Atomic Kittyby Persia Whitmore pulled the delivery truck into the parking lot of the Advanced Atomic Research Laboratory. As usual, parking was at a premium. With a heavy sigh, Persia double parked her truck near the entrance that was closest to the commissary. It was early in the morning, so no one should mind. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't dropped out of college to take that modeling job, grumbled Persia to herself. It was an unlucky move. Persia had no idea that the so-called modeling agency she had signed up for was actually a money laundering front for a crime syndicate. When the FBI showed up and shut the business down, she lost all of her savings. Now, she was stuck with no job, no education and no money, without which she couldn't finish what she had started in college. Her parents, who were still angry over her leaving school, refused to support her. They had told her that she had to take responsibility for her impulsive actions. Although it stung, she knew they were right.
To save money,
Persia left her
apartment, put her belongings in storage and stayed for a few weeks
at the YMCA. Then, she went job hunting. Without a bachelor's
degree, the pickings were slim. In fact, she considered herself
lucky to have gotten her current job. Once she had saved
enough
money, she was able to move out of the Y and into a low rent apartment
in a reasonably nice neighborhood. Persia opened the rear of the truck and pulled out her dolly. Then, she methodically began loading it up with crates of candy bars, cookies and pastries. Persia noted that with all the lifting required for this job, she had begun to tone up a bit in the upper body. Her arms, back and chest muscles were starting become well defined. Persia had long since decided to take advantage of her stay at the Y, and use the in-house exercise and fitness program. Nowadays, she was lifting amounts that she would have balked at months ago. Persia shut the rear hatch and wheeled her heavily laden dolly into the AARL building. It was a short trip to the commissary. "Hey, its Persia," called one of the workers in the commissary to his coworkers. "Welcome back, doll." Persia inwardly sighed. Sexual harassment went against company policy here at AARL. However, it only applied to the female lab workers. Persia, unfortunately, was fair game for their neglected innuendos and one-liners. Apparently, the baggy coverall uniform that delivery workers for the SweetBean Candy Company were required to wear was not a deterrent. One of her most ardent fans was leaning against the coffee dispenser next to the candy machine. "So, when did you end up back on this shift, Persia?" asked Will Green, the director of research at AARL. "When I fell asleep at the wheel of my truck last week and nearly wrecked it," sighed Persia. "Yikes," said Will with genuine concern. "I guess I'm not cut out for night duty," said Persia. "Well, for what its worth," said Will, "the guys around here sure missed you." "Ha! I'll bet," snorted Persia. "Seriously, they like having you around," said Will. "You talk to them unlike most delivery guys who tend to act standoffish and snobbish." "I can't imagine why a delivery person would act snobbish," said Persia. "Our salaries are barely a tenth of what you guys make." "Well...," began Will hesitantly, "most of the guys who deliver here deal with hazardous material, so they get paid a premium." Persia shook her head. Hazmat was not the kind of thing she'd even consider, no matter what condition her finances were in. Persia had opened the vending machine during her conversation with Will and was busily replacing what needed replacing and filling up what was near empty. Will glanced at the clock on the commissary wall. "Whoops, gotta get back to work. Talk to you tomorrow, okay?" "Sure," said Persia. She didn't know what Will was really going on about. He was the only one who spoke civil to her, despite the occasional derogatory pet names. Truth be told, she rather enjoyed talking with Will, though she'd be loathed to admit it to him. She even thought he was kind of cute, for a lagomorph. She wasn't sure what it was about him that was attractive. The long ears, the fuzzy tail, the nose that twitched when he was amused by something. The eyeglasses and the lab coat weren't doing much for him. Persia shook her head, wondering why she was even thinking about Will. She had work to do * * *
Carl Fosby had been under a lot of pressure. There was the
divorce, the higher insurance premiums, and now, two years of back
taxes owed to the government. He thought that his troubles
were
over when he got a loan through his second cousin. He later
found
out that his second cousin had an interesting idea about reminding his
clients regarding repayment. Two large bovines had met him at
his
front stoop one morning. They made it perfectly clear what
would
happen to him if he didn't pay the money back plus interest.
Now,
Fosby was desperate to find some quick way of making cash to pay off
his cousin.
That was when he came up with a plan to sell one of the top secret
projects at the lab to one of their competitors. Orpheus
Chemicals had offered a large sum that would solve all his
problems. There was a new project that was going on in the
high
security lab. However, being in charge of security at AARL
eliminated that obstacle. Fosby was able to program the
system to
shut down for a short period of time, allowing him to slip in, grab a
sample of whatever it was they were working on, and slip out before the
security system kicked back in again. Everything had been
going
smoothly so far as he eased in during the morning break.
Unfortunately, what he hadn't known was that the project sample was an
aqueous solution of a new synthetic radioisotope. As soon as
Fosby stepped into the hallway, the radiation alarms began blaring
their warning of radiation contamination in the building.
That
was when Fosby decided to run for it. *
* *
Persia had just finished loading up the pastry machine when an alarm
went off.
What now,
thought Persia.
She decided to take a peek outside the commissary to see if there was a
fire or something. As she stepped out into the hall, she saw
a
chameleon in a two piece suit running toward her. He seemed
to be
carrying a glass container with some kind of neon pink liquid inside
it. Persia suddenly realized that the liquid was glowing.
"Hey, buddy," she called to the chameleon. "What's all the
racket
about?"
The chameleon, who had up to this point had been watching behind him,
turned around at the sound of Persia's voice. Since he had
been
running at top speed down the long hallway, he found it near impossible
to stop. Fosby collided head on into the candy delivery
girl. The glass jar in his hands shattered between
them.
Several shards of glass cut deep into his stomach and chest as well as
his hands. The glowing pink goop had splashed all over the
both
of them. The impact had knocked Persia onto her tail.
"You bastard," she yelled, "why don't you watch where you're going!?"
Persia
looked at her service coveralls and saw that they were stained heavily
with pink slime. "Crap. The boss is gonna kill
me.
You're paying for the cleaning bill, buster."
Persia noticed the the chameleon in the suit wasn't paying her any
attention. There was a strange glazed look in his
eyes. He
seemed to be swaying back and forth on his feet.
"Hey, pal, you okay?" asked Persia a little cautiously. "I
think
you need to see a doctor about those cuts. Don't you guys
have a
clinic here or something?"
At that moment, several people in radiation suits came scrambling down
the hall. Two were carrying what looked like a bucket with a
sealed lid. Persia guessed that the bucket was made of lead
by
the way the two men barely managed to carry it. She
recognized
one of the radiation suits as Will Green.
Will stopped dead in his tracks at he caught sight of the
accident. "Aw, crap," he said in a barely audible whisper.
"Holy mother of pearl!" shouted one of the men with the lead
bucket. "The omega's been spilled! We gotta
evacuate the
area!"
"Calm down, Grant," said Will. "Get a hazmat team down here
on
the double. I want this whole section cordoned off."
"What about them?" asked another.
Suddenly, Fosby screamed as if in tortured agony and collapsed on the
floor. This really freaked Persia. She looked at
Will and
yelled, "What the hell was in that jar?"
Will walked over to Persia and carefully lifted her off of the
floor. "I'm sorry, Persia," he said with a pained
expression. It made him look years older. "I never
would
have thought something like this would happen."
"You didn't answer my question," she accused.
One of the other men had walked over to the chameleon and was checking
his vital signs. "He's gone," he said flatly.
Persia was stunned. Her jaw started to work out a question,
but
no sound came from her mouth. The apparent medic in the
radiation
suit stood and looked at Will. "We need to get her into
quarantine. Stat."
"Right," said Will.
Persia looked at Will Green, but he wouldn't look her in the
eye.
"Will, what's going on? What's happening?"
The doctor and another rad suit grabbed Persia by both arms and began
to haul her up the corridor.
"Damn it, Will," screamed Persia. "Answer me!"
Her curses were heard as she was literally dragged all the way to the
end of the hall, until they were cut off by a sound proof
door.
Will had winced as each invective reached his ears. It wasn't
fair. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do.
He had
the greater population to think about. *
* *
They had locked her in a room with no windows, a single bed, a chair,
and a rather large mirror. Persia had seen enough cop shows
on TV
to know that the mirror was in fact a silvered one way observation
window. Later, two women in radiation suits came in with a
dressing screen and forced Persia to remove both her coveralls and her
clothing, including her undergarments. Then, another woman
brought in a portable shower, and they directed her to wash up
thoroughly. After Persia had showered and toweled herself dry
as
best she could, they gave her an oversized smock to wear. The
three women left the room, taking her clothes, the screen and the
portable shower with them. Persia was still a little damp
because
her fur was difficult to dry with a mere towel. She longed
for a
hair dryer, especially for her tail, which had lost its characteristic
body due to the dampness.
She was scared. But more importantly, she was majorly
pissed. Not one of the women would answer her
questions.
They kept their faces passive, but Persia could tell they were keeping
something important from her. Something that could mean her
very
life was in jeopardy. Just then, the door opened.
Will
Green stepped in still wearing his radiation suit. Persia saw
red
and reached to strike him, but apparently he was ready for her reaction
to his presence and blocked each hit she attempted. When she
had
worn herself out, Persia simply sat on the bed and glared intense
hatred at him.
Will took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "It's time you
knew what's going on," he started.
"It's long since past that," snarled Persia vehemently.
"I'm really sorry about what's happened," said Will.
"For cryin' out loud, stop saying that and get to the point," shouted
Persia. Her nerves were a frazzle, and she was about ready to
start taking a few more swings at Will.
"The man you ran into was our head of security," said Will in preamble.
"Was?" prompted Persia.
"He's...dead," admitted Will.
"I kind of gathered that," said Persia, "but I wanted to be
sure.
So, am I going to die, too?"
"We...don't really know," said Will uncertainly.
"What the hell do you mean, you don't really know?" growled
Persia. Now was not the time for Will to choose to be
uncertain.
"Fosby was carrying a new radioisotope we dubbed omega radiation," said
Will. "We don't know what all it does just yet.
We're still
studying it. Apparently, Fosby died because of direct blood
poisoning when the glass from the container cut him. Your
uniform
protected you from the glass, so you only received a small dose through
the skin. We don't know what that will do to you.
It...may
mean that it will take longer for you to...well..."
Persia blinked. Will was getting choked up. She
couldn't
believe that he was really upset over this, and not because of the
damage to their top secret project, but because he was actually
concerned about her. Persia couldn't help but be touched by
this. Still, it didn't change the fact that she was most
likely a
goner.
Not surprising
this happened to
me, she thought with gallows humor. Crappy
stuff like this happens all the time. Like that time I locked
that mouse in the vending machine. One of our customers ended
up
with an enraged rodent instead of his favorite candy bar. We
almost got sued, and I nearly lost my job.
"Look, I've contacted the authorities about this," said Will.
"A
lot of people were against it, but we have a responsibility to the
community to tell the truth. There'll be an
investigation.
Some doctors will want to have a look at you, but you are under no
obligation to submit to anything. You still have your rights."
"Well, of course I want to see a doctor," said Persia. "I
want to
know what's going to happen to me."
"Is there anyone you'd like to call?" asked Will.
"Family?
Loved ones?"
Persia thought about her parents. She shook her
head. She
thought that they deserved a break from all the grief she had put them
through thus far. Telling them that she might die would be
worse
than knowing for certain.
"Well, I'll see about getting you something to eat," said
Will.
He started to leave.
"Hey, do me a favor, Will," said Persia.
"Sure," said Will. "Anything."
"Call my boss and tell him to come pick up the truck," said
Persia. "Tell him...I'll be taking some serious sick leave
for a
while, but don't tell him why, okay?"
Will nodded. "I'll get right on it."
After Will had left, Persia sighed. What a lousy way to go,
she
thought. Locked
in a
quarantined room with nobody to talk to who isn't wearing a chunky rad
suit. She leaned back on the bed and decided to
take a
nap. Who
knows, she
thought sourly, maybe I
won't wake
up and my whole crummy life will finally be over. *
* * Persia had been in quarantine for almost a month, now. Still, there seemed to be no effects from the radioisotope that had been spilled down her front. If anything, she felt better than she had in a long time. It was as if a constant malaise that had been plaguing her all her life had suddenly been lifted. She had been able to convince her benefactors to allow her to decorate the room a bit so she wouldn't go mad staring at the same four walls painted in battleship gray.
A portable toilet
had been installed for her convenience along with the portable shower
she had used earlier. This time she was able to wrangle a
hair
dryer from a sympathetic equine doctor who had the same problem with
her mane. It was battery powered, since there were no
electrical
outlets of any kind in the room. She had been outfitted with
a
small wardrobe of clothes, which made her feel more relaxed as opposed
to the constant nervousness brought on by the smock. She
always
felt like she was waiting for surgery wearing that thing.
Many times,
Persia felt like a science project with all of the doctors and
radiation specialists poking and prodding her. She gave blood
samples twice a day and urine samples once every other day.
Once
they convinced her to give a stool sample. She had no idea
what
they were planning to do with it and refused to give any more
considering how disgusted she was over the whole thing.
A knock came at
the door. That was another recent change. Suddenly,
everyone was knocking and asking permission to enter. It
startled
Persia the first time it happened.
"Come in," said
Persia. "I'm decent."
Will stepped
cautiously into the room. Persia smiled. It was a
coincidental choice of words. A week before, Will had come in
just as she was stepping out of the shower. She was too
amused at
his reaction to be mad at him at the time, and after later reflection
it was downright hilarious. Will had blushed beet red, which
is
hard to do with a face full of fur. He tried to stammer out
an
apology and failed miserably. He kept trying to stare at her
face, and failed to do that as well. Then, he beat a hasty
retreat out of the room. She didn't see him again for two
days. It was the day after that incident that people began
knocking before entering.
"Hey, Will," said
Persia cheerfully. She was always happy to see him.
"How's
life outside the petri dish?"
Persia had been
calling her room, the petri dish because she had once commented that
she felt like she was under a microscope. "This is hardly a
petri
dish," was Will's response. Since then, the name
stuck. It
even got around to some of the other doctors and scientists who visited
her. Persia noticed an enthusiasm in Will's demeanor that she
didn't know he was capable of. He had always seemed stuffy to
her, even when he was just shooting the breeze with her in the
commissary. Now, he was rocking back and forth on his feet
and
grinning madly. It was infectious.
"What?" asked
Persia stifling a self conscious giggle.
"I've got some
great news," said Will.
It was then that
Persia noticed something amazingly peculiar about Will. He
was
smaller than he usually was. He was wearing a white shirt
with a
brown and orange, floral patterned tie, brown slacks...and no radiation suit!
"Hey, no suit,"
exclaimed Persia.
"That's right,"
said Will. "You're free to go."
It took a moment
or two for this declaration to sink in. Suddenly, Persia
squealed
and started dancing around the room. "I'm free!" she
cried.
She grabbed Will around the waist and hugged him while still spinning
about the room. Will's grin slowly faded into a look of
surprise.
"Whoa! Hold
it," he shouted.
"What wrong?"
asked Persia bewildered by Will's sudden change of mood. She
looked down and saw Will's feet dangling in the air.
"Have...you
lost weight?"
"Actually, I've
gained a couple of pounds," said Will. "Could you put me
down,
please?"
Persia carefully
set Will back on the floor. "Wow, what an adrenaline
rush!
I must have been dying to get out of here worse than I thought," she
said.
"I guess," said
Will slowly.
Persia studied
Will's face. "What?"
Will shook his
head as if to clear it. "Nothing," said Will.
"Let's give
you one last once over, and then, you can go home."
"Aw," pouted
Persia. "Can't I skip this one?"
Will smiled and
shook his head. "We need to be thorough."
"You just like
torturing me, that's all," said Persia.
Will chuckled and
led Persia out the door. The air in the hallway smelled fresh
and
cool. Persia hadn't realized just how stuffy it had gotten in
the
quarantine room. They walked to the clinic on the other side
of
the building. Persia noticed that Will had held her hand the
whole way there. She smiled to herself and said nothing.
As they entered
the clinic, a short heavy-set primate looked up from her desk of
reports. "Ah, the tower prisoner escapes at last," said Dr.
Marlina Mendez with a friendly smile.
"Hello, Dr.
Mendez. I'm here for my last checkup," said Persia.
Will
had
released his hold on Persia's hand when Dr. Mendez had surreptitious
glanced downward. She said nothing, but a knowing look
covered
her face.
"Not the last,
I'm afraid," said Dr. Mendez.
"Huh?"
"We'll still want
to monitor the long term effects of the isotope, if there are any,"
said Dr. Mendez cautiously. "I'd like to see you once a week
for
the next month. If everything goes well, we'll change it to
once
a month for the next six months, followed by once every other month for
six months."
"What? But
I thought everything was fine?" asked Persia feeling a little
betrayed. She should have known things were too good to be
true.
"Everything is
fine," said Dr. Mendez maintaining a patiently calm exterior.
"However, we want to know if there will be any long term effects from
the isotope, as I said. Will your fur fall out one year down
the
road? Is your life expectancy shortened in any kind of
way?
Will you be more susceptible to illness? Will you still be
able
to bear children?" At this last, Dr. Mendez glanced at
Will. This time, it was Persia's turn to blush.
"Right now,
you are in tip top condition. Everything is in working order,
but
people who have suffered exposure to radiation have developed long term
problems. Sometimes, they don't show up for a couple
decades. Sometimes, they don't show up until the next
generation. We want to be absolutely sure you've suffered no
lasting cell damage."
Persia
nodded. "That makes sense, I guess."
Dr. Mendez smiled
broadly. "Good." She looked at Will.
"You, out.
I've got work to do."
Will smiled and
nodded. He gave Persia's hand a quick squeeze and left the
clinic.
"He's really
taken to you since you've been here," said Dr. Mendez.
"Looking back, I
think he'd taken to me, as you put it, about a year ago," said Persia
looking back at the closed door.
Dr. Mendez
stopped in the middle of prepping an examination table. "A
year
ago?"
"That's when I
started filling the vending machine in the commissary here," said
Persia. "He was always chatting me up. At first, it
was
basic stuff. One-liners and such. I assumed it was
on a
dare from his cohorts. After a while, he began talking like a
normal person. I guess I eventually started responding."
Dr. Mendez
chuckled. "That's very interesting."
"What is?"
"I would have
thought he would have fallen prey to the husband hunters working on
staff here," said Dr. Mendez.
"I thought you
guys had a strict sexual harassment policy here. I read one
of
the pamphlets somebody dropped in the commissary."
Dr. Mendez
chuckled again. "That only applies if one or more of the
parties
involved agree that it's sexual harassment. If you don't
report
anything, it doesn't exist. Quite a logical loophole
considering
all of the legal wrangling that went into developing that policy."
Persia
smiled. "Good point."
"Anyway, a lot of
the new residents and grad students who work here part time are
female," continued Dr. Mendez. "Apparently, more women are
getting into the sciences these days. They come here and
scope
out the young, upwardly mobile permanent male staff for prospective
mates. I was certain one of those gold diggers would have
gotten
her claws into him by now. But, as usual, Will Green defies
logic."
Persia had a
pretty good notion what that statement meant. She herself
noticed
that there was a lot more to Will than what met the eye.
"Alright, now,"
said Dr. Mendez, "strip down to your skivvies, and we'll have a look at
you." * * *
Persia was elated
that her boss had kept her job open for her. Her landlord had
also been holding her apartment to the point of waiving last month's
rent. She got the feeling that the people from AARL had spun
a
sob story about her being on death's doorstep without actually going
into details. It didn't take long for things to return to
normal. At least, what passed for normal in Persia's
case.
Still, odd things had started happening to her about a week after she
returned to her humdrum life.
At the Y, she
found herself lifting more and more weight. She was even
adding
more repetitions. Even so, she couldn't seem to break a sweat
like
she usually did. It was starting to worry her. She
also
noticed that she could lift much more weight onto the dolly from her
delivery truck. One time, she actually lifted a vending
machine
that had started to tip over on a kid who had been shaking the machine
when he didn't get what he wanted. Luckily, he was in such a
funk
that he hadn't seen her do it. It was starting to scare
Persia a
little. She knew that she should report these goings on to
Dr.
Mendez, but she was afraid of what the doctor might find out.
The following
week held another surprise for her. As she was filling
machines
near a paper warehouse, one of the giant rolls of paper had gotten
loose and rolled toward her. She didn't realize what was
going on
until someone screamed at her to get out of the way. It was,
by
then, way too late. The impact of the one ton roll of paper
crushed the vending machines. Glass and plastic went flying
everywhere as a horrendous crunch reverberated throughout the
room. Persia found herself part way beneath the mammoth roll
of
newsprint. Still, it wasn't crushing her. In fact,
she
found that she could easily lift the roll off of her. When
the
workers found her, they were dumbfounded as to explain how she survived
without a scratch.
"Guess my
guardian angel is watching over me," she said. She made a
point
of sounding shaken, which wasn't difficult. Not because of
her
near brush with death, but because she knew why she wasn't
dead.
Guardian angels had no play in the matter whatsoever. It took
a
long time to persuade the newspaper company that she was not going to
sue. She certainly didn't want that headache after what she'd
already been through at AARL. Still, the newspaper insisted
on
paying her hush money to the tune of two hundred fifty thousand
dollars. She decided to give up, sign a legal affidavit and
take
the money.
Persia noted that
her old self would probably have milked the incident for all it was
worth, but then, she probably would have been a grease spot on the
floor of
the printing room, too.
The next week
that followed led to another shock. As she was refilling a
machine at the top of a high rise building, a disgruntled ex-staffer
chose that moment to wreak havoc on his former place of
employment. Unlucky for Persia, she was standing between him
and
and his former coworkers. Rather, it should be said, luckily
she
had been standing there. Deaths had been averted when bullets
from a semi-automatic military assault rifle bounced off of Persia and
embedded themselves harmlessly into the walls, ceiling and
floor.
Several windows were shattered, but no one had been hit.
The gunman's jaw
dropped in astonishment as he stood dumbfounded staring at
Persia. Persia decided to take advantage of his lapse and
walked
up to him. She slowly grabbed hold of the rifle barrel and,
before he could react, twisted it so that it pointed back at the
gunman. Then she quietly rolled her dolly to the elevator,
called
a car and left. When the elevator doors shut, the gunman
found
himself pounced upon by several angry former coworkers.
Persia was
sitting at home with her feet put up on the arm of the sofa.
She
had an ice pack on her head. Although she had no injuries per se,
she had one whopper of a headache. Now, she was convinced
that
she should see Dr. Mendez before her next scheduled
appointment.
First, however, she had to make a phone call. * * *
Will Green's nose
twitched as he watched an interesting turn of events. He had
been
doing studies of the effects of the omega isotope on living
tissue. Nine time out of ten, the cells mutated to the point
where they could no longer survive. Ten percent of his
trials,
however, remained the same in appearance. Their
function,
on the other hand, was amazingly different. The cells had an
amazing ability to repair themselves far above and beyond normal
cells. They extracted energy from food with very little waste.
Will was
carefully jotting down notes on his latest findings when the phone
rang. Will quickly finished up the sentence he was writing
and
dashed for the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Will, we need to
talk."
Will could tell
from the sound of Persia's voice that something was definitely
wrong. They had been dating on and off ever since she had
left
AARL, and he found that he could read her moods quite well.
"What's the matter?" he asked with concern. "Are you showing
any
abnormal symptoms? Should I get Dr. Mendez?"
"Will, I'm fine,"
said Persia. "Well, that is to say, I'm not experiencing any
of
the symptoms I'm supposed to be looking out for, but I think there's
definitely been a change."
"What kind of
change?" asked Will.
"It's hard to
describe," said Persia. "My energy has been really up lately,
and
I've been eating more food. More than I ever have.
I've
been getting stronger, too."
"And by stronger
you mean...," prompted Will.
"You know those
giant rolls of newsprint the Gazette uses to print its newspapers?"
asked Persia.
Will swallowed
hard. "Yeah."
"Well, one of 'em
rolled right over me," said Persia. "I wasn't even
hurt.
All I had to do was lift it."
"But...,"
stammered Will, "those things weigh a ton!"
"Tell me
something I don't know," quipped Persia. "Will, I'm
scared.
I don't know what's happening to me."
Suddenly, Will
grabbed his notepad and began reading through his past notes regarding
the studies of the surviving ten percent of living cells that were
exposed to the omega isotope. A cold feeling began to crawl
into
his stomach.
"Will," said
Persia, "what's wrong? You got silent all of a
sudden. It's
not a good silence, either."
"Where are you?"
asked Will.
"I'm at home,"
said Persia. "Why?"
"I'm coming over
there," said Will.
"Don't hide
things from me Will," said Persia. "Am I gonna be sick?"
"Just the
opposite, I think," said Will. "I'll explain when I get
there. There's something I want to show you."
It didn't take
long for Will to get to Persia's apartment. He was pacing up
and
down the living room looking tense.
"Please, stop
pacing Will," complained Persia. "I've got a big enough
headache
as it is."
"Sorry,"
apologized Will.
Persia was
perusing Will's notes from his latest research. Some of it
was
beyond her, but much of it she was able to puzzle out. "So,
you're saying I've become some kind of superhuman?"
"I'm not sure,"
said Will, "but from what you've told me, everything certainly matches
the research I've been following."
"Could this stuff
be made into some kind of medicine to help people?" asked Persia.
"I doubt it,"
said Will with a grim look. "Omega radioisotope is ninety
percent
fatal. If you gave it to one hundred people, ninety of them
will
die horribly painful deaths. Remember what happened to
Fosby. Not to mention, the stuff is exorbitantly expensive
and
is extremely unstable. It has a very quick half life."
"Half life?"
"The atomic
structure breaks down quickly into more stable, and more harmless,
material," explained Will.
"Then maybe all
this will work out of my system," said Persia hopefully.
Will shook his
head. "It would have done that two months ago if that was the
case."
"So, I've become
a freak of nature," sighed Persia. "Wonderful."
"You're still the
same Persia," offered Will. "Maybe there are physical
changes,
but you're still you. And it looks like the isotope hasn't
harmed
you in any way. According to Dr. Mendez. you're progressively
healthier now than you were when she first examined you."
"Yeah, but why
me?" asked Persia. "I didn't ask for this."
Will
sighed. "I wish there was something I could do, but there
just
isn't."
"I'm sorry,
Will," said Persia looking up at him. "I don't mean to be
such a
downer."
Will managed a
smile. "That's okay. You're entitled."
Persia felt she
needed a hug really badly. She stood, encircled her arms
about
Will's neck
and leaned her head against his chest. She could hear the
beating
of his heart. Will sighed again, but this was a sigh of
contentment, noted Persia. She closed her eyes for a few
moments
before she heard Will gasp. Persia's eyes snapped
open. For
some odd reason, the ceiling looked closer then usual. In
fact,
the tips of Will's ears were touching it.
Now what,
thought Persia to herself.
She risked a
glance downward and saw the floor was a a good three feet below
them. They were floating
"Wow," she
commented, "you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Will."
"I think,"
replied Will, "in this case, it's the other way around."
Persia wondered
exactly how she got them up in the air, and how she was going to get
them back down again. As soon as she thought about reaching
the
floor, they slowly began to descend.
"Uh...Persia?"
uttered Will.
"It's okay," said
Persia. "I think I'm controlling it."
"That's very good
to hear," said Will. "I'm not exactly fond of heights."
"Really?" said
Persia with a small smile. "Imagine that."
When their feet
touched the floor once more, Will breathed out in relief. His
nervousness made Persia laugh.
Will
smiled. "It's good to hear you laugh, Persia."
"You always know
how to make me laugh, Will," said Persia.
"I couldn't make
you laugh when you first started filling the vending machines at AARL,"
said Will.
"You weren't
being yourself, then," said Persia.
"You knew that
all along, didn't you?" asked Will.
Persia
nodded. "You're tough to read, but that was pretty clear."
The two
maintained their embrace.
"Will?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you stay
with me tonight?"
A pause.
"I'd be nuts not to." E N D |
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