Dawn splashed up from the horizon like a French Impressionist painting; hues of rose, lavender, turquoise, and hyacinth twirling together in an exciting summer frolic. The sun beamed down on the moist earth with the promise of a glorious day. Birds chirped their approval of the proceedings as crystalline water from Lake Mendota lapped lazily against the shore. Green growth was everywhere.

Robert McIntyres thoughts were miles away as his feet systematically pounded the path, setting up a one-two cadence. His athletic body pushed air in and out of his lungs in a rhythmic symbiosis with his limbs. He left his body on automatic pilot as his mind synthesized the beginning of a new day. He jogged three miles every morning, even in winter, and it was routine and exhilarating for him.

The lake path runs from Memorial Union at the University of Wisconsin in Madison to Picnic Point, known as a trysting place for young lovers in fast cars. The University sprawls all around the area, from Park Street, where the path begins, cob webbing in all directions, covering much of the inner city area with its majestic buildings named after long dead academics and entrepreneurs.

Lake Mendota laps against the shores of the University, granting many an office a spectacular, ever-changing panorama, mixed with the scent of algae in the late summer months. The University is secure in its reputation as a stunning place, and it is the first impression of many a visitor and delighted new hire. McIntyre held a full professor position in the Department of Bioethics, with an adjunct position in Philosophy. Philosophy happily paid a small percentage of his salary to be able to count him among their ranks.

Although his main love was research as a Biologist, he also held a PhD in Philosophy with a specialty in Ethics, making him an unusual scholar and highly marketable. As a graduate student, he had had the misfortune of witnessing abuses in the scientific field, and he had resolved to use his formidable intelligence and degrees for the good of mankind.

His research took off when questions began to arise in the media as Neo-cons tried to reshape the abortion argument. He was a popular lecturer, and his steady stream of articles help bolster the scientific point of view. This rare combination of talents made him much sought after by students seeking wisdom and rationale in their young worlds.

He had been at the University for ten happy years, long enough to climb the ranks of tenure from Assistant to Associate Professor in the first six years, with a full professorship following. McIntyre had flown through the process, ranking high in teaching evaluations and producing more than the necessary number of publications. It only took three years after that to gain promotion to full Professor, after a counter offer from another university threatened to snatch him from the halls of Wisconsin. The two departments sent desperate memos to sympathetic Deans, and enough money was scraped together to make a retention offer which McIntyre relished. He had made it, and he was doing something he loved.

Tall at six feet, with chestnut brown hair and chocolate brown eyes to match, McIntyre was dashing, but still retained the distracted look of the scholar intent upon his own research. He normally dressed in fashionable pants, with either casual sweaters or the latest in Lands End pullovers; creating the academic look which made female students swoon and feminine colleagues take a second look as he passed, unaware of the sensation he was causing.

McIntyres wife, Janey, was a high school English teacher at one of the Madison high schools. Janey was blonde, five foot four, with pert shoulder length hair and a no-nonsense attitude. Their two daughters, Rhonda and Kirsten, were eight and ten years of age. They loved soccer, going to movies, and skiing. The family spent each Christmas at a ski resort, happily perfecting their downhill technique, although lately the girls had discovered ski-boarding.

McIntyre was considering whether or not he would like to run for Chair of the Bioethics Department. Many of his faculty cohorts urged him to run, as he had an agreeable personality plus the backbone to make tough decisions. The position of Chair carried a considerable amount of power, particularly in regard to salaries and grants, and the history of the department was rife with examples of poor stewardship in the position. The disadvantage of taking on the position at this point in his career was that it would rob McIntyre of the energy and time he needed to pursue his own academic interests.

These and many other thoughts swirled through McIntyres brain while the physiological effects of the jogging coursed through his body. He mentally organized his schedule for the day. There would be meetings with the University about his start-up company Bio-Xen. The name of the company was his own private jokeBio for Biology and Xen for xenophobia, or the fear of something new.

The companys finances were at a critical juncture, and he needed to make a presentation to a group of prospective stockholders. The University had very strict protocols for research procedures, and McIntyre wanted to present himself in the very best light. The future of his company depended upon it.

Absorbed in his thoughts, McIntyre didnt notice that another set of feet had joined him on his run. The sun rose higher in the sky now, and perspiration was starting to bead on his forehead. His heart rate was up, and he could feel some strain in his thighs and calves. His knees had begun giving him more problems of late, and he wondered if he could keep up his accustomed exercise routine.

He became aware that the footsteps behind him seemed to match his own pace. Funny, hed hardly ever run into fellow joggers at this time of the morning. He increased his speed a little out of a primitive urge to avoid confrontation. He felt uneasy.