How to Lose a Bird

Chapter 7

    Vials of colored and clear liquid bubbled as the machines worked, going through all of the data that was being imputed. Multiple screens showing different amounts of information including heart rate, blood pressure, brain activity, and white blood cell counts were glowing around the small, dark room. Papers were crowded on any available surface, and a seemingly endless amount of coffee mugs were strewn about in seemingly random places.
    In the middle of all this chaos was a young boy and a middle aged man, separated by a thin wall of glass.
    The boy, who had ragged, blonde hair and tan, freckled skin, was attached to various medical instruments. He wore a stark white hospital gown, matching the walls that surrounded him. He was unconscious, and the only indication that he was alive was the constant beat of the heart monitor and the fogging in the oxygen mask.
    The man who stood on the other side of the glass was leaning on a desk, watching anxiously to see the boys reaction to his new prototype.
    So far, there had been no reaction, which was a good and bad sign. If there was no reaction, that meant that it either worked a little too well or it didn't have an affect on the boys brainwaves at all. This subject, however, was still the only one to last this long under the experiment, which meant he had made progress.
    Then, there was a spike in brain activity, and the scientist watched on eagerly. But he had gotten his hopes up too soon. 
    Soon after this spike, all brain activity ceased, and his heart rate dropped to fatal levels. Only seconds later, the boy flatlined, and the man sighed in exasperation.
    Another failed experiment. Another dead child on his conscience. Another attempt failed.
    He slammed his fists on the desk in anger, swiping off a mug in the process, its glass shards scattering across the floor.
    "Sir, what shall we do with the body?" another man asked as he opened the door to his office, letting luminescent light seep through into the dark chamber.
He had been watching the experiment while it was in progress, and there was a hint of sadness in his voice. Whether it was for the failure or another child's body, the lead scientist did not know.
Or, in all honesty, did he give a single damn.
    "Get rid of it, just like all the others." the man sighed, running his hands over his face.
    "Would you like us to continue to supply you with test subjects until he arrives?" the man in the doorway asked, and there was a moment of silence before the scientist answered. 
    "I suppose. Might as well get it right with the imperfections before testing it with the boy. After all, if it doesn't work with him, who has all of the qualifications I need, then it won't work with anyone."
"What is so special about him, anyway? Why is he the perfect one for your tests?"
At this, the scientist looked to the man with a blaze of fury burning behind his eyes. He already had to explain this numerous times to his few employees, who would constantly asked. This man asking, however, pushed him over the edge.
"I have studied this boy for years! His brain is a neurological masterpiece! He thinks in ways that few others do. He can solve problems in a way that no one can! This boy is the perfect candidate. He has all of the right qualifications, and shows the most promise when it comes to success rate!"
The scientist paused for a moment, considering the slightly fearful and suprised man standing before him, and continued his rant, albeit more calm than before.
"I need him in order to accomplish my goal. And if I succeed, I will revolutionize communication around the world! Everyone on Earth will be able to do things that were once only part of science fiction!" he had a joyfull gleam in his eyes, and it scared the man standing in the doorway beyond belief to see him switch emotions so swiftly.
The scientist then turned back to his desk, hastily removing a file from all of the clutter. He presented the papers to the other, and he hesitantly grabbed them from his hand.
"I do hope that your men will not disappoint me in the near future." with a malicious grin the scientist turned once again back to his desk, sitting down in his chair and resuming his notes on the failed test subject.
The doorway man took this as a sign to leave, and stepped out of the room while glancing at the folder in his hand. He paused, tentatively running his hand over the bright red 'R' in the center, before striding down the hall in false confidence towards his men that waited his orders down the hall.
"Get the team ready, we leave at midnight." he ordered, his men simotaniously saying 'yes, sir' before going to another door and promptly stepping out.
The man sighed. He was questioning why exactly he took this gig again.
Then, with a groan, he remembered.
His stupid ex-wife was forcing him to pay child support. And, instead of getting a part time job like most people, he signed up for this.
One of his poorest life decisions by far.