by M. Lorrox
She carries the offending slide over to a sink and gets to work at scrubbing the dried blood off. She grabs a small metal instrument resembling a miniature-spatula and scrapes it across the dried blob. A hard piece cracks off, and under it is some brown liquid. “What in the world?” She peers at it. Blood? That’s...no. That can’t be. What is it?
A set of forceps on a nearby table call her name, and after grabbing them, she breaks off another piece of the hard material. She preps a new slide with the material and sets it aside. She gets a new cover plate and wedges the corner of the thin glass into the liquid; a small amount flows onto the plate. She presses a slide glass to the cover plate and forms a second new slide.
She carries these two new slides over to a compound microscope. She puts the slide with the liquid in first, flips on the under-sample light, and swings in the 40x objective. She lowers her eyes to the 10x eyepiece, and looks at the image that is magnified four hundred times. “Alright, what do we have here?” Are those... Are these red blood cells? She swaps in the 60x objective and focuses the lens. Wait. This looks familiar.
Sitting up, she turns back to the computer and clicks through a few folders and then opens an image. She shakes her head. “That can’t be.” No way.
She pulls the slide off the microscope and sets it aside. She puts the sample of the hardened material on the stage and examines it. “And this looks like…a lattice of some sort.” She leans up from the microscope and checks the time. Dr. Melgaard won’t be in until the morning.
“Time to get to work.” She first puts the samples through a differential-interference-contrast microscope and takes some images through the computer. She prints out the images and prints out images of other samples they’ve previously gathered. She sets out an empty slide storage tray and organizes the original sample, then the slides she’s made from it.
Back through the maze of the lab, she starts a pot of coffee in the galley, then she returns to her work area and makes a new pair of slides from the tiniest bits of the samples that she can collect. She runs them through a low-voltage electron microscope. More printouts. Back to the galley. The coffee is done, and she pours a big mug.
Rejuvenated by her favorite stimulant, Candace takes the sample of blood that was just blasted with electrons and checks it on the compound microscope. She’s only a little surprised when she sees that the sample wasn’t destroyed.
She smiles. Time for cryo. She preps the same miniscule but robust sample of the blood for the cryo-electron microscope. While she’s waiting, she rechecks and organizes her earlier printouts.
Bathroom. Eager pacing. Water.
When the images from the cryo-electron microscope finally come through to the computer, she stares at the results for over a minute. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this!” She jumps up from her chair and screams while punching into the sky. “Woohoo!”
This is it... This, is it. This is what we need… This changes everything—Lars.
She shuffles through stacks of papers on the desk. “Oh, dang it. Where is that list?”
She frantically moves her bag, then the keyboard, and finally she finds the emergency contact list. She dials.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Melgaard. I’m sorry to bother you at so late an hour.”
“Candace? It’s one in the morning.”
“I know, but sir, you’ve got to see this, and you’ll want to get here as soon as possible.”
“Candace, what’s this about?”
“A new sample!” She waves her arm and accidentally knocks over the compound microscope. It knocks into some glassware and pushes the slide storage tray off the table.
She grabs the tray of precious slides in mid-air. The other glassware shatters at her feet.
“What was that? Is everything alright?”
“Oh my, yes, I’m just too excited. Sir, please hurry.”
“Fine. I’m on my way.”
Dr. Melgaard arrives within an hour. When the elevator doors open, he finds Candace sitting in a chair off to the side of the hall with a mug in her hand. She sets the empty cup down on the floor, then springs to her feet. “Sir, thank you for coming, I found something amazing.”
“I’d say it must be; you have never called me at home.”
“Come, come.” She leads him through the lab to her work area.
He struggles to keep up with her. “So, tell me… What is it that you have found?”
She answers without turning around or slowing down. “I don’t want to prime your judgment, so you’ll just have to bear with me a little longer.”
Inside the lab, Candace had moved a table and had organized stacks of papers on top. Lars looks around at the disheveled space. “Is that broken glass over there?”
“Yes, I’ll clean it up later. Look.” She puts her finger down on an image of the blood from the optical, contrast microscope. “This is of a sample that survived the autoclave.”
He looks at the image, then at Candace. “Survived?”
She nods.
“That’s not possible, there must be a mistake…” Something catches his eye, and he bends down. “Is that a red blood cell?”
“Yes.”
He sets the image down and moves down the line. He glances across the table at the other stacks. “These are all from the same sample?”
“Yes, I gave it the works, all the way up to cryo-EM.”
He picks up a sheet and studies it. “This looks like a zombie sample. Candace, where did you encounter one? Have there been any here, in the city?”
Candace shakes her head. She picks up a couple printouts from the end of the table and hands them to him. “I collected this sample today at the hotel.”
He can’t hold back a tiny quake through his body. “Wait, are you saying that someone has been infected with the virus and that they are showing tolerance of it?”
“A vampire, yes. Infected with the virus, but not exhibiting symptoms nor targeting it as a pathogen and eliminating it.”
Lars rubs his eyes, then his whole face. “Are you sure?”
“I ran all the tests three times.” She slams her finger down on the optical image of the red blood cells. “This sample could be the key to unlocking a vaccine!”
He leans against the table, then starts laughing. “You did it!”
She beams with pride.
“Where is this sample? How much is there?”
“There’s not much.” She lifts herself up and sits on the table, sliding papers off it and onto the floor. “There was just one slide of the sample to start with, and only about half a drop came out of the autoclave. There’s still a small amount of viable liquid though, I’ve got it stored as Donor X1.”
Lars stretches his hand out over the table of printouts. “You did all this with half a drop of sample?”
Candace folds her arms across her chest. “You know I’m the best.”
“You definitely are!” He picks up a printout and studies it. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I checked the sample. I never thought something like this was possible, but there it is!” She points off toward a refrigerator they use to store samples.
The doctor walks in front of Candace, extends his hands, and takes hers. He kisses them. “You did it! We can fight the virus! If we can learn how this person is able to control the virus, we can make a vaccine!” He squeezes her hands. “And we will succeed... We may need more sample. Who is it from?”
Now the hard part. She sighs and pulls her hands away. “I’m not exactly sure. The wax-pencil labels came off in the autoclave.”
Jäklar! Lars scowls and rubs his chin.
Candace swallows. “I have records of who I saw though. So as long as they haven’t left, we should be able to track them down.”
“Do we have enough sample left to get sequences?”
Candace nods with enthusiasm. “Yes, I think so! I figure we can at least see how these cells
have adapted.” She laughs. “The cells are still alive!”
His frustration is replaced with wonder as he shakes his head, then he laughs with her. “Excellent work doctor. Truly excellent.” He glances at the refrigerator with the sample again, then he clears his throat. “I’m going to start by identifying the viral strain. You go home and get a good night’s rest. You’ve earned it, and you’ll need it.”
She pops off the desk. “I should stay and clean up a little.”
He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Go home, Candace. I’ve got this. You can come in fresh in the morning and take over for me.”
She smiles. “Thank you, Lars.”
He nods.
Candace collects her things while Dr. Melgaard makes himself a pot of coffee in the galley. As she passes by on her way to the elevator, she notices him leaning on the counter, waiting for it to finish. “Good luck, sir!”
“See you in a few hours.”
She walks to the elevator to exit the lab.
When Lars hears the doors close, he smiles. When the coffee finishes dripping, he pours a cup and walks through the entire lab. It takes him fifteen minutes, but he has coffee now, and he doesn’t rush. Empty. He enters the room he’s using as a private office, and he unlocks a cabinet. He pulls out a couple of electronic devices and arranges them on a table. He connects them with some wires, plugs the assembly in to AC power, connects an Ethernet cable, and finally attaches a USB handset. He checks a readout on one of the boxes, then hits buttons on the handset before holding it to his ear. He waits.
“Yes?”
“A new opportunity has presented itself.”
“Meaning?”
Lars swallows. “Prepare pre-launch for M.”
“That’s sooner than we expected. Maybe we should discuss this opportunity in person.”
“If you wish, but the outcome will be the same.”
“…Very well. I’ll begin the preparations.”
Lars nods. “I’ll contact you again when I know more.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
It’s three am on Wednesday morning, and June can’t sleep. She took the medicine Candace gave her, but it doesn’t do anything. She lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. Skip snores lightly, and although she used to think it was cute because it was her dad, now it’s driving her crazy. It’s so loud.
Outside their bedroom, across the shared living room area, and inside the Costanzas’ bedroom—she can hear them all sleeping too. Every time Charlie rolls over or shifts position, the bed creaks, and every time it does, it drives like a nail into her ear.
Out in the hall, occasionally someone walks by. Outside the hotel window, flights take off and land at the airport. Out on the ground, traffic.
-honk, honk, honk, honk, honk…- She sits up. You’ve got to be kidding me! She looks out the window. Across the street and down a side-road, a car alarm blares. She squeezes her eyes shut and groans. A jet passes overhead. To her, the rumble cuts through the walls like they weren’t there.
“Stop!” She holds her hands to her ears and squeezes her eyes shut. How can vampires sleep through all this?
“June?” Skip sits up in his bed. “What’s wrong?”
She takes her hands off her ears and looks at him. “Everything is so loud.”
He yawns. “What would help?”
June walks over and sits on his bed. “I dunno. Do you think the front desk has ear plugs?”
He rubs his eyes. “Maybe.” He yawns again.
“Go back to sleep, Dad, I’ll go down and check.”
“You sure?”
She stands up. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Alright, but take your phone, just in case, and don’t leave the hotel. Promise?”
“Promise, Dad.”
He lays back down. June grabs her shades, then quietly creeps through the living room and out the door to the hallway. She clicks it closed as quietly as she can, and she can hear her dad’s soft snores again. He’s so lucky.
At the front desk, the attendant tells her they’re all out of earplugs.
Of course, the place is filled with vampires. Crap. And I can’t go anywhere to buy any. She looks out toward the courtyard. A sign is stuck to the door that reads, Temporarily Closed. She turns back to the attendant. “Why’s the courtyard closed?”
“Somebody saw an ant, so they sprayed insecticide.”
“That seems extreme.”
The attendant shrugs. “Can’t have bugs near a restaurant.”
Just then, a bellman pulls a cart filled with luggage through the door. One of the pieces scrapes a zipper against the glass and ticks on the metal frame. She shakes her head. “Is there any place in this hotel that’s quiet and away from people? I need to disappear for a little while.”
“Actually, there is.” The attendant glances toward the bellman, who heads back outside to grab another cart. “There’s a garden on the roof. I’m supposed to close it at midnight, but I never had a chance to go up there, so it’s still open.” He reaches down below the counter and hands June a sign that says CLOSED. “Maybe you could go up there and close it for me? Feel free to hang out up there, just lock the door behind you when you leave.”
June smiles. “Alright, I can do that.”
The attendant notices the bellman turning around to walk back in. “Hide the sign.”
She rolls it into a loose tube and walks away. “Okay, thanks.”
The attendant smiles as June leaves. The bellman walks over to the desk and sighs. “So...”
The attendant holds up a finger and watches June get into the elevator. “Sorry, what’s up?”
“Think we’ve got time to watch the new episode of The Hammer?”
“My girl’s gonna swing by later, but I think there’s time. I gotta take a whiz—meet you in the break room in five.”
June rides the elevator to the top floor of the hotel. She, Eddy, and Minnie hadn’t explored it before, because, well, their suite is pretty high, and there didn’t seem much of a point to go up higher. Nobody said anything about a garden though. She snorts. Right. Vampires and sunlight don’t mix.
The doors open to a little room with a glass door that leads outside. She places the sign on a tiny hook stuck to the glass, and walks out. Before shutting the door, she checks how it locks. There’s a little tab that spins to lock the door, and she spins it. Then she tests to see if she’ll be able to reopen the door from outside—she can. She smiles and closes the door, locking everyone else inside.
Being a rooftop garden on a vampire hotel, the pathways are well covered with awnings. Except for a few hours in the morning and evening, there’s always a shaded place to walk. There are some overhead lights attached to the awnings, but they’re off. The ground is covered with paving stones and gravel, and the perimeter of the roof is filled with planter boxes interspersed with benches and large swinging seats. I bet this is pretty during the day.
She completes a full lap before deciding where she wants to relax. She picks a swinging bench with a very large rhododendron bush on one side, and with a view over the edge of the building to the other. She looks out and sees the Washington Monument across the river. The pair of red lights at its top pulse hypnotically, untroubled by the activity of the city around it.
She watches the lights flash on and off for what could have been hours. The noise from passing planes and traffic are louder here, and at first it disturbs her, but because now it is steadier and more enveloping—coming from all directions—it somehow grows less distracting. Like a constant breeze during a nap, it washes over her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees something flash. She glances toward it. It’s on top of another building across the street and down a little. The light grows to bright orange, then it arcs down a little bit, and dies to an ember red.
A cigarette.
June coughs. No way I can smell that from here. She watches the rhythmic show. Every so often, the person brings the cigarett
e to their lips and takes a slow drag from it. Is it a man? Yes, that’s a man. It glows brighter. She can just about make out his face. His eyes are closed. He’s savoring it. He opens his eyes and looks at the cigarette. He looks out into the night. He looks at her.
June startles and almost falls out of the swinging bench. He can’t see me, can he? No, I’m in the dark. She watches him. He’s watching this hotel. He looks down to the street below, then back up, then back down again.
He turns and flicks the cigarette over the side of the building.
Another man walks up behind him. “Blackjack?”
“Hey, T.”
June jolts in surprise. No way I can hear them. What’s going on?
“Are we alone?”
“Yeah. This is big.”
“You said it’s better than you thought, right?”
“Yeah. A big opportunity has fallen into our laps, and we’ve got to do it tomorrow night.”
“What opportunity?”
“Their president is going to be there, giving a presentation to the other freaks. They’ll all crawl out of their holes to see him.”
“Wow, but you know I haven’t finished it yet. I probably need another day.”
“I can help after my shift, but we need to roll at fourteen-hundred.”
“Wait—today or tomorrow night?”
“Jesus Christ. We roll in about ten hours, is that specific enough?”
“Shit. It’s gonna be tight.”
“I know you can do it.”
“And we still need a detonator.”
June gasps.
“I’ve got that covered. I’m meeting with my contact’s guy in a couple hours. He said he’ll have it ready for us.”
“Same plan? Cell, right?”
“Yup. This guy’s giving us the whole package; we won’t have to build the receiver.”
“That’ll help. How much did it cost?”
June hears Blackjack clear his throat. “More than I wanted, but it’s a rush job.”