him. She never followed up and no service was held. Longtime
colleagues of Ian’s like Anjali Laghari, a chemist who had worked
closely with him for eight years at Theranos and for two years before
that at another biotech company, were left guessing about what had
happened. Most thought he had died of cancer.
Tony Nugent became upset that nothing was done to honor his late
colleague’s memory. He and Ian hadn’t been close. In fact, they had
fought like cats and dogs at times during the Edison’s development.
But he was bothered by the lack of empathy being shown toward
someone who had contributed nearly a decade of his life to the
company. It was as if working at Theranos was gradually stripping
them all of their humanity. Determined to show he was still a human
being with compassion for his fellow man, Tony downloaded a list of
Ian’s patents from the patent office’s online database and cut and
pasted them into an email. He embedded a photo of Ian above the list
and sent the email around to the two dozen colleagues he could think
of who had worked with him, making a point to copy Elizabeth. It
wasn’t much, but it would at least give people something to remember
him by, Tony thought.