Dead Secret

faculty curators who were conducting experiments whom she expected to have trouble with, and she was not disappointed.
    “I have to check on my experiment every four hours,” said the botany curator.
    “Turn in your schedule to security and they will escort you to your lab. But you will have to do it yourself; you can’t send a student.”
    “What? What’s really going on?” asked the botany curator. Diane could see it was not going to be easy leaving them in the dark.
    “This would be a perfect time to work on the velociraptors,” interrupted the paleontology curator, before Diane could answer. “We’ve been wanting to close down the dinosaur exhibit so we can work.”
    “This might seem like a good time, but it is not. Now, everyone enjoy your long weekend.”
    “Wait a minute,” said Botany. “I can’t come every four hours throughout the night.”
    “Why?”
    “Well, I just can’t. I’ll be asleep.”
    “Who does it for you at night?”
    “My graduate student. That’s what they’re for.” There was a ripple of laughter throughout the room.
    “We have a critical and difficult system failing, and I have worked out the protocol for repairing it. I’ve tried to accommodate ongoing experiments. However, it will have to be you who takes care of your experiment. I don’t want a student doing it. You don’t have to understand my reasoning, just my instructions,” Diane said.
    The botanist looked at her, stunned. “I suppose I can set a clock.”
    “Good, before you leave today, I want to see your schedule at the front information desk in the lobby. If it’s not there, you won’t be allowed in.”
    “This is ridiculous. I’ve never been treated this way in my life.”
    “I’m sorry, really. But I need cooperation. When I don’t get it, I have to enforce it. This is just one weekend. If we get repairs done earlier than expected, I’ll call you and you can arrange for your student to do the work.”
    “Very well, since I have no choice.”
    This was a different botanist than the one she started with. When she had made the arrangements with the university, the departments were unwilling to send faculty to what they considered basically an unpaid position, and ended up sending the newest-hired or their retired faculty. When it was discovered what kind of lab space she was offering, some departments pulled rank and gave the part-time job to tenured professors. This was one of them. If she was lucky, he’d change his mind about the appointment and she’d get back her original curator. Diane stepped down, even though she was flooded with questions from the curators.
    When people left today, the museum would be virtually empty, and a search would be conducted for any devices that might be waiting to burn the museum. The possibility of those devices anywhere on the premises chilled her and made her face hot with anger.
    “Look, if it’s the air-conditioning, I’ve worked in heat before,” said the paleontologist. “I’ve excavated in the desert, for heaven’s sake.”
    “It’s something more she’s not telling us,” said Botany.
    “Now, gentlemen,” said Jonas Briggs. “Let’s not start treating this like the university. If Diane says she has an environmental problem that needs fixing, then let’s take her word and not cause problems.”
    “It’s just that I don’t understand why I have to be escorted to my own research lab.”
    “Is it going to alter the outcome of your research if you are escorted to the lab to attend to it?” asked Diane.
    “No, of course not.”
    “Then I don’t see your problem. This is the way it’s going to be.” She paused a moment. “What do you need to do for the experiments? If it’s simply recording observations or readings, I can do it. If we’re lucky, your graduate student can take it up on Sunday.”
    “Yes, that will work. Yes. I’ll go write out the instructions and leave them at the information desk.”
    Diane left them calling after her and started for her crime lab office to call Garnett. For several days something had been nagging at the back of her mind, something she had forgotten. She rubbed her eyes. It’ll come to the surface eventually, she thought. She started up the stairs.
    “Diane.” It was Jonas Briggs. “I think it’s obvious to everyone that something is going on. I won’t ask you what, but do you need help?”
    “Thank you, Jonas. But I have help coming.”
    “You look tired, and if I may say, that