Invasion

by Eli Constant

  “It’s what I’m here for.”

  We talked for a few minutes longer. During the conversation, I asked Donna if she had any colored paper she could spare. When I left the nursery, I was carrying a small stash of pastel paper, scissors, and a glue stick. The perfect materials for birthday hats and a sign.

  Megan was still engrossed in her chess game. I decided not to bug her. Let her enjoy herself.

  My arrival back at Sub-lab 8 was met with a flurry of chatter and excitement. I found myself wondering what could have possibly happened in the past 2 hours to make the duo in front of me so enthused.

  “Seriously, one at a time; I can’t make out what you’re saying.” I held my hands out in front of me, palms down, letting them rise and fall- trying to motion them both to simmer down.

  One at a time, Jamie and Nick explained their individual progresses.

  Jamie had finished extracting the DNA from the undergrounder samples. She’d tried all three suggested parameters- firstly chimp, secondly human, thirdly a compromise parameter- 100 microliters of input, incubated at 58̊ Celsius for 15 minutes.

  Apparently, the third try had really been the charm in this case. We now had 80 micrograms of relatively pure undergrounder DNA from the full 12 mL syringe and the gallon autopsy jug.

  “Glad I didn’t risk my neck for nothing.” I smiled.

  “I know! I got so frustrated after human parameters failed, but I kept at it and ta-da.” She was beaming now.

  I wanted to remind her that separating the DNA was probably the easiest step in all our impossibly crazy tasks, but she looked like a kid at Christmas; I couldn’t deflate her… yet. “Come look at the analysis on the pulsed field electro.” Jamie was almost bouncing as she led me over to one of the lab tables.

  Nick had apparently already seen the info. He left our conversation, not that he was talking anyways what with Jamie monopolizing my attention.

  I stared at the DNA breakdowns side by side.

  “It would have been better if we could’ve split the haplotypes, but we just don’t have the equipment to get the cell out at a cycle phase when the chromosomes are split.”

  Jamie had separated out the paired chromosomes in the DNA using pulsed field gel electrophoresis or PFGE. The process allowed Jamie to initially visualize the chromosomal differences in undergrounders at a more detailed level than conventional gel plate chromatography or so she said.

  Jamie’s finger pointed at two sets of chromosomes positioned differently on the analysis and then slid her finger across to the adjacent analysis, showing me that these particular chromosomes were absent- humanoid and human.

  “See, I used a rapid method of extracting intact, structurally sound chromosomes and then purified them on a Percoli gradient.” Jamie was getting overexcited. I was beginning to suspect that she was just an excitable personality. “After several attempts, I was able to analyze uncontaminated individual chromosomes under an electron microscope.”

  Jamie was talking faster than a freight train moves; I couldn’t keep up with her. She placed another piece of paper in front of me. I figured the innocuous white paper must be pretty important, saved for last and all. Her hands made a ta-da motion.

  “The biochemical characterizations, enzyme activity, and build proteins of the different undergrounder chromosomes.” She almost yelled it. I half expected her to say ‘ta-da’ and throw her hands in the air in triumph. Her inhaler made an appearance, helping her calm down and breathe.

  “I understood about half of what you’ve been explaining. Congrats, I guess?” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “You know, you really are a kill joy.” She frowned and turned away from me to look at her computer screen. “Nick took over the software. He’s written initial coding for our artificial Oxygen atom; he’s still working on the structural challenges though. He’s also working on the vector programming, but he needs the parameters first and for that, we have to finish mapping the humanoid DNA. Oh… and work out the impossible kink of sizing down our actual nano-virus.” She paused, took a deep breath, and started talking again.

  “We should be able to simulate the appropriate mass and electron charge to accompany the artificial atom- allowing it to bond into an oxide molecule.” The inhaler was out again. Jeez. She really was an excitable little thing.

  “Great, but do we have the materials we needs to actually manufacture the nanotech?” I jumped out of my seat. “Hey!”

  Nick had walked up behind me, his voice startling me because I thought he was still across the room at his work station.

  “I’m still working on the how to make it so we can compile a comprehensive materials list.”

  “But you can do it?”

  “I can do it and when I do it, you will crown me ‘genius supreme’ and kneel at my feet.”

  “Make it happen Nick and I’ll wait on you hand and freaking foot.”

  He smiled.

  “You know what, I’m just going to leave you two alone and let you guys save the world. I’ve done my part; I had the idea after all.”

  “Na-ah, no way. You dragged us into this; you’re not squirming your way out now.” Jamie’s tone was reproachful, but her smile nulled the harshness.

  “I seriously don’t get what you’re saying. I poured over books, trying to make my pitch sound believable. You guys actually know what you’re doing.”

  “Sorry, you’re stuck with us.”

  “Fine… fine.” I grumbled and turned to Nick. “I know you’re still working on the how, but do you have any basic material ideas so we can ask Colonel Benson to start finding things we’ll need?”

  I found out, after asking that question, that Nick never had a ‘basic’ idea.

  “Well, I’m working on calculations that will allow me to further miniaturize the Harvard engine and use said engine as the structure and brain for holding the programmed vectors. The catalytic motor’s already been successfully made and proved functional at a size of two microns. We need to decrease that size exponentially, roughly a seventh of a nanometer, and then assign the properties of a natural Oxygen atom. Thusly, we have the container for the nano-virus. Sizing down the virus would be a hell of a lot easier if we could get our hands on the research from BritScience, but London’s been completely tech-killed for months now. On the brightside, we’re working with an artificial virus so we aren’t as limited by nature’s molecular rules.”

  Nick kept talking. Unfortunately, at the mention of ‘Harvard engines’ and ‘microns,’ my brain began to shut off. You would think I, being an expert on the anatomy of the brain, would have better command of my own brain. Brain engineer here, at your service. Oh, you want me to understand something else? Sorry. No can do.

  Now, Nick was trying to explain how he would assemble the nanotech using a micro-brewery system that would create and then integrate the organic and inorganic elements in his design.

  Stay on brain, stay on.

  “See, that’s the beauty of my programming. I set the self-assemblers in motion…

  What’s he saying now? Damn.

  “… the vector will bind as the end process. It will be contained because it’s bonded in an oxide molecule in nature…”

  La-la, la-la. Da de dum. Crap. Listen to what he’s saying, Elise!

  “… when inhaled it will naturally move through the respiration cycle. Then…” He paused. “Elise, are you even listening?”

  I looked at him. I think I’d fallen back into a mental humming. Oops.

  “Right. No, I heard you. The vector will be inhaled and something about the respiratory cycle.”

  “Elise!” I could tell he was frustrated with me. Oops again.

  Nick started talking again, Jamie chiming in every now and then, and I tried, my very best, to listen intently.

  Eventually, Nick and Jamie finished talking. I was glad. I didn’t think I could force my mind to pay attention much longer.

  I watched them work for a long time, feeling like I didn�
�t have a purpose. The stage of development had surpassed my knowledge base. When the door to our lab pushed open, I said a silent thank you to the cosmos.

  I was surprised to see Michael half-enter the lab. Colonel Benson had offered to install a key code pad, but we’d declined. No one ventured into the sub-lab section. Michael beckoned to me, wanting me to come over.

  I turned to say goodbye to Jamie and Nick.

  “Remember, it’s all you guys. Be geniuses, I’m just small time brain surgery. No comparison.” I winked at them then hustled over to Michael. I saw Jamie’s exasperated expression before turning.

  “Michael, what’s wrong?”

  “Dad told me where to find you.”

  “Didn’t answer my question, Michael.”

  He shifted uncomfortably.

  “He said you’d understand if I said: rescue team heading out.”

  “Did your Dad tell you anything else?”

  “No. He had to get ready. Apparently, he’s flying the rescue. He told me to come down here immediately and find you. He said you had about half an hour before he flew out.”

  It was almost four-thirty now. Jeez, I’d been back at the lab for almost three hours already. It would be dusk outside soon, closing in on darkness. Usually, I’d be getting ready to head to dinner with the girls.

  Not tonight.

  “Thanks Michael.” He looked past my body into the lab. Jamie and Nick were staring at us curiously. My hand on his shoulder encouraged Michael to turn around. We walked out of the lab together and took the stairs to the upper level of the facility.

  Michael didn’t want to, but we parted ways. I turned back once to make sure he was leaving. He wasn’t. He looked at me and I looked at him. Shaking my head, I told him again to leave.

  “Michael, this doesn’t concern you. Please go. I’ll explain everything at some point. Tell the girls I’ll see them in the room. Will you please watch them for me until I get there?”

  “Sure.” His look was suspicious.

  I didn’t move towards Lab-3 until I was positive he was gone. When the sound of his footsteps died in the distance, I ran.

  Peters was with Meg.

  “Where’s O’Toole?”

  “He hasn’t been feeling well today. I sent him to the infirmary about an hour ago; thought he’d be back by now.”

  “We can’t wait to talk to him. A rescue chopper is about to leave and we need to get her on board pronto.”

  Meg knew the plan. O’Toole and Peters had already helped her understand, in detail, what she needed to do. She was so intelligent; I didn’t worry about her forgetting anything.

  She was to hide on the plane until they started to board the survivors and then get out of the chopper and re-board. The success of this plan banked on confusion and enough survivors to mask the addition of Meg.

  It was a shot in the dark and our gun sights needed adjusting.

  It would have been better if we’d been able to take our time, sneak through the halls, wait till the facility was quiet in the night.

  By my calculations though, we had about 15 more minutes to get Meg to the hangar and get her hidden on the chopper. Meg was roughly the size of a thirty month child now. Her growth had slowed over the past week, but wasn’t human-slow yet. In the past two days, however, there’d been only miniscule chartable growth. The doctors thought that her growth should be normalized in the next few days.

  I felt confident we could pass Meg off as human in the facility and we were all relieved that the rapid growth of the undergrounder gene had been a seemingly short-lived expression, lessening daily.

  We had no delusions about her intelligence though. Meg’s current knowledge base far exceeded her physical appearance.

  “Brilliant.” I looked at the duffel bag Peters had procured. It was large enough for a contorted Meg, but small enough that it wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. “Has she tried to fit in it before?”

  “Yes. One reason to love her overly-exaggerated, double joints.” I watched him set the duffel on the floor and unzip it. Meg, wearing a pair of torn pants and an over-sized brown tee, sat down in the bag with her legs tucked under her body. I heard a slight cracking as she lowered her face to rest against her thighs. Her arms popped as the elbows angled in and her forearm angled back. Her little body was a small rectangle, fitting well inside the black material.

  “Meg, are you going to be okay like that?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “When I get back, do I get to live with you?”

  “Focus on the getting back part. I’ll take care of the rest, ok?” She didn’t need to know it now, but the doctors and I had already agreed that her life would be more normal and balanced if I ‘adopted’ her permanently.

  “Okay.” Peters closed the bag, being very careful not to catch Meg’s now foot-long moon-silver hair in the zipper.

  “It has a dual zipper pull. She won’t have a problem getting out.” Peters assured me. Guess he saw my hands clenched in fists at my sides.

  “I’ll breathe easier when she’s back safe.” He picked up our living cargo and we fast-walked out of the lab and out of the science wing. I checked my watch.

  “We’ve got seven minutes.” We slowed our pace as we turned corners.

  If the coast was clear, we sped up again. If there were people, we slowed down and waved.

  “Try and smile doctor. You look like someone’s holding a gun to your back.” I whispered the words through a forced smile. Peters grunted and tried to force a thin-lipped grin. “That’s very convincing.” He grimaced at me.

  “I’m trying damn it.”

  Making it to the hangar was the easy part. Getting Meg on the chopper was not so simple.

  We stood outside of the large swinging doors. I pushed one of the doors open, ever so slightly, and spotted Jason conversing with a group of men next to a helicopter that was being fueled. Then an idea struck.

  “Peters, wait here. When I signal, you make a beeline for the copter and get her on board.” I leaned down, speaking into the duffel that Peters carried. “Meg, listen close; you wait until you feel the landing and hear voices yelling. You unzip and get out. Remember everything the doctors have told you.”

  I heard a muffled ‘okay.’

  I wanted to reassuringly pat Peters on the back, but I only managed a half-hearted, shoulder bump. I needed to make this quick. We didn’t want someone finding Peters waiting without a believable reason for his location.

  “Peters, if someone finds you, for God’s sake, try and act casual.”

  Walking into and across the ginormous room, I called to Jason. “Jason, Jason!” His head swung up and around. I could see the bewilderment in his eyes. That bewilderment shifted to a look that clearly said whatever your plan is, it sucks. He could be so silently expressive.

  “Hi sweetheart, got a minute?” I said it sweetly, more sweetly than was my nature, hopefully that would clue Jason in. Jason glanced around at his fellow conversers.

  “Um… sweetie,” he really stressed ‘sweetie.’ Guess he hadn’t been expecting open intimacies. Boy was he about to get a surprise. “We’re about to fly out. We’re trying to get ready.” I walked closer and placed my hand on his arm and squeezed.

  “Oh, this’ll only take a minute.” I let more sickening sweetness bleed into my words. He scanned the men he was talking to and rolled his eyes.

  “You have a minute, not a second more.” We walked a short distance away.

  “Damn, guess the honeymoon’s over.”

  When we were out of hearing distance, he whispered. “Is this your idea of covertly stowing the girl away in the chopper? If it is, maybe you should enlist a new strategist.”

  “Yes, it sucks. It will suck more if we fail and have to wait till who-knows-when to try again.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Is anyone in the chopper right now?”

  “Nope.”

  “Great. I need a distraction.”

  We l
ooked at each other. My plan wasn’t a pleasant one so I gave him a minute to think of something better.

  “Drawing a blank here.” Jason crossed his arms.

  Damn. I’d really been hoping he’d come up with something better than the idea bouncing around in my brain.

  “Okay. If there’s no better idea, this’ll have to do.” I didn’t wait for him to respond.

  My arm cocked back and fired. I wasn’t super strong, but my aim was good. The blow to his lower abdomen sent the air rushing out of Jason’s lungs. He grunted and his knees buckled. Then I started screaming at him. Poor newlywed. It’s like men claim- women are supplicating, sexually giving, in-shape- and then you marry them. They become demanding, frigid, and 400 lbs.

  “You stupid, lying, cheating son of a bitch!” I quick paused to slap him on the arm. “What? Married two seconds and you can’t keep your dick in your pants.” I reared my left leg back to kick him. I was hoping my foot wouldn’t connect; it didn’t. My body was pulled back away from Jason by strong arms. “Let me go. I hate you, Jason. I hate you!”

  “Ma’am you need to calm down.” Two different men held me back. I struggled, scanning the hangar as I moved. Everyone was crowded around Jason and me.

  I realized then that I’d never discussed with Peters what my signal would be. I waved my arms spastically and hoped he took the hint. Jason stood up. I mentally urged him to play his part and play it well.

  “Elise, what the hell is wrong with you?” He came towards me with violence in his eyes; I hoped it was fake anger. He was inches from me before two other men restrained him. I wanted to look towards the hangar doors. I wanted to be sure Peters was making his move. I didn’t look. Points for me.

  “You screwed some other woman, that’s what’s wrong with me. Do you think I’m stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” I tried to pull away from the men holding me- gold stars for drama.

  “Listen to me closely. The only person I’ve screwed in over a year is you. I love you.”

  I had to look now and what I saw was the right hangar door swinging closed. I prayed that the closing door meant what I was hoping it meant.

  I slumped in my captors arms. Jason glanced at the two men holding him and they nodded, giving him the go-ahead to approach. He moved towards me and placed his hands on either side of my face. “Elise, I love you.”