Tina Chan - imperfect

“Well, we’re running out of time and options. Distract this guy for me, will you?”

“Wait, what?”

Kristi gave Chelsa a small shove into the path of the scientist, hissing, “Just do it.”

Another man wheeling a cart came their way. There were two dog carriers stacked on his cart. One was empty and the other had a blanket thrown over it, preventing Kristi from seeing the inside of the crate.

“Sir,” Chelsa called out to the man. “Can you please direct me to the right direction of the West Wing? And also, can you come over here for a minute please? I have a problem with my electro-slate.”

The scientist walked over to Chelsa. Kristi made sure he was engaged with a conversation with Chelsa then scurried over to the blanket-covered dog crate and unlatched the door. A sleeping Labrador occupied the crate. The dog must’ve been doped up because it didn’t give the slightest hint of activity when Kristi nudged him.

“Can you re-cover the blanket over the entrance of this dog carrier after I get in?” she asked Troop.

Troop looked like he was about to argue with her, but she was already sliding herself into the cramped space. Kristi held the door closed and signaled for Troop to hurry up and reposition the blanket back to its original position. She heard Troop step away just as she felt the cart start to move.

At first, Kristi pressed herself far away from the snoozing dog in case it suddenly awoke. After a few minutes though, she gradually relaxed her guard around the animal; the dog was so out of it she wouldn’t have guessed it was alive except for the fact it was breathing shallow breaths. Good thing I’m not allergic to dogs else I’m screwed.

Kristi bit her bottom lip and tried to figure out how she was going to get out the dog crate without being detected. Now that she thought about it, her actions had been impulsive and rash. You got yourself into this, she told herself. Now you have to get yourself out of it.

The movement of the cart came to a stop and she heard a voice demand the man pushing the cart for a fingerprint scan and ID verification. A few seconds later, the cart jolted forward once more.

“What do you have there, Kenny?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Just subject 76,” the guy named Kenny replied. “Marilyn requested a dog to be tested for the hair thickener genetic tweaks. Research data suggests doubling the amount of thymine in section F of chromosome 19 increases the rate follicles reproduce their cells. As you know, thick hair is all the rage right now, so this new discovery could lead to some serious profits.”

“Didn’t Marilyn just try decreasing the amount of cytosine in section F of chromosome 19 a week ago in order to produce thicker hair in subject 56?” the woman asked.

“Yes. However, the hair grew too uncontrollably and took up most of the nutrients subject 56 was consuming in order to grow and maintain. As a result, subject 56 became extremely malnourished and died three days ago.”

“Do you have time for me to show you the latest results in Lab H?”

“Yeah,” Kenny said. “I just have to transfer subject 76 into Holding Room 3. I’ll meet you in Lab H in a few minutes, alright?”

“Sounds good.”

Kenny pushed the cart once more. Then the movement eventually halted and Kristi heard Kenny walk away. She felt her stomach unclench from tension; she had been afraid Kenny would check on subject 76 (the dog) and discover her hitchhiking.

Kristi listened to her surroundings. It was deathly quiet. However, the air smelled of animals. She pushed open the gate of the dog crate and crawled outside; then she latched the entrance of subject 76’s carrier shut and absorbed the details of her environment.

Holding Room 3 was filled with cages with blankets draped over them. Aside from her and the sedated animals snoozing in their prisons, the room was empty.

Kristi patted her pockets and located the micro-fiber sponges stashed in there. She slunk out of Holding Room 3 and pretended to clean a tinted window in the hallway while she waited for Chelsa and Troop to arrive. After several minutes, Kristi tucked the micro-fiber cloth back into her pocket and set off to explore the East Wing for a bit.

Her first room to check out was Lab E. Lab E was by far the biggest lab Kristi had ever been in. The lab could’ve easily held five hundred people; as of right then, roughly fifty people milled about in it. What really grabbed her attention, though, was the abnormality of the animals being housed in the room.

As with several of the other rooms Kristi had visited in New Genes Lab, animal cages took up a good portion of the lab. The majority of the animals housed in Lab E were primates with a few canines, horses and colorful, tropical birds sprinkled here and there; they all either looked wrong or acted wrong .

The chimpanzee to the far right of the room had gold fur. The pony fast asleep beside the golden chimpanzee stood on unnaturally long legs. An orangutan across the room curled its lips at Kristi and her eyes snapped wide open when she realized the eyes of the orangutan were a shocking violet color; she was pretty sure normal orangutans didn’t have purple eyes.

“Ah-hem.”

Kristi jumped at the noise coming from behind her. An intelligent looking man with a slightly drooping mustache towered over her. He crossed his arms and a disapproving expression etched into his face.

“Are you lost?” he asked.

“No—no I know where I am. I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. I’ll be off to clean the windows now.” She held up her micro-fiber sponges to show that she was here to clean the lab windows.

Kristi ambled over to a window beside a cage holding a bird whistling a simple tune. She wiped the sponge left-to-right on the glass. A few moments passed and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that eyes were boring into her back. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder.

A woman in a white lab coat observed her work; at the same time, she was listening half-heartedly to the man who had just spoken to Kristi. The woman caught Kristi staring back at her and gave a smile. The smile the woman flashed her sent shivers running down her spine; although the smile seemed friendly on the surface, there was something sinister about it. Kristi desperately wished Chelsa and Troop were beside her.

Troop watched a gaggle of scientist stride by him and Chelsa. He checked his watch; three minutes since he last saw Kristi being wheeled away—God, it felt like three hours though.

“Any brilliant ideas on how to get into the East Wing?” Chelsa asked.

Troop shrugged.

A man in a rumpled lab coat came barreling down the hallway. A stack of electro-slates tittered precariously in his arms.

“Careful there,” Troop said. “There’s a person in front—”

Wham!

“Too late,” muttered Chelsa.

The untidy looking man rammed into another man pushing an empty cart. The electro-slates flew into the air rained down onto the ground.

“Aw, crap,” said the man who was carrying the electro-slates

“I see that you’re in a rush as usual,” the disgruntled cart-pusher said.

“I’m going to be late for my meeting.” The man knelt down to examine the dropped slate closest to him. “Thank goodness the glass isn’t cracked. So glad the lab ordered reinforced glass for these slates.”

“Watch where you’re going next time, alright?” The other man booted a couple electro-slates out of his path. “The lab just got a new shipment of supplies, so there’s a lot of traffic transporting the stuff from the holding room.”

“Yeah, yeah.”