Wow, what a piece of work, Frank thought, feeling agitated already. Stevenson sounded like the narrator of those old, ridiculous informative videos. Frank looked over to see if their guest was following along.
He seemed to have no trouble being guided by Jarvis, all the while, studying everything in the large room, suspicious.
Everyone in the lab wore the typical white coats like Frank’s and Jarvis’s. Some wore protective eye gear, some gloves, and some wore both as they all hunched over test tubes, chemicals, microscopes, and small plant specimens, whispering among themselves.
“How would you explain your experiment, Dr. Stevenson?” Mr. Durand asked. He tilted his head as he stared at one of the beakers of a greenish-looking liquid. There was a hint of skeptical curiosity in his voice. “So I know what to work with when I address it to the people. Genetic engineering isn’t my specialty, you see.”
As he spoke, one of his men pulled out a pen. He clicked it opened and aimed it at the clipboard.
Jarvis stopped at the end of the room and said in his annoying narrator voice, “I’m glad you asked. Genetic engineering can be used for many things. Sometimes, it’s when we inject a desired trait that is ‘programmed’, if you will, into a living organism’s genes. It usually comes from another living organism, and we just take the trait we want and put it in the other. It’s tedious work, but it can be so beneficial.”
On cue, Frank handed one of Mr. Durand’s lackeys a bunch of papers. Geez, Jarvis would be ready for a briefing at the end of the world. Frank looked over at their guest.
Mr. Durand seemed weary—but like he was trying to hide it, standing erect and staring down at some of the plants. “Sounds a bit dangerous,” he said, more to himself.
“Oh, it can be,” Jarvis said. “There are rules for it, you see.”
Of course he sees, Jarvis; he is the chairman. If he didn’t know those rules, he wouldn’t be here. Frank couldn’t help his rude thoughts that interjected. He corrected himself, hoping it didn’t show on his face.
“First of all,” Dr. Stevenson continued, “we’re not allowed to inject humans with a new genetic trait due to possible side effects, though we’re fully able to add new DNA to plants and animals.”
By the look on Mr. Durand’s face, it all seemed to click now, like it had just hit him what they did in the lab. “DNA,” he mused, face grim. It appeared he wasn’t just there for the committee’s approval anymore, gripped by his own curiosity. For some reason, using that word just unsettled him; he must have been thinking it was unnatural to mess with someone’s innate coding. Sometimes Frank agreed. It only appeared to heighten Mr. Durand’s disapproval—and even made Frank nervous.
“Yes,” Jarvis replied. “We extract the desired DNA—or rDNA—from another organism and add it to the normal DNA.”
Geez, there he goes, just a broken record. Did the chairman notice?
It was as Frank feared. The chairman released a slow breath when he heard the repetitive words, holding back a sigh, no doubt. He stood firm and looked Jarvis square in the eye. “What exactly am I here to approve, Dr. Stevenson? What does your genetic engineering experiment have to offer?”
Growing excited, Jarvis grabbed a plant and held it between them. Frank wanted to hold him down, but that would really make them look bad.
“Food production,” Jarvis answered. “We introduce an rDNA that strengthens plants’ immune system, protecting them against harmful pesticides and giving us a bountiful amount of healthy produce.” He set the plant down. “And we can do the same for animals—protect them against harmful pathogens so that the food we ingest isn’t affected by it. This will make sure we don’t repeat mistakes like Mad Cow Disease or others like that.” His eyes were wide and he wore a smile to match. “We could completely get rid of salmonella poisoning.”
Mr. Durand rubbed his chin and stared up, the smiling man now gone, and Frank could feel the panic rising. “But surely you haven’t asked me here to show me what you’ve been doing.”
Jarvis looked as if he was going to explode with excitement. He led the chairman to a corner of the room, where a machine with a large oven-like door stood like a mighty metal beast. “We’re trying a new chemical combination that we mix with the rDNA and inject into the system. It adds the desired trait and intensifies the subject’s original dominant one. So, if you add it to a plant, you protect it from pesticides and, at the same time, make it able to go through photosynthesis much quicker than normal, resulting in a bountiful amount of oxygen for us. Or if added to an animal, it could produce a higher amount of protein or other essential materials without actually harming the creature.”
Intrigued, the chairman nodded and stared at the gigantic contraption. His newfound curiosity smoothed away any nervousness. They would have him in the bag after this. “So, what’s this for?” he wondered.
But Jarvis hesitated, more than likely trying to carefully pick his words, not wanting to ruin everything they had worked for. “Well, the chemical itself is radioactive,” he explained, reluctant. “It freezes at a very low temperature. If we hold it just above its freezing point, we are able to stabilize it and mix it with the rDNA.”
There was a silence as Mr. Durand thought. “Well, what happens if you heat it?” It was just a curious question.
Thinking, Jarvis turned his eyes upward and bobbed his head from side to side.
Watch what you say, Frank wanted to growl at him.
“The results were inconclusive,” Dr. Stevenson responded, finding no reason to lie. “We slowly brought the heat up on it and it began to boil and glow the hotter it got. Oddly enough, we couldn’t tell if it was still radioactive or not; the results were too inconsistent. And it refused to mix, so we didn’t bother trying to look any further into it.”
“Couldn’t tell?” the chairman repeated, almost baffled by such an odd notion. Frank didn’t blame him. It was strange.
Jarvis nodded. “I know it sounds odd, but yes. It would spike up then drop down repetitively and wouldn’t stabilize itself.”
“Hmmm,” the chairman mused. “I’d have to say, your freezing idea sounds like it could be promising. Perhaps we could benefit from further experimentation after all.”
Jarvis’s smile grew brighter and Frank couldn’t help but grin himself. Could it actually be happening? Could all of their research finally be paying off? His heart fluttered in his chest as hope filled him.
Smiling back, Mr. Durand began, “So, let’s talk about how we’re going to—”
“Dr. Stevenson!”
They turned to the voice.
A man hurried toward them. His bright blue, frazzled eyes locked onto Jarvis.
And in a moment, their smiles fell. Frank stared wide-eyed at the man, hoping he would see so he could shake his head to warn him off, but the man didn’t look. It was as if he anticipated exactly what Frank would do.
“Y-yes, Henry?” Jarvis hesitated.
Henry stopped in front of them abruptly, shaking like a leaf, his wild, red hair unkempt. “I have to speak to you about the chemical,” he said.
Frank clenched his jaw tight, knowing now it was only a matter of how fast it would all come crumbling down.
Jarvis winced a bit but mustered all the kindness he could and said, “Not right now, Henry.”
“Now, hold on just a minute,” the chairman interjected, concern on his face. “If it’s about this new radioactive material, I want to hear everything about it.”
The man’s eyes seemed to light up and he eagerly shook Mr. Durand’s hand. “I’m Henry, sir,” he introduced himself.
Now Henry was the one Frank needed to hold down. He tried once more to catch Henry’s eye, but Henry would have nothing to do with Frank. They knew each other too well.
Brows furrowing, Jarvis turned to the chairman and tried to say, “You don’t want to do this, Mr.—”
“What I was saying was, if given time and a copy of the chemical’s formula, I could make it safe for
humans,” Henry rattled on. Excited, he continued to shake the chairman’s hand. “If I could get permission to test it at extremely high temperatures, I know I can find a breakthrough! We could destroy all these deadly illnesses. And then we could take it a step further! Just think of it—we could make super humans! Soldiers and specialists to send overseas and into battles! Think of the endless possibilities! All our enemies would be putty in our powerful hands. We would be on top of the entire world! Why, we could even—”
“Slow down, sir,” snapped Mr. Durand, retracting his hand and giving Henry a stern look. Frank waited for the damage. “We aren’t looking to make war, here. And if Dr. Stevenson said that we shouldn’t risk it on people, I’m not planning on just letting that happen.”
Something flickered in Henry’s eyes.
Oh no. Here we go. Frank took a small step closer and tried to lean into view.
“Dr. Stevenson? I was the one who discovered the formula!” Henry continued ranting. Jarvis froze in worry as they all watched Henry’s face turn red. “If we don’t allow ourselves to experiment, how are we ever going to get anywhere?!”
“Well, America’s not willing to risk lives for such a thing as experimentation on humans unless it’s proven safe before we do so,” the chairman concluded.
Frank could read the offense all over Henry’s face. Furious, the frazzled man took a step forward.
“H-Henry, have you taken your medication yet today?” Jarvis hinted, stepping in front of him.
Frank screamed inwardly. He might as well have told Durand to shut down the lab!
Shocked, Henry glared at his boss, offended by the very nerve. “Medication…?” he whispered. In the blink of an eye, his hands were on Jarvis’s coat and he shook him wildly. “MEDICATION?!”
“Oh no,” Frank grumbled under his breath. He brought a tired hand up and rubbed his forehead.
The two men behind the chairmen were quick to react and grabbed the furious man by either arm, ripping his grip away from Stevenson to hold Henry at bay.
“You said you’d tell him to consider it!” Henry glared at Jarvis, hatred burning deep within his eyes. It was scary when he got like that. “You shot down my idea because I have to take medication, didn’t you?!” Henry accused bitterly.
It was Frank’s turn to step in. He found his way between everyone. “Whoa, hey!” He found himself laughing, though he felt like a nervous wreck. “It’s all good!” Then he turned to Henry. “I got him from here.”
The two men looked at Jarvis for approval.
Jarvis sighed and nodded.
They released Henry over to Frank. He got a good grip on Henry’s arm. Frank’s large, calm hand seemed to instantly steady his small friend. There was a dead silence in the air and when Frank looked around, he noted all the eyes in the room on them—not surprised, but worried. They all knew Henry.
“Make sure he takes his medication, Dr. Stein,” Jarvis warned in his ear.
“Of course,” Frank agreed through his teeth, biting back his accusations of Jarvis’s agitation of the event. From there, he dragged the shaking Henry out the second pair of doors and into a hallway speckled with office entrances. They hurried out the exit on the opposite end of the hall. Henry didn’t struggle a bit but that didn’t keep Frank from keeping a tight grip on him.
Once the doors opened outside, Henry shielded his pale face from the sun until his light eyes could adjust. Frank’s dark eyes kept him from becoming helpless in the light, and he guided Henry to a spot against the wall, in the shade of the roof. As his friend sunk down, broken, Frank found a spot next to him.
“Thanks, Frankie,” Henry grumbled, embarrassed.
“Hey, no problem,” he sighed, waving the comment away.
They sat in silence for a while as Henry tried to calm down, though it didn’t seem to work—it never really did when Stevenson cracked down on him. With obvious frustration, Henry pulled out a box of cigarettes and jammed one between his lips. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a lighter and flicked it on, burning the end of the cigarette. As it glowed bright, he flipped close his lighter and put it away. Then he took a big drag on the death stick and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
Frank waited a moment for his friend to get a few decent puffs, watching as he pulled the shaking stick up, then down—up, then down. Henry told Frank all the time that smoking helped, but that was just another delusion. Frank finally turned to him. “Henry, why didn’t you take your medication?” he dared asked. He was the only one who could get a real answer.
Henry let his head fall back onto the hard brick wall, all the emotion and fervor he had felt only moments before gone in the puff of his smoke. “He won’t listen to me because I have a disorder,” he grumbled instead, followed by another deep inhale and exhale of smoke.
So sensitive. Geez. “No, he won’t listen to you because you insist on not paying attention to the rules when you do your research,” Frank corrected. He was calm, keeping in mind that it was his job to keep both of their emotions in check.
“I discovered that material,” Henry murmured.
“I know, man,” Frank sighed. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder, letting Henry know he was there for him. “But it was under company time, in the presence of your coworkers—you know what that means.”
“They took all my notes,” Henry continued. “I didn’t even have time to make a copy.”
“It was for company purposes,” Frank reminded him.
Pursing his lips, Henry exhaled deeply through his nose. Then he brought the cigarette up to his mouth and took in another breath.
Frank stared at him, worried. He knew exactly what the problem was. “Let me see it.”
Without looking, Henry reached into his jacket pocket and produced a full bottle of small, round, white lithium pills and handed them over.
Examining them closely, Frank grew confused. “A new bottle?” But as he read the prescription label, his question was answered. “You got this three months ago?” he demanded, expecting an answer. He couldn’t believe it. This was a new extreme.
Henry let out a puff of smoke.
But Frank should have expected as much. With that, he shook his head and sighed again. “Henry, you know you’re a better worker when you take these.”
“But I also know I’m a better thinker when I don’t,” huffed Henry, his eyes remaining fixed on the air in front of him.
“Then use this time to think,” his friend insisted. “Your health is more important than this work. I know you don’t feel that way, but you know it.” When he saw Henry’s lack of a reaction, he grumbled, “What about that charity auction? Isn’t that tonight?”
Henry closed his eyes, annoyed, clearly not wanting to hear about some fancy-pants event he hosted every year. It was used to raise money for orphans, widows, and research—research that would always be taken away. “Yes,” he hissed through his clenched teeth.
Frank leaned over, challenging him. “Then you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of everyone by having an episode, do you?”
It seemed Henry was still unresponsive, but his friend knew he had him right where he wanted him.
“Take your meds, Henry,” he muttered, holding out the bottle in front of the frazzled man’s face.
After a moment, Henry snatched the bottle away and stood to his feet. He took a long drag on his cigarette, then flicked it onto the concrete and swung open the door.
“And you better be smiling like usual when Liza and I get there—you know how much she worries!” Frank warned after him as the door closed. When it was shut, he couldn’t help but smile a bit and shake his head.
Same old stubborn Henry Jekyll.
—
Ding-dong!
Suzette jumped up from her seat at the melodious sound and hurried to the door, nearly dancing across the floor, her bright yellow skirt fluffing out as it caught air. As her hand fell on the knob, she forced herself to stop; she didn’t want to seem desperate, now did
she? Shaking her auburn hair back, she straightened herself and cleared her throat. Calm, she swung the door open.
Dante Stein stood there, looking so handsome in his simple black shirt and gray jeans. He flashed his pearly whites through that dreamy crooked smile and produced the most pristine single pink rose from behind his back.
Simple gifts were a constant thing, but unable to help it, she smiled and blushed so much that her cheeks began to burn. Giggling, she took the rose. “Thank you, sir,” she said cutely, the way she knew he liked.
He chuckled and took her hand. “No problem, ma’am. Let’s go.”
She closed the door behind her and, together, they walked down the steps to his red Dodge Charger. Once inside, Suzette pulled down the visor and looked into the mirror, making sure she looked good for her man. Her hair seemed too flat so she tried to fluff it up a little, but it was no use.
Dante laughed a bit.
Surprised, she turned to him.
He grinned, his body turned to peer out the back window. “You look very pretty,” he said, answering her silent question.
She leaned back into her seat, grinning. “Thanks, Hot Stuff.”
He blushed a little and laughed before shaking it off. “So, how’s college treating you? First year must be a bit crazy.”
“Oh, fine, I guess,” she sighed, staring at the dashboard. “I have my first essay due in my science class.”
“What on?” he wondered.
Suzette scrunched her face, dreading the mere thought. “The teacher gave me genetic engineering,” she grumbled, folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, that’s easy!” he encouraged her. “That lab is only about an hour away! You could call up and ask if you can interview one of the scientists. Frankie works there, remember? He’ll practically write the report for you.”
She pondered the option of calling Dante’s scientist brother. She had never really spoke to him—had never known how to. It was difficult to talk to someone who didn’t like you. But after a moment, she nodded, mainly to make Dante happy. “Yeah, I guess so.” But it was time to change the subject away from crappy school. “So, how’s it going at the station?”
Blind World (The Onyx Fox Saga Book 1) Page 2