At the end of Part 2, the opening night of the conference had just ended. We pick up the next day with the main speakers. More secrets of illegal stem clinics are revealed…
At the main conference the next day, I searched through tired-looking pastries on the side table, keeping a close eye on the other attendees. Virtually everyone seemed to be an academic. Paul Knoepfler was like an adorable teddy bear, huggable and self-effacing, all but blushing when I asked for a picture and an autograph.
There was the bouncy-ball-man again. He was leaning forward and talking loudly to a woman whose name tag proclaimed she was Alison Sorkin, a UC-Davis professor of bioscience. I tried to read his name tag, but he was turned away from me. He certainly did sound enthusiastic. A tall man leaned partly against a pillar, listening with a faint smile on his face, the corners of his eyes gently creased. I guessed his age at around sixty-five; he had the healthy, fit look of a man who had spent his life doing rigorous physical work. But his eyes were very sad. A woman stood listening to them all, a few feet away, her dark hair cut in a pixie shape around her soft face. Her hands nervously plucked at each other, and she seemed to be taking a series of short deep breaths, as if building a sentence that never quite got all the way to her lips. I wondered who all of them were. The identity of the woman mystified me just as much as the bouncy-ball man. I would be willing to bet that she wasn’t an academic either.
We all took our seats (and very uncomfortable ones they were, too,) and the presentations began.