Charisma by Jeanne Ryan

counterfeit currency, undetectable fakes stand to make a fortune.

Unlike the other staff who’ve traded their work clothes for jeans and knit shirts today, Dr. Sternfield wears a simple linen dress with a lab coat. Yet, for the first time I can recall, her reddish-brown hair hangs loose to her shoulders beneath the hairband. She leans toward me. “Hello, Aislyn. How hungry are you?”
    â€œUm, not very.”
    â€œCare for a visit with our long-armed friends?”
    As if I’d ever say no to playing with the chimps. “Sure.”
    She leads us down a quiet corridor away from the cafeteria. “What a relief to get away from paperwork for a day.”
    I know I should make nice before getting to business, but I can’t stop myself from saying, “So is Sammy a, um, viable candidate?”
    She winks. “Well, I can’t provide any details just yet, but the guidelines do provide a fair amount of room for discretion.”
    â€œThanks so much for whatever you do. It would mean everything to us.”
    I expect to head outside to the geodesic cages, where the chimps normally play, but Dr. Sternfield waits at an unmarked elevator that requires a key. We go down two floors where the AC is on full blast, and then through a winding passageway to an area I haven’t visited before. When we reach a heavy door, she raises her eye to a retinal scanner and punches in a code. No other lab I’ve seen here requires this much security.
    The room inside glows with full spectrum lighting, but I still get a claustrophobic shudder. This room is even colder than the hallway, and smells like rubbing alcohol.
    We stroll past cages to one with a sign that reads RUBY . She’s my favorite chimp, and Steffie, her caretaker, used to let me feed her when she was a baby. Even though Ruby should be used to humans, she still hides if the voices around her get too loud. I can relate.
    We stop at her cage. Ruby scuttles our way, and puts out a knobby hand as if she wants us to shake it. That’s a first. Dr. Sternfield laughs and pats her long fingers. I’d swear Ruby smiles before she does a little twirl.
    Dr. Sternfield leans toward me and even though no one else is nearby, she whispers, “Charisma.”
    â€œShe totally has that. But how did you train her?”
    She scratches Ruby’s head. “Train? I don’t think you understand. I gave her the therapy I told you about, for sociability. Charisma, or CZ88, if you prefer the official name.”
    Blood rushes to my head so fast I wobble. “What? You already have a treatment? I thought you were only doing a study.”
    Her eyes gleam. “Well, I need to be careful with how much I say to whom. But I’ve got a strong vibe about your trustworthiness, Aislyn. Anyway, I’ve been working on this since med school. The chimps are my second mammal test. The first group included the most charming rats you’d ever hope to meet.”
    A pounding picks up in my chest. “Wow. Wow.” I let Ruby take my hand through the bars. “She’s so friendly. How many chimps have you tested it on?”
    â€œFive. It’s like a primate party in here sometimes.”
    â€œI’ll bet Steffie loves that.”
    Dr. Sternfield’s eyes flash for a moment before she smiles. “Yeah, she’s been enjoying herself.”
    I watch Ruby, who appears to be dancing. “She seems really happy. Can you measure that?”
    Dr. Sternfield purses her lips. “That’s subjective to assess in humans, much less animals. But we can measure stress. And Ruby’s levels of norepinephrine, cortisol, and adrenaline have decreased significantly.”
    It wouldn’t take a blood test to prove my stress hormones were off the charts at the party, despite the beer. What’s my normal happiness level? When I chat with Jack online, my levels float upward for sure. But now? Low, abysmally low.
    Dr. Sternfield