Dr. Lain Brousseau
“Congratulations, Dr. Brousseau, on a job well done,” my boss, General Erik Meyers, said. He beamed out at the crowd, his eyes scanning over my head as he pinned a medal onto the lapel of my blazer. His smile remained frozen as he waited for the crowd to respond.
The small group surrounding me applauded, and I blinked hard as cameras began flashing in my face. It was both very over and underwhelming, and I smiled out at the crowd. There was nowhere to go from here but up. If only I had family or friends to share my accomplishment with, I probably would have felt completely happy. But happiness was something I had given up on a long time ago.
Kara whooped, driving the thought right out of my mind. Who needed family when you had an amazingly talented research partner? I was truly lucky to work beside someone like Kara. She never even hinted that she might feel any jealousy over the attention my discovery was receiving. In fact, she’d urged me to finish my report as quickly as possible and submit it to General Meyers so we could follow up on the strange anomaly right away. She was just as caught up in the excitement as I was, and seemed genuinely thrilled that I might move from my demeaning position and delve into more serious work.
I wouldn’t have to worry about getting promoted, either. Kara would take over my role; she was more than capable. Not only that, but she was just as interested as I was in what the Kartugians could be doing out in space, and how it could possibly be that they had disappeared into thin air. It was hard to focus on all the formality with such a deep question probing my brain. All I wanted to do was get back to work. I’m sure Kara felt the same way.
“We look forward to the many new discoveries you will make as part of the team,” General Meyers said down to me, once the applause died down. “In fact, I’m honored to inform you that you, little lady, have earned a promotion. Dr. Ellis will show you around the lab.”
Clapping once more filled the room and I caught Kara’s eye in the crowd. She looked thrilled, and mouthed, “The lab!” to me. I don’t think either one of us thought a woman would ever set foot in there without a chauffeur. It was a groundbreaking day in so many ways. “Little lady” comment notwithstanding.
“Thank you, sir,” I stammered, blinking hard as I tried meeting his eyes. The camera flashes were making it hard to find them though, and I looked away the first chance I got. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself in front of one of the most powerful men in the country.
“My pleasure. Now if everybody will please make their way to the reception hall, where food and drinks will be served, we can get this celebration underway.”
Cheers were deafening this time, and I had the distinct impression that the rest of my colleagues, mostly men my age or much, much older than I, were far more excited for the alcohol than they were about my discovery. I couldn’t fight the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach, either. Many of the men were glaring at me. Were they jealous?
I tried to ignore it as I was led to the reception hall, which was blissfully quiet for a few moments as everybody filed in and helped themselves to the free champagne. Soon though, I was bombarded by questions from curious colleagues, avoided by envious ones, and generally overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.
As the men surrounding me talked at me and to each other, I found myself wondering how a group of brainiacs could be so loud and overbearing. At social events I tended to retreat into a quiet corner, hoping I could escape the scrutiny of men who had deemed me “too smart” for them, and the good-intentioned friends who wanted to set me up with those very men. There never seemed to be a place for me among those I had the most in common with. It was pretty bewildering.
“A toast!” Kara suddenly exclaimed, silencing the chattering men surrounding me and drawing their attention to her face. I sighed in relief, quietly removing myself from the center of the group. “To one of the most talented up-and-coming researchers on extraterrestrial life!”
Everybody cheered and drank their champagne, patting me on the back as they dispersed to mingle. I was no longer the center of attention. I was allowed to retreat back into my own inner world.
But my inner world was consumed by one nagging thought. What had happened to the ship after it headed into the meteor field? I knew it hadn’t exploded or crashed – I’d been watching it carefully the whole time. It had simply vanished. There was something strange about the way it seemingly disappeared into thin air. What had happened? What was I missing?
“Lain, nice to see you again.”
A man was suddenly standing in front of me. My chest tightened. It was Brighton. The man who’d broken my heart in grad school.
“It’s been great,” he had told me after I won an argument about the Markagian galaxy with him in front of a group he had been hoping to impress, “But I think I need to be with someone a little more fun.”
What he meant was, he wanted to spend all of his time with a girl who made him feel smarter than she was. And I’d seen the signs. The red flags were there all along. The ego. The pretention. The teasing and condescension. But I looked past it because I wanted so badly for him to be the right guy. Maybe there was no right guy for me. That was okay. I had my career. That was enough. I’d given up on the idea of love a long time ago. Love just wasn’t for eggheads like me. Telescopes, on the other hand…
“Hello, Brighton,” I said coolly. I had nothing to say to him. In fact, I’d spent years rehearsing what I would do if I saw him again, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control not to go off on him. That wouldn’t look great in front of General Meyers.
“So…big promotion, huh?” he said as if he actually wanted to have a conversation with me. I looked hard into his eyes. He wanted something. It was obvious.
“Guess so,” I replied begrudgingly.
“You’re like, captain of the UFO chasers now,” he said, a wide grin creasing his face. “I’m almost jealous.”
Ah. So that’s what it was. He wanted to make a joke at my expense to make himself feel better for not being chosen to participate in the Orion Project. I should have guessed.
“Actually,” I said, flaunting my position for the first time since I’d received it a few moments beforehand, “I’m head of research of all of Sub-9. Let me know if you ever need help finding the big dipper.”
His jaw dropped, and I smiled sweetly up at him.
“Excuse me,” I said, pushing past him, not waiting to hear another tired defense of his chauvinistic sense of humor. “I’ve got to use the ‘little UFO chaser’s’ room.”
And with that, I left my own party to stargaze on the roof alone.