Chapter 11 - Stromberg

Walker Stromberg had been at RATT the night before with his lacrosse buddies. He was 6’ 2”, a solid 200 lbs with wavy blond hair down to his shoulders and a chiseled jaw. He was a ladies man. The fairer sex gravitated towards him like cash to a casino. The top ‘attackman’ on the U of A lacrosse team, Walker also came from money. Old money. His great great grandfather had made his mark during the days of the Klondike gold rush and then in oil when Alberta was first realized as the ‘Texas’ of Canada.

He had it all, except the fellowship with Dr. Johns. Karson Delly had scooped him on it. It wasn’t the future job prospects that the fellowship guaranteed that had pissed him off. His future was already set through the family’s network of companies. No. It was the family’s pride and honour that had been trampled on in Walker’s eyes. And his father had let him know it.

Walker was sure the fellowship had been in the bag. How could he not be? He was a Stromberg. But then Johns had gone and named Karson. That was something he couldn’t let go without a consequence, without some sort of payback. Beating Karson to a pulp would have been just too easy, and too unsatisfying. That aggression had been taken out on the lacrosse pitch, to the horror of the other teams. Three players had already been made guests of their local hospital this season.

Walker’s opportunity came soon after the start of the new semester and it came with a phone call. A man, identifying himself only as Mr. Williams, had made a proposal of utter simplicity with accompanying rewards and what Walker was truly looking for. The destruction of Karson Delly’s future. Mr. Williams had told Walker that he was with a watch group that tracked research associated with natural resources at each university in North America. They had no fellowship to offer, but they have a perk – bonus arrangement to offer.

The deal was sealed when $10,000 suddenly appeared in Walker’s account the same day. All he had to do was keep an eye on Karson’s research progress and submit updates once a month, or earlier if necessary. Since Walker worked in the same building anyway, and since his father had reduced his standard of living as a punishment for not getting the Fellowship, it had been an easy sell.

Walker had had a few beers last night as well, but he was not suffering, as he knew Karson was now. Seeing Karson hold the bottle of iced tea to his forehead in the 7-11, Walker had wanted to smash it over his head. He had considered turning around and just heading home, figuring Karson wouldn’t be very productive today, but he had some work he could do himself, so continued along.


Karson put the half empty iced tea bottle on his work counter and sat back in his chair. Today was going to be a struggle. The head pills were slowly separating the hangover from his head, but the tiredness would be there all day he knew. Separation. That was the key. Like how a pill worked. Separating the sickness from the human body. Like penicillin, one of the great discoveries in history. A botanical wonder. What if?

Letting his mind wander on that last thought, Karson found himself staring over at Dr. Johns’ desk. Something was holding his attention. The desk was a typical steel work desk that belonged in a laboratory. It was perfectly organized in keeping with Johns’ character – a neat freak of the extreme kind. A layered file organizer was on the front left corner, a picture of his wife on the right corner with a potted orchid accompanying the picture. The orchid. Dr. Johns had brought it in the day before. It had been an anniversary gift from his wife. That was what was holding his attention.