Creatures of God

Race Against Time

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That's funny, Elliot thought.

On his way to the lab, the resident physician noticed something familiar, and yet unusual -- a storage unit left out in one of the hallways.

What's this doing here?

Normally the black-box containers were located within more secure confines.

Is it broken?

The unit's door was partially ajar, and Elliot opened it further, triggering an inner light source. He looked inside and reached. The storage compartment was empty, but Elliot noticed something else -- a cool sub-temperature.

It's not standard. Climate-controlled. Where did this unit come from?

Elliot turned the heavy equipment to its back side, and an identification marker confirmed his suspicion: The unit was from the pathology lab -- his own department.

Elliot's jaw dropped.

Alessandro?

He shifted his feet and breathed with a certain unease.

If this box is from the lab, it would've been used to preserve tissue samples.

Elliot's mind raced. He had to get the vagrant object back to the lab at once. A nuisance! He needed a transporter to move the dense, heavy object. Worse, he needed to check the department holdings for all of their tissue specimens.

Have the micro-cultures or clone experiments been tampered with? What is Alessandro doing?

Lastly, Elliot would have to report the missing unit to Dr. Berman. Another deficiency, another mark of incompetence.

"You're not helping me here!" Elliot said to the storage unit. He gave it a good swift kick, but grabbed at his toe afterwards and hobbled away.

——- ——- ——-

Later that day in the pathology lab, Dr. Berman sat at his office desk, his head hanging over folded arms. He removed his eyeglasses and tossed them to the desk space in front of himself. He rubbed his eyes and temples.

Elliot stood in front of Dr. Berman, like a defendant standing before a judge.

"I-I don't know how it got there," Elliot said. "I don't know if something's been stolen, or what, but I promise I'm going to find out what's going on."

There was no immediate response.

"Professor?"

"Uh, yes, Elliot," the older physician replied. "That will be fine."

Elliot furrowed his eyebrows. He tilted his head and tried to read his mentor's mixed face. "Is something the matter, Doc?"

Dr. Berman looked up from his slumped posture. He pursed his lips and placed his hands in front of his nose and lips, as if to pray. "I, uh, I attempted an emergence on another capsule today."

"Oh!" Elliot replied, his eyes widening. "You did?"

Without me? Elliot internalized. His thoughts of the mysterious storage unit disappeared.

"Okay... that's good... that's fine." He glanced about the control room and peeked into the adjoining lab room. "So, where's the, uh, test subject? Where's the time capsule?"

Dr. Berman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He leaned back and sank into his chair, as if a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders. "It was not successful."

"What?" Elliot's eyes grew. "What do you mean?"

The old man said nothing.

"How could the protocol not work?" Elliot questioned. "It worked perfectly last time!"

Dr. Berman still did not react.

Elliot went into investigative mode. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know," Dr. Berman replied, almost a whisper.

"Oxygen level?" Elliot persisted.

"It was fine."

"Reversal agent?"

"Yes."

"500 electro-joules?"

Dr. Berman frowned. He put his glasses back on his face.

"Did you give blood?" Elliot asked, before his mentor could even reply to the previous question.

"Why are you asking me that?" Dr. Berman said, his voice raised. "Because it was your idea to transfuse in the first place?"

Elliot held up his hands. "What? No, Professor... I..."

"l did everything the same way as last time!" Dr. Berman thundered. "I used the exact same protocol!"

Elliot became wide-eyed, his face stunned.

"Bah! What relevance does transfusion have in the emergence process anyway?" The Professor threw a hand up. "None of the subjects has even had a low blood count! It puts our whole protocol into question!"

"How can you say that?" Elliot said in defense. "I-it raises oxygen capacity! And at least Alessandro survived!"

"Oh yes, Alessandro survived," the senior doctor scoffed. "And now we'll have to waste another subject using 'Alessandro's Protocol!' Hmph! Don't be blind, Elliot! Aless' survival had nothing to do with the transfusion!"

A fire rose in the pit of Elliot's being.

"What is your problem, Professor? You never want to give me any credit! You're never satisfied with my work! If you don't want to give me tenure, that's fine! Just say so!"

The Professor scowled.

"Is that what you think this is about, Elliot? Grow up! I expect better from you! Stop being insecure, and start thinking about the larger problem at hand! We only have a few capsules left! One successful emergence doesn't prove a thing! Today's failure only shrouds our results! We haven't figured anything out!"

Elliot closed his mouth.

A period of silence followed.

Finding a solution to the emergence puzzle was like a race against time. A race against resources. But what was the prize?

The old doctor stood away with his back turned. He located the back of a nearby chair and leaned, clutching himself with his other arm.

Elliot waited for the Professor to gather himself. The old man was known to have moments of fervor that would exasperate him.

"We must figure out the protocol, Elliot," Dr. Berman grunted. "Many lives have been sacrificed to get to this point. We owe it to them to finish."

"Don't worry, Professor," Elliot reassured. "We'll figure it out."

Dr. Berman closed his eyes. "I hope you're right."

There was another memorial-like moment of silence.

Another thought popped into Elliot's mind, something he'd thought about before, but had always kept to himself; something from the past that he'd always felt was worth discussing.

"Professor, do you think we can recover nuclear technology from the capsules?"

Recover the nuclear technology? Uh-oh! You know what happens when people start craving for nuclear power... or do you? Stay tuned! Come join me for more!