01: Natural Selection

The clicking of heels on the pristine tile floors forewarned the laboratory of her arrival before the hermetic glass doors slid open. A pair of nyloned legs appeared in the doorway and just like roaches when the lights turn on everyone scattered to their stations, pretending to work on their assigned duties. Ericka Vanguard, the Vice President of BioCore Pharmaceuticals, entered the room. Her freshly ironed suit clung to her hips as she walked with purpose towards the terminal in back.

Each brisk step echoed through the otherwise noiseless room. Beakers bubbled and fingers tapped away on keyboards as the scientists continued their experiments, doing their best to avoid direct eye contact. And although Ericka didn’t look at any of them, their eyes occasionally glanced up from their microscopes and test tubes to peer at her. Her thin lips pressed together in a tight line, making her lips nearly vanish from her face. Her icy, blue eyes were directed on one man in particular and he swallowed hard watching her approach.

“What do you have for me?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for Raymond Bell, Head Researcher, to respond.

“The results for the latest experiment,” he said, handing her an analytical chart of examination. “We’ve injected three different guinea pigs with three slightly varied strands of bone, liver and pancreatic cancers. Afterwards, we gave them all the same dose of a cure we’ve been working on, one that’s shown significant results against our manipulated Avian flu and are carefully observing their progress.”

“Is that it?” she asked, not accepting the paper he offered as she continued glaring at him.

That customary scowl again crossed over her medically altered face and Raymond was beginning to believe she had it surgically affixed. “Well as you can see the outcomes are different with each animal. In one case, the disease acted as normal causing increased heart rate, fever, and diarrhea. The other two are pending dissection.”

Snatching the paper from the man’s hand, she quickly read over the results and sighed. “This is unacceptable. You’ve been working on this species for three years and you’re not any closer to cracking it than you were when you started! What have you been doing all this time?” Her neatly manicured hands balled up the report and she angrily hurled it at his head. “You’re standing here talking to me about rat feces and fever…”

“Th-they’re guinea pigs,” Raymond interrupted. “It’s a species of rodent but their biological makeup differs dramatically making them the better…research…animal.”

Ericka took a solitary step forward, the scowl on her face appeared to deepen as she snarled. “I hired you to manipulate the chemical compounds of infectious diseases not lecture me on the biological makeup of your project pets. I need results but so far all you’ve handed me are excuses and dead rats.”

“We are still working,” he offered, hoping to appease her before she became even more upset. Ericka had already fired three researchers and an intern from MIT earlier this week. He was trying not to become number five. 

“You and your assistants are clocking hours and hours of overtime and have made no new developments yet you continue taking hour long lunch breaks and hanging around gossiping at the water cooler. What do you think this is? Recess in pre-k? I’m not running a daycare here! BioCore is a multinational corporation and the leader in pharmaceuticals in over thirty different countries worldwide. I don’t have the time or the patience for failure. I need something real. Something that I can take back to the board and show them this is where your millions are being spent. One week. I am giving you until noon on Friday to get me something tangible. If you have not created a product worthy of the BioCore name by then, I suggest you find yourself new employment.” Her heels clicked noisily against the floor, moving faster this time as she stomped towards the exit.

“What a bitch!” Raymond turned in time to find his lab assistant Rylie Hart standing at her station.

“How long have you been there?”

“Just arrived. Although I did catch the end of the show. Ericka just needs a really good piping,” she said with a smile and Raymond’s shoulders slumped. “Aw come on, Ray, cheer up! Look at the bright side. If you don’t give her what she asked for you won’t have to deal with her ever again.”

“I’ve been working here for 14 years, Rylie, I can’t lose this…” Raymond looked around before leaning closer to her. “I’ve been using the lab to work on a project of my own. One that I think will be hugely successful in curing one of the big diseases,” he whispered.

“Ooh a secret project. Why haven’t you told me about this before?”

“Because up until now I hadn’t had much success. But given access to the infectious diseases in the cold room has opened up many doors. Come, take a look.” Leading her out of the room, Raymond pressed his access card on the electronic scanner beside a sliding metal door before entering another hallway. Through a separate area across from their lab, he quickly ushered her inside a dark room and shut the door. “Wait here.”

One-by-one the lights came on and Rylie found herself standing inside a lab she had never seen before. Unused equipment shimmered on several countertops nearby. The immaculate and unmarked tile floors mirrored the reflections of everything in the room. Price tags still clung to most of the microscopes sitting on uncluttered workstations. Even the room smelled like new. “Wow. So why aren’t we using this lab?” Rylie asked as Raymond rejoined her.

“It’s restricted for ‘Special Research’ only.”

“Special as in unusual?”

“Special as in classified. No one is supposed to know about it but with my security clearance, I have access.”

Rylie shook her head while her eyes continued roaming over the shiny new toys in front of her. “Why are we in here?”

“Right. You’ve heard of the Alpha Virus, correct?”

“Of course,” Rylie said, leaning against the table. “It’s a form of cancer that affects men between the ages of 20-50 but onset of the symptoms can happen at any age. Is that what you’ve been researching?”

“My son is sick, Rylie,” Raymond replied, bowing his head into his hands as he took a seat. “This drug…it could be his only chance to survive; his one shot at a normal life. He started showing signs of the disease when he was 12. It’s genetic. It took his grandfather, my dad, when he was 42. I was lucky, it skipped my generation, but it’s affecting my son. Every day I watch him grow sicker and I feel so powerless to stop it. It’s why I’m doing this, why I became an infectious disease researcher.”

“You said you’ve had success?”

“Yes. It’s astonishing.” Raymond pulled out a clipboard with pages and pages of data and handed it to Rylie. “The male guineas were all injected with varied doses of the disease. For 3 weeks it ravaged their nervous systems and wreaked havoc on both their livers and lungs. By week 4 the cancer had begun to spread to other parts of the body. Week 5, all of them were given the same amount of the drug and by week 8 all of them had made rapid and remarkable recoveries!”

“Wow, Ray…this is…”

“I KNOW! Do you have any idea what this could mean for my son?”

“But it’s only coded for male DNA.”

“Yes. It’s true I’ve only been able to get the strain to adhere to the Y-chromosome but with further research I think the drug can be manipulated to work across the board for other cancers.”

“You haven’t told Ericka I’m assuming.”

“No. Of course not. And all of my research has been offline since I know they are monitoring computer use. Look, Ericka is out to make a name for herself. She doesn’t care about the health and well-being of the people this drug could help. She sees one thing and one thing only: money. I won’t let her use my son’s illness as a way to inflate her pockets. This is between you and me.”

“Me? It looks like you’ve completed most of the work. What do you need me for?”

“With Ericka breathing down my neck it’s been nearly impossible to work on this project without her finding out. I need someone to help with testing and research, someone I can trust. I want to move from guineas to monkeys. It’s the next step before the leap to human testing.”

“And because monkeys are only used in the microorganisms department, which I so happen to be a part of, you want me to get my hands on the test subjects for you.” Rylie said, completing his thought.

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy? My name goes on those requisition forms, Ray. If we get caught…”

“We won’t. I’ve been extremely cautious in my work here,” he said, looking up to meet her eyes. “If anything happens I’ll take full responsibility, you have my word. Please? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t 100% believe this could help my son.”

Rylie gave it some thought before letting out a deep breath and taking a step forward. “Ok. I’ll do it.”

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