MMCX

Arya

I wrote on the clear board with my white dry-erase marker, outlining the components of the DNA that were anomalies based off of a regular sample of human DNA. I looked at them, and realized that, connected to these strands of DNA, was not a new substance, yet a group of molecules combining in ways never before. I started writing down the elements it contained, frantically scribbling with my dry-erase marker.

I walked over to my desk and opened a new document on my computer. I added the images, double clicking and dragging from the tab on the zoomed in image of the strand of DNA. I then added the names of all of the elements that weren't supposed to be there, the molecular anomalies, and wrote about three paragraphs on each.

I kept writing until my fingers were sore, until even that watered down coffee ration- black, I had always liked black coffee- could not keep my eyes open for long enough to focus on the computer screen in front of me. All of my labmates had retired to our small, shared room, where my middle bunk would be waiting for me. They had been given less work, less papers, and less compounds to analyze. I guess it made since, I have been training and working here since I was just in elementary school, and the two whom I hadn't even bothered to learn the names of had came here just 6 months ago, and had only started working in the lab and sharing a room with me for barely more than 2 weeks.

I finally finished the paper, feeling all the more satisfied when I typed off those last couple words, and clicked send, giving it off to my supervisor to analyze and likely complain. This work was tiring and I never even got a day off, but it was better than working in the mines or in one of those dusty old factories, where the smog never cleared and the air kept giving a large majority of the workers terminal diseases. I never saw outside or even the sun here, but it was probably not anything too memorable, with everything that had happened to the earth, I could imagine that it was hardly more than a bleak little speck of yellow in a swath of dark grays and browns that the people who lived here had learned to call a sky. I shoved my fingers into my head, feeling my hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail, bouncy curls contained and manageable. My fingers ran through my scalp and massaged it, and I could feel my eyebrows pressed together and my eyes scrunched up in my head. I finally lifted my head from my hands to gaze at the small, rectangular, analog clock with the red numbers, sitting on the corner of my desk, just a reminder that, no matter how long I stared at or waited for my shift to end or waited for my break, it would not change the fact that I was stuck here forever, no matter what the time on that clock read. When my vision finally stopped drooping and falling across the room, my eyes focused on the time, and slowly, the blur around the numbers faded just so I could read them. 4:00- not that bad, I was actually expecting it to be much later, maybe all of my colleagues decided to leave early- 4:00 AM. Shit. I groaned, and pushed myself up from the elbows, finding my footing like a clumsy fawn. I stumbled to the door, where I practically flung myself into it and sank into the handle, turning it.

With one finally thrust and a tired groan, I pushed the door open, clumsily crossing my legs and letting my ankles turn inwards. I barreled into one of the sleek white walls of the hallway, lit only by a flickering LED cleverly hidden between the roof and the wall. I dragged my arms across it, half laying against the wall, and half stumbling and tittering forwards. I probably looked like a zombie, something without a mind with only one goal in life- to eat brains. I nearly chuckled at this thought, but my breaths came out like just a wheeze instead. I guess this is what I get from staying up from 5:00 AM to 4:00 AM the next day just to finish a paper because otherwise you would have to complete it the next day and your supervisor would antagonize you and purposefully give you more work than usual because you need to compensate for all of her other needs and meetings and she wouldn't postpone anything because you should have done it earlier.

I kept stumbling until I reached the panel labeled with a neat little 405b in platinum on the very front in a nice little neat font. I put my hand where a handle would normally be, and then punched in the excessively long code. 6-7-8-9-0-5-4-3. Wait, no. 6-7-9-0-1-4-7-8. Wrong again. The pad flashed red and I banged my head softly across the panel to stifle the scream of boiling rage and sleep deprivation building in my throat. Finally, my fingers matched my brain and I entered the right code. 3-2-5-1–1-3-5-3. The lock pad beeped green and the panel sunk an inch into the hallway. I pushed it at the right side, and it flung open inwards.