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forward and picked some off the table for themselves. They frowned as they leafed through the pages and listened to her ongoing explanation of the information before them.
    “You see, these vectors are soluble and capable, theoretically, of penetrating the skin. They can also be ingested and taken up through the gut. For brief periods of time it’s even remotely possible they could exist long enough in the air we breathe to be inhaled.”
    “That does it!” said Morgan. “Such unfounded fearmongering from someone as reputable as yourself, Dr. Sullivan, is an abomination. I’m sure the members of the press will not engage in such speculative, unsubstantiated sensationalism. Why, it’s the equivalent of crying ‘Fire!’ in a crowded theater—”
    “Read this evidence, Mr. Morgan, before you accuse
me
of crying ‘Fire!,’ ” she retorted, and flung a fistful of her handouts at him, her green eyes flashing. He stood speechless as she quickly returned her attention to the press. “The fourth matter I want to stress,” she continued, “is that although I’m stating
theoretical
risks—dangers which research suggests
might
be present in current practices involving genetically modified organisms—the authors of all the articles which I’ve given you stipulate that these theoretical risks demand far more controls and much more use of caution than are currently in use.” As she spoke, she gathered up her belongings and appeared to be making ready to leave, all the while eyeing Morgan as if trying to gauge how many seconds she had before he threw her out.
    I bet she’d actually like that, thought the CEO as he glumly eyed her back. Helplessly he imagined the news images that would flash across the nation if he were so stupid as to order security to evict her and provide the “guests” with a photo-op of his guards manhandling the woman. Better to wait her out, he decided, seeing that she appeared about to leave anyway, but he seethed with frustration at not being able to shut her up.
    Pulling on her coat, Sullivan turned her back to him and stated, “These scientists are issuing an appeal for further research into the questions which their work raises, to promote a logical and rational discussion of the problem, and I wholeheartedly support their call.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, then added, “To anyone with half a brain I think it’s self-evident that such a process is the very antithesis of yelling ‘Fire!’ ”
    “The hell it is!” Morgan said, his rage once again getting the better of his resolve not to do battle with her in front of the media. “I know the kind of so-called scientist who writes these diatribes. They’d cripple progress by fears that are only speculation, not proved. People like you and them would have us in the Stone Age—”
    “Can it, Morgan!” cut in one of the ladies with a microphone.
    He gasped, horrified that the carefully planned briefing had slipped so badly out of his control.
    “Dr. Sullivan,” the woman continued. “I’m from
Environment Watch
on public radio. Though what you say is alarming, a lot of these papers seem to focus on gene transfers among microbes in everything from yeast buds to plants and the occasional lab rat. Just as Mr. Morgan said, you haven’t offered us a single shred of direct evidence that any of this stuff is harmful to humans. So my question to you is, based on existing data, why the flap?”
    “The lack of data is the flap. Until we get it, I don’t like the idea of unknowingly eating a plateful of vectors that might slither up alongside my DNA and modify me.”
    “Yuck!” said the man opposite her with a shudder, screwing up his face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
    A few others reacted with forced chuckles as they squirmed in their seats and looked uneasy.
    “But if naked DNA vectors are such a danger to people,” persisted the woman from
Environment Watch
, “why isn’t there research going on using human