The difference between good and evil. Pt 1
Enjoy! Written by: CR Cole
"If we don't get those samples Identified and singled out, and we can't figure out what's stopping the bond than this whole project is ruined."
Kelsie pinched the bridge of her nose tightly after the directors left, try all she might the headache of dealing with the suits lingers stubbornly. Looking up she spots her assistant Veronica coming from the hallway, the whitewash walls of the DC lab stand in stark contrast against the tight black dress she wears, I smile when I see her remembering her crush on Jared, one of the male nurses, she smiles at me before holding out a clipboard.
My smile quickly drops when she hands it too me, her hazel eyes are slightly dilated and her brown hair is hanging unceremoniously around her shoulders. Working in my lab for four years she knows to keep her hair kept, and the dilation suggests heighten mood, usually used to relate when a fighter is about to strike, but in her case, it means high stress.
"What's wrong?" I ask turning the board to face me, she doesn't say anything but she doesn't need too, it failed. I turn around and toss the board on the long desk of the meeting room. "What time?" I ask.
"Two hours ago, we just got that report from genetics." Her voice is laden, understandably so, this project is something we've been working on for ten years. So many tests, so many failed results, it's now hitting a peak, and desperation is high in the whole facility.
I turn around and give her a smile, deciding to be happy about the failure. Her incredulous look never fails to amuse me, 4 years and shes still not used to my optimism and proactive attitude. "We'll just try again, no big deal."
My smile betrays my mood and she picks up instantly, 20 years working on this project, shes been with me for 15 of them, shes my only friend left in this lab. Only 19 shes been with me through it all.
"Aunt Kelsie." She says placing her hand on my arm. "Your 29, you've been working on this project since you were 19, I know you want children and a husband, is this project truly worth not having that?
Despite the way her words bite, she isn't wrong. I look in the window at myself, face still showing the youth of my 20's, but the line in my eyes betray the coming of my age. Once shiny blonde hair is now getting darker, a phase of my bodies maturing no doubt. I take a deep breath and tell her what I've been telling myself since graduating my third college at 16 "If this project works and is successful, than we'll never have to worry about age again, and I will have plenty of time to start a family."
Her lips purse. "Is the if worth it Aunt?"
"It has to be."
She leaves soon after taking the board with her, making my way to my office I observe the lab that afters years of work was named after and given to me. The walls are white giving way to glass throughout a long hallway. Each pane of glass shows multiple labs were scientists work diligently to make my dream a reality, the same dream that just failed for the three hundredth time.
I step into my plain office at the end of the hallway, on the front of the door it reads lead scientist, but right now I'm just not feeling it. Once inside a take a deep breath and shed my lab coat, "Come one old girl, It's been a long day but you'll be fine." shedding the city accent iv'e grown accustom too my voice takes on the southern drawl my father used when speaking to me as a child. He would always say that too the cows after a long day of milk gathering, I smile as his words once used to calm cows is now used to get me through potentially the worst day of my life.
My desk sits at the other end of the room facing me, it's current center piece the letter from the higher ups telling us that if we don't have results in the next month we'll be shut down. On the corner of my desk is a picture my sister, Veronica's mother, dead for two years now I'm all the family that girl has left, and with a bunk father shes been feeling my failures almost more than I have.
A sudden knock on the door startles me and pulls me out of my head, my greatest gift and enemy. I open the door and give a fake smile, a US post man stands on the other side.
"I have a package for you miss Jones." He says.
"Why didn't it come straight to my mailbox?" I ask finding it strange that he walked through two miles of government facility to get to me.
He shrugs and says. "Steep pockets wanted it delivered directly, who am I to deny three G's."
I take the note slightly shocked at his response and go back to my desk, sitting down I take a closer look at the front of the envelope, no return address, just my name and the address in very vivid detail. Shocked by the amount of intimacy the writer has with my facility I open the letter with surprising anticipation.
Inside are two things, a typed out note from an unnamed writer, and directions to a place not marked on a map, in the middle of the pacific ocean. I start with the letter first, opening it to find beautiful calligraphy written with impeccable penmanship.
Dear miss Jones.
We have caught wind of your recent failures, and your recent shut down notice. We here at Thoth labs would like to extend a formal invitation for you to join our annual failing sciences convention. The directions are disclosed in the envelope so you can find your way, we want to help you rehabilitate your studies, and so you know this offer is not a hoax.
Right below is a chemical formula dealing my exact failure from today, but there a few slight changes. I look over this formula multiple times before it dawns on me why it works and what I did wrong. My breath seems to leave my lungs all at one, they know, how could they know. I do a once over of the note one more time noting the beauty of the handwriting, why is it written that way? Forget it, who cares, I look at the formula again and make a choice.