Foundation

by M J Kendrick

  It was just before seven.

  “You’ve got that right. My head was spinning all night, thought I’d get an early start—well, an even earlier start than usual, I should say.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, nodding. “Same here, plus I wanted to catch you before the others arrive. How exactly are we going to play this with them?”

  Daniel sighed and looked up from the packing crate that was now in several pieces strewn across the lab floor.

  “Yes, it’s been worrying me too. The last thing we want is to create an atmosphere in here. I think we best just say that there was some sort of screw up with the last test, and we’re in the firing line. That would tie in with us having to re-examine the batch and also explains us asking about Susan’s compound mix.”

  “I can see how that would work, except no one ever screws up around here.”

  Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “All the more reason why Jean would pull us aside.

  “Actually, it fits together well. I hate the thought of lying to the girls, but remember what Jean said.”

  “Okay, but let’s not overplay it. It’ll only lead to more questions.”

  “All right, hopefully we can get this out of the way before Jean gets in. That’s providing she doesn’t get here before them. If they walk in and see the three of us together, it’ll only add to the suspicion,” Melanie said.

  “That’s not going to happen. Jean called me at home last night. She isn’t coming in today or tomorrow. She’s flying up to DC with the results. I’m to say she has a bout of morning sickness and needs rest. It’s plausible, and I think the girls will accept it. In the meantime, we’re to carry on with our instructions.”

  Melanie buttoned up her lab coat and stepped over the strewn packaging. “All right then, we have a plan. That makes me feel better.”

  She looked around the floor at the thick cardboard packing that had been held together with thick metal staples, clearly happy at not having had to risk her nails. “Glad you’ve dealt with the packing crate. Now it’s my turn to get busy. Help me lift this sucker over to the bench; it’s going to be heavy and we definitely don’t want to knock it.”

  “Where do you want me?” Daniel asked.

  It took over an hour to move and position the new scope. They were both still on hands and knees gathering up the last pieces of packing straw that flew everywhere during the un-crating when the rest of the team turned up.

  “Whoooa, did we miss the party?” asked Julia.

  “What’s all this?” added Beatrice.

  Melanie looked up and, protruding her bottom lip, she blew her now disheveled brown hair off from across her face. “It’s the new prototype electron microscope. We’ve been setting it up. Boss’s orders.”

  “Has this anything to do with yesterday?” asked Susan.

  Melanie saw the way her friend’s mouth tightened worriedly and guessed she was asking because questions had been asked about her compound. She saw it as the opportunity to get the ruse out of the way.

  “Sort of,” she said. “We... er... ever so slightly messed up the last test and set things back a bit. Jean was really pissed off, so we have to up the test parameters to avoid it happening again, hence this new scope. She wants the additional monitoring and the 3D capability it offers to be a standard part of the initialization/re-initialization process.”

  “So you’ve been a bit of a naughty boy, then,” Beatrice said mockingly as she looked at Daniel through exaggerated, raised eyebrows.

  “Yup, the buck definitely stopped here. Nothing we can’t sort, though. It just means we’re stuck on this for a bit until we can get back on schedule and into Jean’s good books.”

  “Where is Jean?” asked Susan looking around.

  “We’ve a reprieve. She’s not coming in today, morning sickness,” replied Melanie keeping her answers as short as possible.

  The girls sighed, coming over all maternal in unison. It was as if some unspoken, deep-rooted, female, instinctual understanding and acceptance had mysteriously swept over them. They all turned and headed toward their respective workstations to go about the day’s business.

  Daniel, who looked like he was hiding behind the huge armful of wood and cardboard packing strips that he had been holding, gave a short, knowing glance toward Melanie, which she briefly met in silent confirmation. They’d gotten away with it.

  Chapter Six

  Jean’s two-day whirlwind trip to the Omni headquarters in DC was both stressful and exhilarating. She had been immediately summoned to present her findings to the now very excited board, as she had fully expected. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the packed timetable of other briefings and presentations that had mysteriously appeared on her agenda between taking off and landing.

  Downloading her updated and crammed schedule had drawn a groan. She’d had to rush her preparations for the trip and, between packing and sorting the files she needed, hadn’t really had the time to say goodbye. Plus, she had already felt a little guilty at brushing off David’s news about the latest appointments he’d made to his growing team.

  By the time she had returned home from the trip, she had the feeling of being well and truly put through the wringer, having endured an endless bombardment of enthusiastic questions that had been fired at her from all directions during each meeting and beyond. She had heard of a few of the Omni board members by name but, like most of the scientists at ACR and probably the farm, had never seen them—they were all senior people, shrewd and exacting, even a little intimidating at times. But what had surprised her most was the board’s interest in her relationship with David and his work.

  Omni’s head of security, Oliver Bryson, had casually asked the questions, but she felt sure it was the quiet board member, a Mr. Leon Whittaker, who was always by his side, who was really the one asking.

  She wasn’t sure about him. There was something about him that unnerved her.

  At the final briefing, just before she had to leave for the airport to return home, she was given the go-ahead to channel all available resources into progressing to the next phase, which would involve a live, organic test subject, and, despite her efforts to take the research forward at a composed pace, she was overwhelmingly out-gunned.

  She understood the board’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t help but worry about accelerating the testing program. In the end, she had to remind herself that for all intents and purposes, and despite being a seriously well-connected organization, Omni was a private enterprise, and even though the organization was somehow afforded special privileges, its primary goal had always been to forward science for commercial gain. Both she and David had known that when they’d first joined, and she didn’t hide the fact that it was her own selfish ambition to be the best in her field that had attracted her to the position—especially with the money Omni was throwing at research projects like hers, so she was more than happy to go along with it, even knowing Omni would naturally push for results.

  On the positive side, though, she was given the green light to inform her team and bring them up to speed, but only after the independent audit and verification team had confirmed the results. They would be joining her team in the following month under the pretense of a standard progress audit.

  At least it would give her a chance to complete all of the comparison tests and have the results ready and waiting. She didn’t really want the verification guys to be hanging around her lab any longer than was needed, although she knew it was necessary. Either way, it would almost certainly mean disruption and awkward questions, but be that as it may, she was still in the driver’s seat and had been assured that not only would that remain the case but that her role and status would be enhanced to reflect the high priority this had now been given. The project was very much her baby and would remain so. She would always retain total control and responsibility over the project.

  She, too, was also gently reminded of the need for secrecy, but it wasn’t until she was made aware
of the monetary value of her research and the advancements it would give to other companies if her research fell into their hands that she understood how critical her work truly was.

  ***

  It was Friday morning, and everyone in the cryo lab had made an eager start in the hope that they could each finish up their assignments on time to make the most of a full weekend.

  “I wonder if Jean will make it in today. Poor thing, I hope everything’s okay and she’s not having too rough a time of it,” said Julia.

  “I will and I am,” announced Jean as she breezed into the lab, having overheard Julia’s concern.

  “Yeahhhh! Hi,” piped up Susan with a smile as she cheerily clapped her hands. “You made it. How are you feeling?”

  “Oooh,” exclaimed Beatrice as she saw the utterly exhausted look on Jean’s face, adding, “That bad, was it?”

  Daniel was standing just behind Melanie.

  “Must’ve been a tough trip,” he whispered under his breath.

  Melanie expertly and swiftly gave him a short, sharp elbow in the stomach. Luckily, his reactive twitch and muffled groan went unnoticed.

  “I’m fine, really, just a little tired,” said Jean as she made her way over to her desk. “How’s everyone?” she asked.

  She set about switching on her PC and pulling out files from her bag, her matter-of-fact demeanor hopefully reflecting normality.

  “Oh, we’re all just fine,” said Daniel.

  “That’s good to hear. How’s the new scope doing? Is it installed yet?”

  The fact that Jean was straight down to business settled the team. This was quite normal, and they returned to their tasks and odd little chit chats that, although ever-present, were always quiet and short and never bothered the close-knit team.

  “Not only is it up and running, but the calibration is well underway and should be completed later this afternoon,” Daniel said proudly.

  “Excellent,” said Jean. Melanie had texted her with the all clear about the ruse so she felt fine about openly talking about the re-test plan.

  “Do you think we’ll be in a position to run the full fusion program before the end of the day?” she asked.

  Daniel was nodding as she spoke. “Well, as soon as the calibration program is completed, we will certainly be able to do the dry run to ensure the new setup is operating and recording and that all of the fields are in sync. The full program run will depend on that. Fingers crossed there won’t be any hiccups, so, on the face of it, I would say if everything checks out, we may be able to initiate the retest proper before we leave today.”

  “All right,” she said, turning back to her screen, “just keep a close eye on it for me, will you? I want the run to start at the earliest opportunity.”

  “Will do, boss,” said Daniel enthusiastically as he scooted his chair in closer to his desk to continue typing figures onto the spreadsheet that he had been working on when Jean had arrived.

  The calibration was completed by early afternoon, and the dry run had performed well, with no glitches detected. They had all been impressed with the picture-in-picture data display that now overlaid the live, 3D, crystal-clear, high-definition view.

  By six that evening, Melanie and Daniel had only just started to set up the equipment to run the re-fusion of batch HSP34d1, when all but Susan and Jean had left for the weekend.

  Susan was just hovering around her desk when the lab door swung open to reveal her fiancé, Simon. She had been waiting for him to finish work so they could both leave together.

  “Hi, Jean,” he said as he entered and scooped up Susan’s bag. “You ready?”

  Jean was smiling and said, “Aah, young love.”

  Susan, clearly eager to leave, just smiled and slipped her hand into Simon’s. Skipping toward the door, she glanced back over her shoulder and cheekily began raising her eyebrows rapidly up and down singing, “Byeeeeee,” and they disappeared out of the lab, leaving little speculation as to their plans for the weekend.

  Jean had joined Daniel and Melanie in the fusion test area, which was located behind the glass wall that ran along the length of the lab so that it could be in full view for everyone no matter where their workstation was positioned. Jean and Daniel both had the central, most forward views from their desks, whilst Melanie was behind and closer to the door.

  “How are we doing?” she asked.

  Melanie was making an adjustment with a precision screwdriver to one of the support struts that seated the glass compound container.

  “Should be done in about ten,” she said.

  “Great,” said Jean, happy that things were in order. “I’ll grab us some coffees, then I’ll bring you up to speed.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were all sitting around Jean’s desk fully updated. The test had been started and was running smoothly.

  They were all glued to the large monitor, which, although moveable, was permanently located at eye level on the glass wall in front of Jean’s desk.

  They watched intently as the minutes ticked by. The chronometer was registering time in thousandths of a second, and as it reached the 420-second mark, the HD image showed the exact moment the HSP cells initialized into their cryo state.

  “Wow,” said Daniel, “will you just look at that! We’ll get a ton of data from this.”

  Jean nodded. “That is brilliantly quick. But freezing the cells is not new. It’s the viable thawing that has the world stumped—unless you’re a frog, that is.”

  Melanie nodded, and with a smile said, “Did they give you any indication what the end use will be when you were up at Omni?” just as Daniel muttered, “Ribbet, ribbet.”

  Jean giggled. “Definitely bound for the medical sector. That’s where the money is. I’m sure the space program will feature somewhere down the line, but with NASA not doing much for the foreseeable future, it’ll be private sector stuff, and they’re nowhere near ready yet.”

  She glanced at the monitor. “Not much to do now, well, for the next twenty-four hours at least. I plan to be here when the wind-down program kicks in. I want to directly observe the process start.”

  Melanie looked up. “Could be a long one, Jean. We’ve still not been able to narrow down the time window of the actual re-initialization.”

  “I realize that, but I’ve been poring over and over the results and playing around with the data that we have so far, and I think that buried in there somewhere is our answer. We may have found the catalyst point that might well surprise us all with the re-initialization time. It’s either that, or some of the data is wrong, in which case you can bring me lunch on Sunday as I’ll still be here!”

  “Let’s hope you’re right. Anyway, I’ll be joining you—can’t let you have all the fun,” said Daniel with a smile.

  “Me too,” added Melanie. “I’m on my own this weekend. John is on a layover in France and won’t fly back until late Monday. Besides, I’m just as curious as you. In any case, if you are right, then we shouldn’t be that late.”

  As a Delta Airlines pilot, Melanie’s husband was often away, and, in truth, she was glad of something to do.

  They were all back in the lab at 6 p.m. the following day. ACR was eerily quiet with only a skeleton staff working over the weekend.

  Melanie had prepared an office picnic, which she had spread out on Daniel’s desk, much to his delight. Accepting coffee in a paper cup which Melanie poured from a large flask, Jean said, “About thirty-six minutes left to run.”

  Daniel and Melanie both instinctively looked at the monitor, even knowing that nothing would be happening for a while at least. Only the chronometer showed any change as the numbers flashed up at illegible speeds over the unchanging image.

  They snacked and lightly picked at Melanie’s picnic, which was definitely going down a treat with Daniel, who was making no attempt to hide his hunger as he woofed down his fourth sausage roll. They were all jovially talking about Jean and David’s plans for the baby as the time slowly ticked away. />
  A short double note quietly sounded from Daniel’s PC, indicating the commencement of the wind-down program.

  In a mere fraction of a second, they had all pushed their empty cups, napkins, and uneaten food to one side and moved to directly face the monitor.

  The chronometer continued flashing numbers but was no longer alone in its readout as the thermal scales all started to show the steadily rising temperature. They watched in silence, totally absorbed in what was before them.

  After sixty minutes, the temperature had reached zero degrees. Jean leaned back and rubbed the back of her neck to loosen the knotted muscles. As if triggering a subconscious reflex action, both Melanie and Daniel also began stretching and moving. They all giggled. Melanie gave a little yawn.

  “Now see what you’ve started. Who’s for some more coffee?” She stood, grabbed the flask, and refilled their cups before returning to join the mesmerizing thermal count still flicking ever upward on the screen.

  Several yawns and stretches later, the temperature was climbing to plus 3.25 degrees. It had been ninety-five minutes since zero degrees was achieved. All of a sudden, the image of the cell walls showed an almost imperceptible, momentary undulation before the image stabilized again.

  “Did you see that?” said Daniel.

  “I most certainly did,” replied Jean, her gaze unwavering.

  “There it is again,” said Melanie, pointing to the lower left of the image.

  “And there,” added Jean. This time, the pointing to the upper left of the monitor.

  Then, as if by magic, the whole screen almost exploded with movement as the re-initialization process took hold and started a chain reaction.

  Daniel’s PC bleeped the two quiet tones signaling the re-initialization had completed its cycle, followed by a long beep and three dotted pips announcing the commencement of the wind-down program.

  Jean slumped back in her chair and blew out an exasperated gasp.

  “Phew! That’s it then. A little over two and a half hours! Even I have to admit that is quicker than I expected.”