Can we use microinjection to transfer the recombinant DNA into the embryo nuclei?
I blinked. Not a word of that made sense to me. Further down, more bullet points posed questions,
Somatic cell nuclear transfer?
Gene-targeted zinc-finger nucleases?
The further down the page, the more detailed the notes became, with answers to the questions scribbled across margins. I flipped through more pages, the diagrams becoming more complex. Whatever Eli had been working on, it was well beyond the research he’d been doing before he was kidnapped. Not to mention well beyond my ability to comprehend it. A lot of the pages had boxes outlined at the top with a note:
See Report A9 /B7/F5
I looked up from the notebook, scanning around the lab to see if I could find any obvious places to keep reports. Mostly, I just saw my face reflected and mutated in the various different surfaces. I sighed and kept turning pages in Eli’s notebook. Towards the back, another block of pages were separated from the rest, these ones entitled ‘Nessie’.
Nessie?
Way to theme your weird research to Scotland, Eli.
As I went to turn the page, a huge wave crashed into the glass wall, the sound reverberating around the lab. I jumped, dropping the notebook on the floor, briefly wondering if I should close the sliding wall in case the storm caused the glass to break. Jumping down off of the stool, I made my way back over to the panel. As I went to press the button, I paused, my eyes drawn to another oddly-shaped piece of cave directly underneath the first panel. Running my fingers over it, I quickly found a latch and flipped the cover up, revealing another panel of buttons. These ones had symbols drawn on them. The first was three semi circles, one on top of the other, like part of a Wi-fi symbol. The second showed a cluster of fish and the third was a skull. I frowned, trying to figure out what they could be. My fingers hovered over all three, hesitating. I needed some idea of what was going on here, but I didn’t want to press unknown buttons, especially ones with skulls on.
Drawing in a breath, I quickly pressed the one with the fish on before I could change my mind. In front of me, in the Loch, a hatch opened and a bunch of fish were propelled into the water on a cloud of bubbles. They floated in front of the glass, the iridescent silver of their scales sparkling even through the thick wall of glass. I waited a couple of seconds, to see if anything else happened. It didn’t. Shrugging, I turned away from the panels. Something in here must be able to tell me where GAI went. The only place I hadn’t walked through yet was the far side of the room which was mostly in shadow. Most of the tables were also bare, though you could make out the dust patterns of pieces of equipment that had been on them until recently.
At the far end of the wall, almost hidden behind a craggy outcropping were storage containers. They all opened easily, and I was relieved to see they actually had something in them. The first container was full of plastic boxes containing the same syringes I’d found in the warehouse. At the bottom there were crates of tubing and Petri dishes scattered haphazardly. Strange, but nothing that could help me. The second storage container’s lid was wedged shut by a small piece of the cave wall that pressed down onto it. Grabbing the sides, I jostled the container until it moved out from its place, flush against the wall before opening it up, crossing my fingers for more than just Petri dishes. I was in luck. This container seemed to be full of filing boxes; I began pulling them out and dumping them on a nearby desk until I reached the bottom of the container. Three piles of filing boxes waited on the desk, each pile nearly six boxes high.
This might take a while.
Grabbing another stool, I pulled down the first filing box, surprised at how light it felt. They didn’t seem to have any kind of organisation system on the side but as soon as I opened it, I realised why. The first three boxes only held a single of paper, each a different article about GAI, the same ones I had seen on the internet. From the dented seams of the boxes, I knew there had been more paper in here, but it seemed they had taken it with them before they had left the lab. My shoulders slumped.
This might be nothing but another dead end after all.
Half-heartedly, I tugged open the fourth box, expecting to see only a single piece of paper; instead I was greeted by a half-filled box. On the very top piece of paper was a Post-It note; my heart jumped as I recognised Eli’s writing again.
Transgenic Animal Case Studies Part 1
Pulling off the Post-It and sticking it to the table, I began to rifle through the rest of the box. Some were printed articles and others were typed reports. One title jumped out at me, ‘Beltsville Pigs’, so I slid that piece out from the rest and brought it to the table in front of me. Most of the report was in note form, but I was pretty sure Eli had written it; it read the same as his notebooks.
Beltsville Pigs – possible area of initial research. Pigs given human growth hormone to accelerate their growth which was successful however this led to humanoid diseases – arthritis, partial blindness and ulcers. Look at finding an animal-based growth accelerant for subjects?
Should be noted that researchers tried to use the same hormone in fish growth acceleration with less side effects – could this be mammalian only? Would avoid the human-animal chimaera so not technically breaking any laws.
I could understand most of it, hypothetically, but I had no idea what pigs had to do with Eli. The next report seemed be only notes, no references made to outside research as far as I could tell.
Odontocetes have no fused neck vertebrae – could this be used to give the movement to the Test Subject that has previously been an issue? Focus on Beluga initially as they have 180-degree sensitivity underwater which would make it easy to train them to respond to the stimuli. Cons – Beluga melon is not a good acoustic receiver so this may become problematic over longer distances and leave room for error.
Where the hell had Belugas come from? The rest of the pile of reports all seemed to look at different animals with Eli’s notes outlining the pros and cons of each. Nothing in the reports gave any indication of where the research had moved to. I pushed the stack away, wondering if I should try a different approach. Leaving the rest of the piles on the table, I started another lap of the room, keeping close to the wall to try and see if there were any more panels like the one by the glass wall. Just to the left of the door I had come in through, the cave wall petered out into a smooth, almost shiny, area. I ran my hands across it, waiting for the tell-tale feel of a panel cover. Sure enough, my fingers brushed over a small latch and, with a triumphant smile, I flipped it open. This panel only had one button, the kind that you had in lifts to open the doors. Looking along the smooth area of the wall, I realised a line ran down the middle, almost like a seam.
Maybe I’ll have more luck in there.
Running back to my bag, I grabbed the torch, thankful it hadn’t run out of batteries yet, then moved back to the panel. Closing my eyes, I pushed the button. A tiny hiss came from behind the panel before the wall began clicking and whirring. As I watched, torch in hand, the seam split and moved outwards. Once they had stopped moving, I peered into the darkness. There was a definite smell coming from the room, a sawdust kind of musk and I wrinkled my nose as I stood at the entrance. The torch beam illuminated the ground in front of me, enough to see another set of stairs leading even further down into the ground.
I really hope this isn’t some Indiana Jones shit where the door shuts as soon as I walk through.
I stepped over the doorway and onto the wobbly metal steps that led down into darkness.
Chapter 8
The first thing I noticed was the humidity. Everything around me was sticky, the air clinging to my skin and invading my nostrils. It made the smell I’d clocked at the doorway ten times worse. Down here, mixed with the sawdust, I could smell something sweet and cloying mixed with the smell cow pats. Wrinkling my nose, I held a palm over my face as I continued forward. Once I’d reached the bottom of the stairs, I had tried to find the wall, hopin
g I would also find a light switch. So far it seemed as though the wall stretched on indefinitely. I took hesitant, shuffling steps forward, my feet brushing across some kind of sediment that seemed to coat the floor. From the beam of the torch it just looked like a film, knocked aside in trails. The further into the room I edged, the more the air seemed to press down on me.
Shffff.
I froze, the torch wobbling slightly in my hand.
Did… did something just move?
The silence seemed to stretch around me, my ears and eyes disorientated by the almost pitch black. After another couple of seconds, I heard the sound again.
Shfff.
A squeak tried to claw its way up my throat as my heart hammered against my ribcage. Something was in here with me.
I really hope it’s in a cage.
The room lapsed into a heavy silence again. I took a few more steps forward, waiting for my hand or leg to brush up against whatever was in here. I couldn’t get my bearing at all, the only meagre light coming from the open doorway up the stairs and my tiny torch. Whatever had been making the sound remained quiet; I was sure it was listening to the staccato of my heartbeat. I dragged in a lungful of air, trying to calm my shaking hands and, before I could back out, swung the torch beam up and away from the floor. Flashes of metal illuminated under the direct beam; they filtered across the back wall. As I stopped swinging the beam about and focussed, I realised they were almost as thick as my forearm.
They look like prison bars… or cages.
The realisation dawned. I swung around, pointing the light behind me, back to the entrance and slowly panned across. The entire room was lined with cages, each one stretching up to the ceiling. I could barely see where one finished and the next one started, the only indication coming from the panels of metal that broke the bars in two. I kept turning, senses on high alert, waiting for my torch to land on a pair of eyes. It didn’t happen. From the swing of my torch I could see the room was a long rectangle, the cages taking up most of the space. In the centre of the room, just to the right of where I was standing was another hastily erected plywood box, about six foot tall and wide. My stomach tightened, flashing back to the industrial estate and the same sweet, cloying smell. I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to find another table covered in blood. Instead I stepped towards the nearest cage. Clipped to the bars was a whiteboard, the letters smeared in someone’s attempt to wipe away whatever had been written on there. I could make out the last few letters, neatly printed in blue marker.
CHI
The rest of the letters were indistinguishable and, without anything else, CHI could mean anything. Inside, the cage looked empty, but piles of something were stacked up on the floor. It didn’t take much of leap to realise that it was some kind of animal dung. Looking up, I could see multiple platforms suspended in mid-air, some with rotting fruit clinging on to the edges. The dung and the fruit made me think of bats but the platforms, and the cage, were far too big. Frowning, I moved along to the next cage. As the light swung over the bars, I caught a glimpse of something grey and soft. My heart leapt in my chest as I stilled the beam. It was definitely fur. I didn’t dare breathe, waiting for it to move, to leap at the bars. It was only when seconds passed, and I realised that maybe I should breathe before I passed out, that it became clear that whatever had been in there was dead. I leant closer to the bars, trying to stretch my light and gasped.
Curled on the floor was something unlike anything I had ever seen before. Its face was turned towards me, eyes vacant and milky. The snout and ears reminded me of a wolf, but the size and shape of the body more closely resembled a bear. Every inch of it was covered in fur, apart from its back which shone with the iridescence of scales, not dissimilar to the fish in the Loch. Nothing about it was natural, not even the position it was laying in, head thrown back at an angle seemingly detached from the body. This one had a whiteboard too, but no one had bothered to erase the notes on it. At the top of the whiteboard was a code,
POL214BCAR
Not viable. Showed signs of degeneration after its first two weeks. Accelerated growth caused partial internal organ failure. Developed secondary traits from recombinant DNA that were unexpected including venom and hibernation. Suggested termination.
Had they…had they made it? My mind scrambled as I tried to understand how that would even be possible. Eager to move along, I hurried to the next cage. This one was full of foliage, and rocks and in the middle was a large pool of water. Above the cage, a humidifier was humming, pumping out jets of warm air. I began to make my way to the whiteboard, part of me hoping it had been rubbed off so I didn’t have to find another dead… thing but the other part of me really wanted to know what the hell was going on. As I approached the cage, I heard the sound again.
Shfffff.
I paused, still a few feet from the whiteboard.
Please let that have come from inside the cage.
When it didn’t happen again, I shuffled forward until I was in front of the whiteboard. It wasn’t wiped out. A tiny ball of anxiety formed in the pit of my stomach. I was pretty sure that meant something was in here, whether it was dead or alive.
OTT103ACAR
Not viable. Most successful subject from litter but showed signs of being unsuitable after separation from litter mates. Made multiple attempts to socialise with the handlers displaying a need for comfort behaviour. No known secondary traits. Possible use as template for future subjects but would need to reduce the social need of the subject before implementing field tests.
At least they hadn’t suggested terminating this one; although, if it was still alive, they had basically left it for dead anyway.
Bastards.
I peered into the cage, taking in the small portion of slowly decomposing fish in a heap by the pool. A few heavy seconds ticked by as I waited to see if anything to see if anything would move, but it remained silent. Shrugging, and altogether relieved, I decided to move on.
Let’s just get out of whatever the hell this place is.
Shfffffff.
My shoes squeaked against the concrete floor as I spun back around, eyes frantically searching the space in front of me.
Nothing was moving.
As I turned away again to keep moving, the torch beam swept over the bottom corner near the whiteboard and I jumped back with a cry. A pair of yellow eyes watched me, barely a couple of feet from the ground. A few steps back I finally shuddered to a stop and took a couple of breaths.
It’s inside the cage. It’s not getting out. Breathe.
When my heart had dropped back into my chest, I moved the torch beam up, trying to ignore how violently it was shaking. As soon as the light settled over the pair of eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh. At the sound, the animal squeaked at me, revealing tiny canines. Slowly I moved closer, crouching down so I could get a better look. For all purposes, the creature in front of me looked like…an otter. He watched me, letting out tiny mewing sounds as I scanned over his body. He was a couple of feet long, with a broad tail and webbed feet. The only anomaly I could see was his colour; instead of the brown I was expecting, he had thick grey and white mottled fur. He seemed to wiggle, almost like a dog wagging his tail, as I leant even closer to the bars. It was only when he turned his head that I noticed the ridges running along the fur. As he took a breath in, they fluttered.
They’re gills.
So, he wasn’t just an otter. I felt my chest tighten as I looked at him, my eyes resting on the colour of his fur again, wondering what else had been done. He didn’t seem as affected as I was, sticking his wet nose through the bars and letting out a stream of chattering sounds. He seemed thrilled to see me. My thoughts drifted back to the whiteboard and the note that said he had attempted to socialise with his handlers.
“Hey…” I pushed aside the voice in my head that pointed out I was talking to an animal, “Hey little guy.” He pipped at me, a short sound that almost sounded like a responding greeting. His yellow eyes were
bright as he regarded me, “I bet you were lonely, huh? They left you, didn’t they? You poor thing.” Another pip and a chirp followed by some more chatter. I smiled despite myself, sitting down on the floor and crossing my legs. He followed suit, laying down on the dirt ground of his cage, never taking his eyes off of me. “What did they do to you?” He stuck his nose through the bars again, sniffing the air in front of me and blinked. Without thinking I stuck my hand out and stroked him on the nose. He let out a squeal, leaping up and running a couple of small circles before he came back to me and poked his nose through again. I laughed, tapping him gently on the nose, enjoying the way he wriggled as I did. When I stopped, he let out a loud squeak and shoved his nose as far through the cage bars as he could.
It’s like he’s communicating.
“What do you want?” I pitched my voice as though I was talking to a dog, using the up and down tone and leaning so close that our noses were almost touching. Really, I should have been getting out of this lab as quickly as I could, but, even if this little guy couldn’t help me find Eli, I couldn’t just walk away and leave him here. As I leant in, he let out a soft chirp, almost like a purr. “I think we need to give you a name.” I paused and he vigorously chattered, filling the otherwise silent air. “Okay! What about…Pip?” I said, thinking of the sounds he’d been making. There was a pause and then he began to make the exact sound I’d been referring too, wiggling about behind the bars.
Whoever left him here must have been completely heartless. Sounds about right.
As I sat there, I realised I couldn’t leave him locked up. I might not know exactly what he was, but he didn’t seem dangerous and he definitely didn’t deserve to live in this hell hole. “Right Pip, I think we need to figure out how to open this door. Do you agree?” He chirped and I nodded, getting up from my sitting position and scanning the room for any kind of electric system. The walls seemed bare but from my position I could see a window looking into the plywood room. It would make sense to have a control centre to operate the cages from. Hoping that I wasn’t about to see more nightmare fuel (or more so than I already had), I walked over and peered into the plexiglass window. It seemed that, unlike the one in the warehouse, this room was split into two. The window only overlooked part of it but, as I had guessed, it appeared to be a control room. Buttons stretched across a desk, each one with a code written underneath it. Feeling a surge of determination, I looked back over my shoulder to Pip’s cage,
Under Loch and Key Page 12