“Rotate the trees, install barriers.” He gives me a wise old smile. “You’ll learn about all the options. By the time we’re done, you’ll be an expert like I am.”
“I hope you’re right.” A lump is in my throat at the thought of our beautiful orchard dying or having to be destroyed. “I love those old trees.”
“I know exactly how you feel.” With a little pat, he walks to his desk.
I follow quickly. “I’m ready to start learning everything right this minute.”
He lets out a gravelly chuckle. “Then you can replace me. I’m getting too old to stand in front of a classroom all day. It’s time for new blood, and you seem just the type to inspire future generations of scholars.”
“It’s a lovely thought.” Turning, I look up at the risers full of empty chairs and picture college students, bright young minds ready to solve all the world’s problems. “But I have to get back and save my family’s orchard first.”
Pulling out his chair, he gives me a nod. “I’m sorry your family is facing this threat. I won’t sugarcoat it. Armillaria is a tough adversary.”
“I keep thinking of that fungus inThe Last of Us.” His brow furrows, and I realize he hasn’t seen the show. “Sorry, it’s about humans being overtaken bycordyceps militaris.”
“Ah.” His chin lifts. “Another formidable adversary. Cordyceps has been documented to actually change the behavior of its host. Terrifying. And yet, in Chinese medicine it’s used to reduce fatigue and even increase sex drive in older adults.”
“The Himalayan Viagra,” I add.
“You’ve done your research.”
“I went down the rabbit hole after watching the television show. I had to know if it was possible for it to make the leap to humans.”
“As a scientist, you should know we hold the door open for anything to be possible.”
“Just hopefully not that.” I give him a cringe-smile.
“What are you two talking about?” Haddy enters the room again. “That face can’t mean anything good.”
Haddy came with me and made the introductions before stepping out to revisit her old stomping grounds in the aerobiology wing. It’s all related, only her studies were on airborne childhood diseases. Mine are on creeping, underground root rot.
“Cordyceps,” I answer.
“Oh, yuck.” She shivers. “I can’t stand fungi, and don’t even try to make me watch that show.”
“Now I’m intrigued.” Dr. Smithfield chuckles, looking from her to me. “You’ll have to tell me how to find it.”
“I will.” I hold out my hand for a shake. “And I’ll see you on Monday, ready to get started.”
“I’ll put your curriculum and required readings in the portal. Do consider my offer to teach a few classes. In my experience, young people always perk up at the sight of a pretty new instructor. It’s still a male-dominated field, you know.”
“We’re working hard to change that,” Haddy says, putting her hand through my elbow. “Sorry I have to steal her away, but I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Bring your daughter with you next time. I love meeting the next generation of scientists.”
“Will do,” she calls, and I follow her out into the hall.
“You’re right, he’s lovely. If you hadn’t shown up, I was going to ask him to marry me.”
“That feels like an extreme reaction.” Haddy teases.
I glance at the pictures on my phone, that knot still twisting in my chest. “He’s so encouraging. He’s the first person I’ve met who’s given me hope since this ordeal began.”
“You have cordyceps in the orchard?” She frowns at me over the hood of Gavin’s Rover.
“Armillaris.” I hate even saying the word.
Her blue eyes widen. “Oh, shit, Dove, that’s serious. How far has it spread?”
