed by coming home to the smell of freshly cooked pasta. I walked in the door and let the smell embrace me, almost forgetting my pure anger at the day. Jenna stood at the kitchen island, pouring a glass of smooth red wine. Her face lit up as I entered, and she hurried to pour a second.
I watched her for a moment, letting the sight of her seep into my soul and soothe my sore emotions. She was my rock, she was the woman who held me when I cried and who asked who to kill when I was angry. She had been by my side when I came out to my parents, and had wiped my tears at the altar. She was my everything.
"Long day?" Jenna sidled up next to me, absently twirling strands of my hair in her fingers. She could always tell when something wasn't right.
"Just fucking Mack again."
Nothing else needed to be said. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing herself up against me in a tight embrace. "He'll get bored of this eventually. He has to. Eventually he'll move on, go spend his trust fund on an island in Greece. It won't be like this forever." She held me there, her warmth and her softness spreading through my soul and lulling me into a state of calm.
I felt my shoulders drop, the knot of anger in my chest begin to unwind. My hands moved on their own, wrapping around her slender waist and pulling her closer. I lingered there, just enjoying the feeling. To hold a girl in my arms still felt as magical as the first time I'd tried it all those years ago. She was soft, and gentle and so deeply precious to me. I loved her.
But I could only dwell on that feeling for so long before biology began nagging at the corners of my brain. That familiar hunger was stirring within me. I bowed my head and let my lips find hers, their plump softness melting into me. I felt her breathe deeply and pull me closer, egging me on to kiss her more forcefully.
