John Karr - Detonation Event

“Secure helmet or entrance will be denied.”

He enjoyed the fact he could override all of this with the codes in his biological brain and the artificial memory banks also implanted there.

He placed the clear helmet over his head. A press of a button on the forearm computer and the seal curled over the joint. Air was already flowing throughout the suit from the light-duty plastic tanks on his back.

“Suit complete. Prepare for sanitize.”

Jets of white vapor shot forth from the floor, ceiling, and walls. A moment later it was gone, vented and dispersed to outer space.

“Entrance to lab permitted.”

He had selected those words purposefully as well. Dr. Wagner asked him every few weeks if they could tone it down a bit, and every few weeks he rejected her request. What he really needed was a manager of these lab mice examiners; that way he wouldn’t have to interact with them so often. Then again, the team was small. He’d never be able to justify another administrator unless the lab discovered something of worth.

The flashing red warning light continued to flash as two sets of airtight doors slid aside.

Schiflet strode into the lab like he owned it.

“Uh-oh, KWag. Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

Karen Wagner’s gloved hand moved in a slow semicircle back and forth, rotating the microscope’s holographic display as she searched for something in the DNA strand of the white blood cell sample.

“Karen…”

“Mmm?”

She turned to her lab assistants, who nodded toward the lab entrance and the transparent walls. Karen squinted and blinked her large eyes. In the changing area of the sanitize tube was their boss, in his underwear, hanging up a tuxedo. “Yeah, that’s my fault.”

“Masochist,” Kiley accused.

“I thought he could share some of our preliminary findings with the deputy director tonight.”

Kiley rolled her eyes and Terrill shook his head inside the helmet.

“Your responses are noted,” Karen said. “But it could help us out, budget-wise.”

“Funny how when you say ‘help us out,’ I hear ‘help his career.’” Kiley’s lips pursed as if she had encountered a sour taste.

“Definitely,” Terrill said, his upper body swaying back and forth for effect.

Karen smiled. “Hope that bootlegged conversation cloaker is working.”

“Better be—we paid good money for that thing,” Kiley said. “Cousin Leto got two new cyber games and a year’s supply of milk shakes from Galactic Ice King.”

“He’s what, twelve?”

“Freakin’ boy genius.”

Karen laughed.

“So why help Schiflet out any more than you have to?” Terrill said, sliding a sample tray beside Karen’s electron microscope.

“You’re the one who keeps this place running, Karen,” Kiley added. “He just sits back and tweaks your reports.”

“The interest might be enough to loosen up some funds. Hey, maybe we’ll get some budget money for coffee,” Karen said.

“Stellar,” Terrill said, raising a brow.

“Stellar,” Kiley echoed.

“Dial it down now, kids,” Karen said. “He’s got a job to do, too.”

“Better for all us if you were doing it.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t do retro. No more headaches from running a division, even a small one up here on the moon. I’m fine with my science, thank you.”

“One minute to Schiflet. Uh, we’re going to fade into the transparent woodwork now.”

“Mmm hmm.” Karen Wagner touched the sides of the hologram projected from the atomic microscope on the countertop. She frowned as a shape escaped from view, then her eyes widened as she saw it, the microbe itself, attaching to the bone marrow tissue responsible for white blood cell manufacture. The new cells formed and streamed forth into the plasma, looking for invaders to repel.

Her words came with excitement. “Record lab notes entry. Insert date and time. Observation: Microbe M274S34 has triggered host brain to increase white blood cell manufacture… almost like leukemia… but unlike with the blood cancer, the new cells appear larger but not misshapen. Increase magnification. Measure point A to B.” She isolated three white blood cells and poked at their dimensions. “Note to measure white blood cells in control group for comparison. Injecting blood bot to relay visual of these in a subject mouse.”

She manipulated the hand controls of the hologram. Inside the cage, robotic arms emulated her movements. A delicate hand darted for a scrambling mouse and held it aloft. The other hand provided a platform for the rodent and it calmed down. She blinked for a drop-down activity menu, visually scrolled through selections, then double blinked.

Inside the console beside the cage, a microscopic robot dropped into a syringe, along with a cubic centimeter of saline. She tested the video feed, noted the saline solution inside the syringe was displayed on the hologram in good order. She blinked at the go button. The thin syringe moved quickly and precisely for the mouse, targeting the pinched skin of the upper back. The mouse hardly twitched, and then the needle receded into the console. She lowered the mouse gently to the cage floor. It scampered to the corner, casting about for more threats and doubtless outraged at the injustice. She placed a nugget of food before it, which it ignored until its whiskers began twitching; then it pounced upon the offering.

“Dr. Wagner?”

She held up a forefinger. “Micro bot is now flowing through the bloodstream. Begin recording video and relay feed to holo. End recorded verbal entry.” She lowered her arm and turned to the new arrival. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked a question.”

“I did not hear you, Paton.”

“Perhaps you didn’t want to hear me. I wonder which it is? Puzzling how you made it through advanced schooling and twenty years in the genetics field.”

Karen blinked. “You mean without trampling co-workers and subordinates in a perpetual power grab?”

“Perhaps one of your underlings shuddering in the corner would enjoy a promotion to a lead researcher position?”

“Dunno. Why don’t you ask them?”

Wagner’s assistants walked behind Schiflet carrying trays of blood and tissue samples. Kiley widened her large eyes to horror-movie size, and Terrill shook his head and made a face like he smelled something offensive, impossible in the climate-controlled protection suits but notable for effect. Karen Wagner wanted to laugh, but she settled on an arched brow and a hint of a smile at their daring. Of course Schiflet would review the lab video as soon as he made it back to his office.

“Wasn’t the demotion to this mundane lunar lab enough of a warning for you, Dr. Wagner?” he said.

Schiflet playing Schiflet games. “Scan those memory banks again, Paton. I asked for this transfer. Lab work is my calling, not pushing admin reports up and down the bureaucratic chain of command. And the cut in pay was offset by the risk compensation working on the moon. Life among the stars is amazing, and I’m closer to my kids up here.”

“Brent and Bren, I believe?”

“Trent and Gwen, but close enough after two years.”

“They are on MOS-1 and 2 around Mars. Not exactly an hour’s drive.”

“No, but at least we’re all linked in space. And the orbiters are starting to pull back for Detonation Event. They’ll be within easy shuttle distance in two weeks. Which, by the way, you haven’t approved my leave request to go see them.”

“Not so many big discoveries here in the lab, hmm? We’ve studied Martian air and soil for the last two years. New samples arrive almost every other week via drone shuttle. Aside from microbes, they have yielded very little excitement.” Schiflet smiled. “Don’t you tire of the mundane routine?”