Chapter 77: Making History

“How can that be?” Tamara asked after she had recovered her voice. “There’s never been more than one Prize to anyone in the same year. And only a handful of people have been honored more than once.”

Peter nodded, “And now Emma’s one of those people too. She told me that only um, John Bardeen, I think, got two in Physics, and now she’s right there with him. She told me that three others got two Nobels. Let’s see, Marie Curie had one in Physics and then Chemistry, but about ten years apart. There was a dude who got two in Chemistry. His awards came twenty years apart. I think one was for the structure of insulin, the other, I don’t know. Maybe something to do with DNA. Someone else got a science Nobel and the Peace Nobel—Urey? Maybe.

“But you, sweetheart ... three different categories in the same year! The press is calling you the new Einstein. There was a stupid suggestion that the Swedish Nobel Academy had orchestrated this as a publicity stunt and that caused a real commotion as virtually all the world’s scientists came together to defend them. The selection process is secret, I heard, and different committees choose the laureates in the various prize categories. The medicine one is even from a different institute than the physics one. But the academy members in each institute can only vote to choose the winner from the final selection of nominees and then it’s a majority vote of that academy. Something like that would be awfully difficult to orchestrate. So the idea that it was some kind of a setup ended almost before it began.”

Tamara was still in shock, but she asked, “What work were the prizes for? I’ve done so much in the past several years. Was my work so significant that it was considered to be ... what is it ... the most important invention or discovery of the year, I think Emma said the Nobels were for.”

“I spoke to her about that,” Peter answered. “At the very beginning, the Nobels were for work done during the prior year but it isn’t done that way now; that rule changed maybe a hundred years ago. The work is considered complete when it’s become accepted by most of the world’s scientists as being a major contribution to the discipline. Let me get the article that has the wording of the Prize citations, okay?”

Tamara nodded numbly.

Peter returned in a minute. “Here’s the article. First was the Physiology or Medicine award announced last Monday.”

The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine is awarded to Tamara N. Alexandre “for the development of an ultra-high resolution MRI device leading to the discovery of the fine neurological structures in the brain and the pathways which connect them, allowing for better understanding of the brain’s functional areas.”

“They announced the Physics award on Tuesday.”

The Nobel Prize in Physics is awarded to Tamara N. Alexandre and Emma E. Clarke “for demonstrating electron flow against an electrostatic charge gradient allowing the concentration of electrons to develop at an exceptionally high density in a superconducting molecular lattice, which permits the lossless and efficient storage and recovery of energy.”

“And on Wednesday the Chemistry award was announced.”

The Nobel Prize in Chemistry is awarded to Tamara N. Alexandre “for developing a new chemical analytic technique based on an application of the Born-Oppenheimer approximation and the Franck-Condon principle to induce molecular electronic transitions using the characteristics of the delocalized electrons from the pi bonds in aromatic molecules, without producing changes in the positions of the molecular nuclei, thus allowing for either the separation or synthesis of very closely related molecules.”

“Those are definitely all ground-breaking achievements, Tamara,” Peter told her. “They’re all your ideas and you followed through with convincing demonstrations of the applications of your new science.” He chuckled. “The press is raking Hopkins over the coals, demanding to know why they’re making you stay as a grad student. Some media figures are demanding that you be awarded PhDs in both physics and chemistry, but nobody can quite agree about the third—whether it should be in anatomy, physiology, neuroscience, radiology, or neurology. One wag even suggested that they give you all those degrees.”

“You know what my opinion is about graduating too soon,” Tamara said. “This can’t be real; gotta be a dream.”

“It’s very real, darling. Did you turn on your phone yet?” Peter asked.

“Huh. No, been using a burner. Oh, I had to surrender one to the state trooper ‘cause it had the recording of the kidnapper’s threats to me. He essentially confessed what he had done.”

“So you nabbed him too, then?” Peter asked. “Cool.”

Winnie gushed, “That was frickin’ awesome, how she did that. Miss Spiderwoman here shot her web and zap! Down he went!”

“Ah, so your new net gun works,” Peter smiled.

Tamara nodded. “I decided to use that secret weapon rather than the G-force bolos ‘cause I expected that he’d come too close for the bolos to be effective.”

“Okay. But I’d prefer that no more live field-test sessions against felons will be planned,” he said, looking at her seriously. “Go check your phone.”

Tamara went into her bedroom to get it and turned it on as she returned. Peter and Winnie were talking.

“ ... and she bought me a ton of new clothes there and...” Winnie stopped with an embarrassed look.

“Hey, girl, you needed that stuff,” Tamara told her as she unlocked the phone.

It lit up with a constant stream of incoming messages and voice mail notifications.

“Jeez. 172 texts ... and ... still counting... 241 emails. Voice mails ... let me go there. Damn, at the limit of 20.”

“Go back to Monday, honey,” Peter suggested.

“Ah. Here, an international call at 5:47 a.m. in the call history ... one at 6:13, same number. Let me check the voice mail ... there’s one at 6:14. Let me play it.”

“I am calling from the Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, Sweden, looking for Tamara N. Alexandre. If this is the correct number, it is essential that she contact us by telephone at her earliest convenience. Our international telephone number is...” the voice said, speaking with a strong accent but in a very formal style.

Tamara looked at Peter. “It’s real?” and she began to cry. “I just can’t believe this,” she whispered as Peter embraced her. “I didn’t think that what I did was so revolutionary. I just extended what the science could already do.”

“Which is exactly what all the other laureates before you did,” Peter chuckled. “Didn’t Newton say something about how his discoveries were made; that he saw further because he was standing on the shoulders of giants?”

“That’s true, he’s quoted that way,” Tamara said.

“You need to call Emma,” Peter suggested. “I’ll bet that she’s champing on the bit to speak to you about this. You told her not to try calling you until tomorrow on pain of something severe, she wouldn’t tell me what that was when she called me Tuesday mid-morning, a few hours after she got her Nobel call. She asked me if I had heard anything from you; of course I hadn’t.”

“Yeah, I should. Jeez, I feel so disoriented. Like part of me is detached and watching the scene play out. This must be a little like what dissociation is like.”

“A little. Now go make that call.”

Emma answered on the first ring, having seen her phone’s caller ID.

“Tamara!” she fairly shouted. “So you’ve heard the news?”

“Yeah, Emma, congrats on your selection,” Tamara said. “A double laureate too.”

“Look who’s talking, Miss Breaker of All Precedent. What happened last week is totally unheard of, innit. A scientist winning in three areas of research? As well, all of that work being done within the span of just a few years. You’re simply crackin’ brilliant, gal.”

“I’m still trying to assimilate the news, Emma. You got the phone call. What happens now?”

“So it’s going to be a circus now, won’t it. A three-ring circus for sure...”

She emphasized the three and they both laughed.

“The media will be relentless. The blighters were out mobbing the Physics Building here all week and have been right nuisances out at the APL too. They tracked down your parents; I spoke to them on Thursday and there’ve been telly crews parked out at their place all week.”

“Shit. I gotta call them too, after this call. Jeez, all I really wanted is a quiet life.”

“Not after this news, I’m afraid. I’ve thought a bit about what you can do. It appears that the media hasn’t figured out where you live...”

“Um, I used my folks’ address for my driver’s license.”

“Ah. So that’s why some crews went there,” Emma said. “Now listen. I talked to Stuart. When he was at the British embassy, they used a really good local security firm and he’s made some calls about getting security for you. I have a number you can call, yet this evening, and they can set you up with a security detail starting tomorrow. Stuart is insistent that you set up some security because when they find you, you’ll get mobbed...”

“Damn...” Tamara muttered.

“ ... and that brings up the other half of the publicity part of this circus. Hopkins has set up an interview slash press conference with a media audience and a TV feed for Tuesday at 2 p.m. in Shriver Hall for me, so far, and we hope that you’ll join me. As far as I know, your schedule’s open; I even checked with your solicitors at your new company.”

“I’ll definitely take the security detail; cost isn’t an issue. What will they do?”

“I expect they’ll provide a vehicle and a personal protection agent who’ll likely be the driver. He or she will bring you to where you need to go and get you in and out safely. You’ll be on the media radar for at least two weeks until everyone gets their fill of news about you. There are always a few people who want more details ... do a life story ... that sort of rot. And unless you do something that attracts additional attention to you, the frenzy will be over. The Nobel ceremony is on December 10 in Stockholm. You’ll need to contact them right away and let them know that you’re back now, you were in the mountains with no phone service. They’ll have a packet sent to you by express delivery, mine is coming to my office at the university. Oh, right. After the Tuesday press conference, there’s a congratulatory gathering at the JH Club with our physics faculty and a dinner later; the dinner’s tentative because it’s for you and your university collaborators. Is it two hundred now?”

Tamara giggled. “Not quite. In the low sixties. About thirty-eight, if you only count those who submitted the articles I collaborated on.”

“Tamara, I’m gobsmacked at how you find the time to do everything you’ve accomplished. Are you sure you haven’t found a way to clone yourself and that there aren’t actually eight Tamaras running around doing all this work?”

They both laughed and Tamara responded, “Now there’s a really great idea...”

“Stop, stop. I’m sorry I mentioned that,” Emma chuckled. “I shudder to think what havoc in science a team of Tamaras could cause.”

“I’m okay with the Tuesday events,” Tamara confirmed. “Shriver’s a big hall and shouting questions wouldn’t work, right? Would the questions be in writing?”

“They’re trying something brand new, Tamara. Questions can be written and given to the moderator in advance—it’s to be the provost, by the way—or texted to a number that will be set up. The written questions will be read first. The texted ones will appear on the moderator’s computer screen and he’ll flag the ones that he thinks are best. Those questions will appear on a big projection screen where everyone can see them.”

“Nice. That’s a great idea. Emma, this week’s gonna be really complicated. It was looking to be complicated before the awards came but now it’ll be a real mess. Last week I got into a situation saving a teen from a sex-trafficking operation and there’re lots of legal issues to work out. I was gonna try to get to see Sam tomorrow...”

“Wait, Tamara. That’s a hot button issue for Sam. She’ll talk to you about it this evening if you have time; no need to try to get in to see her. Do you have any details?”

“Yeah, I have a summary I wrote up and Peter sent it to Mason to start off the political part.”

“Give me a half hour. Do you have Sam’s email?”

“Personal. Not business.”

“Personal will work. Send it in a half hour. Now call your folks and that security firm. And my most sincere congrats on your new fame, my dear.”

“Thanks, I think. Bye, Emma; thanks for the great advice.”

Tamara called the security company’s number and a real company person actually answered.

“I was expecting a service or robot,” Tamara said when the person introduced herself. “I’m Tamara Alexandre.”

“We were told to expect your call, Miss Alexandre. You’re probably getting tired of hearing this, but congratulations on your Nobel Prizes. That was an amazing achievement. Achievements, plural. I assume, that since you called, you wanted to engage our services? Basic personal protection?”

“I do. I was told that the media would be hounding me and some are very aggressive.”

“That’s true. Our organization has branches around the country and we are quite familiar with those aggressive tactics. Our LA branch specializes in protection of actors and media personalities. Our branch here handles political figures who tend to need a greater security level and I believe your case is closer to the latter. Your achievement was so unusual and unique that you might be the object of unwanted attention, in addition to fending off multiple interview requests.”

“I can see that,” Tamara sighed, resignedly.

“If you agree to have us provide our service, I’ll have an agent at your home tomorrow at 8 a.m. The agent will have our contract to sign, go over our fees, and can answer questions. Then they can escort you for the day. If the agent proves compatible, they can stay with you, or else we can try another agent.”

“I agree and that’s satisfactory,” Tamara replied.

Her next call was to her parents. Nadine answered the phone and Tamara heard her call to Wilson, “Honey? It’s Tamara. Come quick.”

“Hi, Mom, sorry for not calling as soon as I got back but it’s been freaky wild here.”

“I’m sure that it has. It was wonderful news and you’re so deserving of the honor, darling. I’m so incredibly proud.”

“As am I, Tamara,” Wilson said. “The folks at the APL went crazy when they heard about the first prize; your MRI work was mostly done at the APL. Then the Physics one came and the place simply went bonkers. And Wednesday morning, the entire building at Emma’s lab was hopping and virtually the entire APL staff stopped by to join the happy crew there.”

“Jeez, you’d think that they got the prize themselves...” Tamara mused.

“Reflected glory, darling,” Nadine told her. “Your accomplishments reflected their own contributions.”

“Emma told me that Stuart was insistent that I get a security service,” Tamara said.

“Yes, we all spoke to each other about that,” Wilson told her. “Stuart knows a good firm. Did you call to arrange it?”

“Absolutely. They’re sending someone over tomorrow morning. Also Emma says that you have some uninvited squatters there.”

“We do,” Nadine said; her annoyed tone was evident to Tamara. “One and sometimes two cars or vans are parked opposite to our drive. They’re watching to see who’s coming and going. We’re also getting a dozen phone calls a day from unknown numbers and we let those go to voice mail. Most leave no message but some ask for a callback but leave no details—just, ‘it’s urgent that you speak to us.’ Messages like that.”

“Can you call the county police and complain? That’s actually stalking. Hey, Scott knows some county cops who’re resort members,” Tamara suggested.

“Excellent idea, honey,” Wilson told her. “If they’re there tomorrow, I’ll call him.”