“Sir,” Les said. He hated the nasal quality of his voice, especially when speaking to the lead scientist.

“Damnit, Man, I’m busy,” Bellowed Dr. Emon. It was usual for him to dismiss Les out of hand, and, since he couldn’t remember (after 12 years of work) Les’ true name, he constantly gave him nicknames.

“But sir -.”

“It will keep,” Emon responded, his back still to Les. “Send a note with your findings tonight.”

“I really think that this might be of importance, sir.”

Emon stopped. This was more words than the scientist had ever said to him. It was also unusual for him to persist after a second dismissal. Either he’d gotten stronger nerves, or something was actually wrong. The scientist in him had to find out. “What is it?” He demanded, facing the other.

This was so unusual an occurrence that Les slightly recoiled. Yes, it is this important, he told himself.

“Well, it’s the drug to treat hair loss, sir. The lab rats are exhibiting some rather bizarre side effects.”

“How bizarre?” Emon demanded.