by Candice Lim
I flattened against the wall and dipped my hand into my pocket where I pulled out a paper folded in a small square. It unfolded to a washed-out retro hand-drawn illustration of a woman wearing safety googles holding up a conical flask. Across the poster, the bold text read IN REASON WE TRUST.
☣☣☣☣☣☣
My face slipped off my fist. I opened my eyes to the bottle of green liquid wobbling and rocking on the bench and caught it before it tumbled over and cast it on the other side of the bench.
“Nice catch. In reason we trust.”
I looked up at my labmate and half-yawned with my sleepy voice. “Hey, Armani. In reason we trust.”
Armani Ng set his massive container of pipettes down. A small tremor vibrated the bench. “Looking so free. Nothing to do, eh?” He pulled the mask to his neck, revealing his face clean-shaven with a hint of Korean skincare glow. It made me wonder how Armani, a dean list valedictorian nerd could squeeze his ten-steps skincare into his schedule while me, a substandard borderline dropout student sometimes forgot her meals.
“Not really. I was reading some journals…before I dozed off.”
He whipped out his compact mirror to check his hair. “So how’s your project going?”
I narrowed my eyes at the PCR machine behind me. “Good. What about you?”
“Everything is as planned. Completed whole-genome sequencing for a couple of bacteria. All my six articles got accepted by top-ten journals. Been busy preparing for upcoming overseas conferences.”
“Whoa.” I fought to conceal the bitter jealousy bubbling away in me. “I’m proud of you, really.”
Armani snapped his compact mirror closed and arched his brow. “Oh, come on. You’re not that bad yourself. Your project is finishing soon right?”
Why did he have to remind me of my pathetic life? Why couldn’t he let me bask in his glory for a bit? My face must have given it away.
“Uh, it’s not that bad right?”
I tried not to keep score of how many times I had repeated the experiment. I shrugged. “Yeah. Soon.”
“Good. So where are you doing your Masters?”
“M―my what?”
“You know, the next chapter to the path of the Council.” Armani glanced me up and down. “I don’t think you can do a PhD straight away. No offense but your results aren’t that impressive.”
I laughed to conceal my dread. “Of course not.”
“You’re not planning to get married and call it a life, are you?” Armani smirked.
“Oh no.”
He waved casually. “Yeah, you don’t even have a boyfriend. Anyway, not to brag but I got a PhD offer from the Asia Nova National University of Science.” His face lit up with pride.
“Way to go―”
“Run completed.” The mechanical voice of the PCR machine called out, a welcome distraction from this awkward interrogation.
I hopped up, almost knocking over my chair. “I guess this is the end for me, Armani.”
He arched one brow, about to say something when I made a quick escape. Stood in front of the PCR machine with my eyes closed, I offered my soul to the deity of gene amplification.
“You can’t escape the Community. You know, bad results don’t mean that you’re not doing well. That means you need to find a solution. That’s a part of doing science, isn’t it? It’s about seeking solutions and solving problems.” Armani’s voice rang across the glass-walled sterile laboratory.
No one else was there. Everyone else had finished their projects, off somewhere to have fun. Except me. And Armani, who had volunteered to stay back for some side projects. That was how the nerd and the borderline dropout student became friends. Since both Armani and I were the two people who spent the most time in the lab.
“I’ve checked. You can drop out of the program with valid reasons.” I arranged the 0.1 mL tubes neatly on the freezing plate. “All I need is a valid reason.” I winked and breezed to the other bench.
He scrunched his face and arms over his chest. “So what’s your plan?”
“Do I look like someone with a plan?” I placed the tubes into the machine and closed the lid when panic cinched my heart. My finger hovered above the START button when anxiety hit me. Blot my gel, did I take all the tubes out of the PCR machine? Was this the right machine? I read aloud the machine name three times.
Armani rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re using the right machine.”
With a gulp, my thumb pushed START. I jolted slightly when the machine quivered and bleeped. A string of codes appeared to form a blue holographic image. I transferred the data to my tablet.
When I turned around, my stomach lurched when I was met with Armani and a disappointed look on his face. “You’ve come so far, Roxy.”
My shoulders slumped tiredly. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m not the right candidate. I was never meant to be here.” My gaze lingered on his face for a brief moment. Armani was handsome. I’d date him if he wasn’t gay. On second thought, I wouldn’t be able to bear with his nerdy talks. It was illegal for peasants to mate with members of the Community anyway.
“Roxy, watch out!” I turned around and bumped into someone. The next thing I knew pipettes clatter over the floor. A hollow hole burned in my stomach as I scooted down and picked them up. The lab tech’s face as black as black could be and scrunched up like she was constipated or something.
“I am so sorry,” I muttered.
She yanked the pipettes from me. “How dumb students like you can get into this program.”
Armani clapped my shoulder as I stared at her retreating back. “People like her could get a job in science. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
☣☣☣☣☣☣
The sheltered university facility shielded everyone in Connor University from even the slightest glimmer of sunlight. The only thing keeping its inmates from going blind was the strips of white light set into the ceilings and running along the walls.
All I could hear were the echoes of my footsteps against the immaculate marble tiled floor. My body ached from fatigue, hunger and the unforgiving cold inside the facility. I dragged my feet and rested my head against the towering double doors of the laboratory. Closing my eyes, apprehension crept in me.
What if I failed again? What if I was wrong again? What if…
The golden words LABORATORY OF GENETICS propped boldly next to the entrance, glaring with despise.
I braved myself to knock the door. Few minutes passed, no answer. I clicked my tongue and knocked again.
Still no answer. It was not like Hershey to keep a student waiting.
“Dr. Hershey, it’s me, Roxy. Are you there?”
I knocked harder but only got the silence of the hallway. Perhaps Hershey had already gone home? Relieved, I turned around to leave when a swooshing sound swept throughout the corridor. I jumped back as blood froze in my veins.
Two shadows stretched out of the pitch-black staircase and lengthened on the floor. I flattened myself on the wall. No one should be here now, especially not me.
The two figures came to the light. Garbed in hazmat suits, they walked fast and with purpose, bolting past a few feet from where I stood. They were so engrossed with what they were doing that they didn’t even scan around. Perhaps they shared my thought that no one should be here at this hour.
I peeled from the wall and poked my head in the hallway. The duo waddled side to side as they moved, carrying a huge, blue container that exhaled white clouds of fumes. A striking yellow biohazard marked each side of the container.
“Hurry up!” A male muffled voice called out.
“I can’t! This thing’s heavy as hell.”
The men pulled up, their boots squeaked on the marble tiles. I snuck behind the wall. When I peeked out, the men had disappeared.
My eyes fell on the staircase where the men had come from as curiosity grew in me.
Consumed by darkness, an air
of mystery hung over the staircase. It looked both thrilling and spooky. The perfect match that spelled adventure. I cast another glance behind me. I was alone and feeling mischievous.
I turned on the flashlight on my tablet and let the bubble of brightness guide me down the flights. A wraith of blue light came from below. Dim but enough to lead me down the rest of the steps. So I pocketed my tablet.
The end of the stairway led to another double door. The blue light had filtered through the windows. The AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY warning had no effect on me.
I tiptoed to look through the window when it suddenly creaked. My stomach was in my throat when the double door hissed and split open, sliding into crevices on both sides. A gush of minty air kissed my cheeks in its wake.
“Welcome. Please follow safety measures in the laboratory,” greeted the mechanical voice ubiquitous in the university.
My fear was replaced with thrill. It wasn’t the first time I stepped into a lab with palpitations, but this felt different.
The first breath I took reeked of alcohol and antiseptics. Specimen jars decorated every bench, each accommodating clumps of science-knows-what floating in some sort of thick transparent liquid. The blue light had come from the multiscreens.
I ventured deeper. My head pivoted around, racing to feast my eyes with equipment that I had never seen before. Some huge as a fridge, towering over me. Others tiny as bullets, arranged on display cabinets. They came in various shapes and sizes.
I soaked in the innocent moment like a child getting her first introduction to the scientific wonderland until my eyes fell on a life-size cylindrical glass tank. It was around six feet tall and a woman was inside it.
“Blot my gel, Dr. Hershey?” I shot to the glass tank. “Please don’t die! I want to graduate!”
Hershey was suspended inside with her eyes closed. A peaceful expression graced her face as though she was in deep meditation…or dead. A network of metal pipes hung overhead, weaving down into two huge vents that were pouring blasts of gas into the tank. I was only a little relieved when I saw the rise and fall of her chest. The life gas, I supposed, was what kept her alive.
I slammed my fist against the thick glass that merely tremored. She didn’t budge. I sucked in a breath and raised my hand again when murmurs broke out at the door. My head snapped to the door where shadows flitted at the windows.
I staggered back and almost tripped on something when I saw micropipettes and tips litter all over the place. A wave of fear rushed through me.
The LAB COATS sign at the built-in cabinet caught my eye. I didn’t think much when I sprinted across the lab and threw myself in. Once the metal door closed, the smell of chemical and stale blood rushed into my nose and seared my lungs.
The door hissed and the mechanical voice announced my new company.
“My father of science! It still feels like a dream!” A male voice assumed the silence.
“Already downed my deposit for the new jet,” boasted a second male voice that was throaty and deeper.
Harsh laughter, dripping with arrogant malice, from the two men filled the room.
Unease rippled through me. I shifted in the limited space and peeked through the slits lining the steel cabinet door.
Two figures in hazmat suits stood near the closed lab doors, now unmasked. I shuddered and blinked my eyes rapidly. They were George and Edmund. My professors. Scientists in hazmat suits were a common sight around Connor University. But with the glass tank and Hershey floating unconscious in it, it set off all the alarms in my head.
“Our efforts of five years are finally coming to fruition.” George’s teeth bared in a cunning smile.
“Not yet.” Edmund’s voice was grim, the striking contrast of George’s. He glanced at George and pointed at Hershey’s motionless body. “What about her? You know we keep her like this forever, right? They’re gonna find out soon.”
George sneered and cuffed his companion on the head. “Don’t be so negative, Edmund. You’ve better things to worry about, such as how you’re gonna spend those bucks.” George went near the glass tank and waved his hand. A blue screen appeared out of thin air. He drew a circle in the air and the vents stopped emitting gas. The cloak of mist blurring the tank earlier now faded away.
Hershey coughed when she came around and her eyelids fluttered open. She struggled with the bindings at her wrists. Letting out a frustrated cry, she gritted her teeth and glared harder at George.
“You are both traitors!” Her voice was muffled by the glass wall of the tank. “How could you do this? You―” Hershey coughed and gasped.
George snorted. “Dr. Jane Hershey, the Queen of Genetics, strong-willed and as noble as ever.” His calm voice was heavy with scorn.
“Cash was busy working on Cranatol. I don’t blame her if she doesn’t know much about the virus. But you should know all about it.” Hershey steadied her voice yet her anger was still evident. “When it gets out, there’ll be a global pandemic!”
Unperturbed, George laughed. “I think you are the only one here who doesn’t know what’s going on. A pandemic is exactly what we want. How else are we going to get people to buy our product?”
Hershey struggled again as her eyes glinted with rage. “You think you can easily control it with Cranatol? Here’s a friendly reminder to you, George. Cranax was designed with an ability to modify the expression of the neurotic genes. The possibilities of what it can do are endless. One thing for sure, it will mess with your head. From all the tests we’d conducted, it’s not ready to meet the world, even you and I can see that. I’m afraid hundreds of innocent lives will be taken over the course of one day.”
I suppressed a gasp. My mind raced to process the shocking new information.
George remained unconvinced. “Hundreds? I think that’s an understatement, Hershey. But don’t worry. I’m sure the money we will be making will compensate for all the lives lost.”
“You are crazy, George! You’re a monster!”
George glanced at Edmund and both sniggered. George approached the tank. His face was two inches from Hershey’s, separated by the glass wall.
“You know what makes me feel worse? Looking at my bank account right now. I still remember struggling to pay up my tuition fees. I still remember surviving from paycheck to paycheck to clear my student loan debt. Well, Hershey, you must have been in the lab for too long. A couple of sorry lives is nothing in the grand scheme of things. When Cranax is out, MAD will be the global leader in the pharmaceutical industry. We will be the one and only Cranatol provider, the world’s only hope. You know what that means?” His lips stretched wider. “Simple economics. We create a monopoly. More money rolling into our pockets!”
No sign of fascination on Hershey’s face, only disgust. “You are sick. You caught the flu from Cash,” she spat as her eyes glowed with fury. This had to be the first time Hershey had lost it. “You will never lay your hands on Cranax!”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. All the seven vials of Cranax have been retrieved from Vector Research Base. Your friend, Dr. Robert Tan from the lab has been generous enough to lend us a hand. They are in fact on their way to be transported to MAD.” He winked viciously. “Efficient, aren’t we?”
“You didn’t!”
Hershey jerked forward and scrabbled to free herself. The metal restraints clanked. She merely shook the container. Hershey broke into a hysteric scream.
It cut my ears. I felt her agony pulsing through the steel door.
George raised his hand and Hershey stopped shouting. “Calm down, I brought you some souvenirs.”
A wry smile marked George’s face as he held his hand before Hershey. When she saw what was in his hand and her expression fell. George turned around and chucked whatever-it-was into the trash bin at his feet.
“No!” Hershey snapped. “George, don’t be a fool. You know better, you’ll need it. That’s the only thing that can inactivate Cranax, at leas
t for now.”
“Edmund.” George turned to Edmund, who took his side. “Will you please wipe Hershey’s tablet?” George turned to Hershey, whose damp hair hung over her face like seaweed. “She is out of the game.”
Edmund looked at the two in turn. “Wipe?” His voice wavered with uncertainty as his expression mimicked Hershey’s.
“Yes, completely.”
“George, this is suicide! Cranax was made in the lab. No one else in the world has any information about it. It’ll take years to decipher the genome, let alone its behavior. By then, everything will be too late!”
Hershey turned to Edmund. “This is wrong. There’s still a chance to turn back. Just in case. If Cranatol should fail―”