minuscule differences in their makeup had set themselves apart, like small for-tresses, and whenever two came too close, the nanoagents in each, programmed with a slightly different model of perfection, collided and began tiny wars for dominance.
Brin stared at the sample on the slide for a few moments, jotted some notes and then pulled it out.
She quickly went through a number of other samples, all from the long-term cultures provided by the Chinese. It didn’t happen in every case.
Some of the samples were fine, despite being even slightly older than the polio slide, but others were worse. The cellular structure in a few had been de-molished and an entirely new cellular life-form had begun to emerge.
Brin carefully replaced all of the samples and sat down at her computer. She entered the data for what she’d just seen. She had a cell-modeling program that had been preloaded with all the traits of healthy cells of each type involved in the research. When she entered the traits she recorded each day from her samples she got a timeline of reconstruction. The program created a model of the cell as it was at each checkpoint, mapped the changes that had already been made and mapped those that needed to be completed before the cells reached their original healthy state.
In most cases, it took less than thirty-six hours for the cells to regenerate. Most of the case studies had been shut down at twelve days, making that the control. In biomedical research, that was an incredibly short window and wholly inadequate for results leading to the opportunity to test a new treatment on human subjects. That was why she’d begun her own research on the original samples provided. She’d foolishly believed curing disease was what it was all about. What had really mattered to Rand, and to MRIS, was cutting down the amount of time the nanoagents needed to complete their work.
What she’d just seen changed everything, or at least it should have. Though the nanoagents still appeared to be effective in most of the samples, the few that had mutated and gone on to cause irre-parable damage sent huge red flags of warning shooting through her brain. She hadn’t recognized the cells the mutated polio culture had created.
They would probably just war with one another until they were destroyed, but if one cell proved stronger and emerged victorious, what would they have created? Would it stop there? If they set loose what they thought was a controlled biological weapon, could it mutate into something that ran out of control and destroyed life as they knew it?
In any case, she had to let Rand know. It might not matter to him, or to any of them. It had taken a big inner shift, but her view of the world had changed quite a bit over the past few days. She understood that there were men who cared very little for the lives of others, who put personal gain far ahead of human compassion and who saw her work only as a means to an end.
Once she’d finished the reports she sent the output from the cell-modeling software to the color printer in the corner. She had a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and she put them to good use.
One of the containers that had shipped out of China, the largest, was comprised of solely programmed and yet-to-be-programmed nanoagents.
She opened this container and sat it on the bench.
Next she pulled out a very small vial. She placed this vial into a larger tube, about the size of a lipstick container, then took the end result and filled in around it with a special gel used to insulate samples.
Brin wasn’t certain when she was and was not on camera, so she worked quickly, but she tried not to make any sudden or jerky movements. She transferred a small sampling of the nanoagents to the vial, sealed it carefully, sealed the main package and placed it all back on ice. When she turned to put the case away, she slipped the metal tube into the pocket of her lab coat. She didn’t know if she’d been seen, but it was a chance she was willing to take. The scientist in her wouldn’t allow for the complete destruction of valuable research, and that was what was happening. She hadn’t sealed the canister fully, and as she stepped away from the bench, she brushed the temperature controls on the outside of the box. It was only a fleeting touch, but she’d been planning it for hours.
That glancing touch allowed her to spin the dial on the temperature control. It would take a while, maybe longer than she had, but unless something very quickly stabilized the temperature regulation system on the canister, the samples inside would be contaminated. None of the nanoagent cells were programmed to withstand extremes in heat, and she’d adjusted the thermostat to raise the temperature to over one hundred degrees. Most, if not all, of the cultures would die within an hour or two of exposure to that.
She crossed to the printer and gathered up the pile of printouts she’d created. It was time to take what she’d discovered to Rand. He wouldn’t believe her, of course, not at first. He’d say she was just being difficult, and he might order something to be done to Alex. It didn’t matter. In the end, Rand had a degree in biochemistry himself, though his skills had grown decidedly rusty since he planted himself in the director’s seat. He would see that the research she’d brought him was accurate, and he would know the truth. It probably wouldn’t stop him from going through with his plans, but that was why Brin was taking no chances. By the time he got someone in to double- check what she’d been doing, the samples would be destroyed.
She just needed to find a way out before her own actions were discovered. If she didn’t manage that, she knew she was living her last day on Earth, and that the same was true of Alex. She prayed that Karen would understand when neither of them showed up to claim Savannah that it was time to hit the road.
Brin nearly teared up thinking about it. She knew she might never see her family or her friends again. She wanted to scream. She wanted to slam things around and smash things until there was nothing left to smash.
She wanted Alex.
With a deep breath she turned to the door and entered the number for the cipher lock. She didn’t know if the men who’d come to set up the lock somehow knew what she’d entered for her private code, but from what she’d seen and heard she thought they didn’t. Even if Rand had it, without her thumbprint, he couldn’t get into the lab once it was locked down, and she had no intention of keying it in for him or providing her thumb without putting up a fight. He might force it out of her over time, but she didn’t need that much time. On her way out she stepped close to the wall and once again managed to brush the temperature control.
There was no time to look to see precisely where she’d set it, but she knew she’d raised the temperature. It would set off alarms eventually, but no one would be able to get in to change it. They’d have to break down the door to get in, and by then it probably wouldn’t matter.
The materials in the canister on her bench were delicate. One of the reasons she’d been chosen was her attention to detail, and they’d counted on her to preserve their samples and their research.
They’d set up an immaculate lab with only one flaw. She didn’t want to play their game anymore.
She closed the door behind herself and heard the satisfying metallic thunk of the locks sliding into place. She made a show for the security cameras, straightening out her printouts and staring at one of them for a moment as she steadied her nerves.
Then she stepped into the hall and started for the elevator for what she knew would be the last time.
She had one chance to convince Rand he was crazy, and just enough time, she hoped, to make sure that, crazy or not, it wouldn’t matter. They’d still have the research and the data, but it would take time to rebuild their project. She only hoped they hadn’t sent it to one of the other research centers MRIS had around the globe.
The building was empty and when the elevator ground to a halt on her floor, the sound echoed ominously. She knew that somewhere in the building there was a security patrol, but she was equally sure that now, at night, with only the two of them in the complex, Rand would have his handpicked men on duty. She’d seen a few of them mixed in with the regular security guards, more as the days passed. Their uniforms were more military in style than the others, and they moved a lot like Alex did, now that she thought about it.
Whatever was going on, they weren’t taking chances on anyone catching on. It wouldn’t be long before the staff of the building had been replaced with faces Brin had never seen.
She was glad her own people were gone for the day. She’d wanted to warn them, to find a way to keep them away from the complex, but there was no way to communicate directly from the private lab, and any conversation had to be considered to have been recorded. She didn’t know what or whom to trust anymore. She didn’t feel safe speaking to anyone or doing anything as long as she was inside the MRIS complex.
The elevator halted on the top floor and she stepped into the empty hall. The lights were dim.
The only illumination came from the open door of Rand’s outer office. Brin squared her shoulders and checked her watch. She knew the climate control in the labs was set to stabilize in less than an hour, and she’d already been
