Chapter One - Making Observations
Jeremy loved a good disease. From an early age, he was fascinated by how diseases were transmitted, even 'volunteering' himself through exposure to catch everything from the common cold in grade school to Malaria while he was on a study-abroad trip in Central America while in college. To most people, that made him rather an odd-duck, but in reality, he just had an insatiable passion for pathogens.
That very passion had led him to a ten year stint at the CDC, studying virulent diseases from H1N1 to Ebola, as well as a reputation for being what his colleagues called 'The Bug Whisperer'. Ground-breaking research and development had also brought him accolades in the field and he eventually left government after being recruited into a job he just couldn't refuse at a private think tank located in a very non-descript industrial park in flyover country. Describing it that way didn't really do it justice. Located next door to an insurance office, the casual visitor or delivery driver would see nothing but a reception desk with one office door behind, perhaps a sole-proprietor and his secretary.
"Good morning Sarah." Jeremy said, walking in through the unmarked door and greeting the brunette at the table.
"Would be if I'd got some sleep last night." Sarah replied, rolling her eyes.
"Cory again?" Jeremy grimaced, trying to keep up the small talk.
He wasn't a very skilled conversationalist. Too many hours spent studying and reading through school and not enough time spent partying or dating, he realized.
"I ended up having to bail him out of jail again last night. We didn't get out of there until about three in the morning."
"That sucks. I know how that goes. I spent most of the night going over notes on the vector possibilities for our new project."
Sarah stared at him blankly.
"I'll buzz you through." She said.
Shit, there I go again, Jeremy thought as he walked through the office door. Why can't I talk to women?
The office wasn't really an office. The back wall was an impressive-looking stainless steel elevator with a biometric hand scanner. He placed his palm on the platform.
UNRECOGNIZED.
A small beep preceded the words. Two more attempts finally resulted in a green light and a different message.
CONFIRMED - Please wait.
Jeremy spent the wait considering alternative paths his conversation with Sarah could have taken. Anything but disease vectors, he thought. The slide of the doors broke him out of his reverie and he stepped inside and waited for the doors to close. There were no buttons. For the first few years, this had deeply disturbed him, but the rationale was that the elevator only had two destinations, lab and office, no selection needed. As the doors whispered shut, he felt the all-too familiar sinking feeling as the stainless steel box plunged who knows how far into the ground.
There were about ten other employees with access to the lab areas, but none of them were to be seen as he walked to his personal office and workspace. The rest were pretty much versions of himself, buried in computer screens and lab equipment. He felt a little humorous pity for Sarah if they were all as bad at talking to a woman as he was.
PROJECT CP12
It didn't really mean anything, as far as he knew, but it was his project. In a nutshell, he was trying to develop a virus that would suppress or amplify production of certain pre-defined chemicals in the brain. If serotonin was low, it could increase it and vice-versa. Ideally, many mental illnesses could be regulated if certain chemicals could be balance. He could have gone on for hours and hours about his theories, but they were all trade secrets and even others in the lab were mostly in the dark, just as he was in the dark about their projects.
He was ready for a new trial and was anxious to get started. He didn't like using lab animals, but he mitigated the guilt in his mind by doubling-down on the research to make things right. Success wasn't yet at hand, but he lost a minimal amount of subjects.
Oddly enough, even with the excitement of the test, he found himself somewhat distracted. A few weeks back, during reviews, he had been introduced to a new scientist at the lab, the first in his time there. Lauren was blonde and beautiful, and above all else sharp and articulate. Something seemed to sparkle in her eyes when she spoke and he found himself looking forward to the few words they shared over the course of a day. Unlike Sarah, she showed a true interest in what he had to say, and the reverse was true as well. Anyway, he realized it was time to put distractions aside.
The morning was spent in tedious review of the figures and the analysis of the samples. He had been replicating and altering the virus for years, going down uncounted dead-ends and tangents, and today's was just another in a long line of tests. Maybe I'll see her at lunch, he thought, distracted again.
_____
Lauren was in the lunch-room when he arrived. He picked up a meal (usually prepackaged catering) and went to sit down. There was only one table, so he pulled up across from her and sat down.
"Jeremy." She said formally.
"Lauren." He responded, trying to sound like anything other than what he felt.
"You're running a test today, right?" She asked, putting down her e-reader to direct her blue eyes at him. He felt like he was going to fall into them.
"Uh, yeah." He said, stumbling on the words. "I'll probably administer the pathogens to the set late this afternoon."
There wasn't a great deal they could exchange beyond generalities, since the work was so secretive, but at least it was conversation.
"Not getting anywhere myself." Lauren said glumly. "I think I just hit a dead-end and will have to backtrack somewhat."
"Well, the next few days will tell me if I'm in the same boat." Jeremy confided. "I'll probably stay late and start some preliminary behavioral tests."
"You should stop in sometime." She said, smiling at him. "We seem to be the only ones in the office most nights, especially after seven or so."
A less socially awkward man might have picked up on this, or numerous other signals over the past few weeks. Jeremy was not that man.
"I'll see about authorization." He responded.
Following another ten minutes of mostly technical discussion, Lauren packed up her items and headed out the door, followed by Jeremy's eyes. Even with her conservative clothes and professional demeanor, you could see the body. Tall, athletic and curvy. Something Jeremy had always considered way out of his league.
The test vials were ready and it was already getting late when he started the trial. Each of three cages held five mice, two males and three females. One by one he administered the correct dose, documenting the order, as each animal was marked for quick identification. For the next two hours, he monitored them, checking for any immediate adverse reactions before finally calling it a night.
Passing Lauren's lab, he saw the light on and almost rang the buzzer. Almost.
_____
"Outbreak modeling."
That was the phrase the next morning that got him buzzed into the office by Sarah. Why couldn't he avoid that? He had even taken up watching sports, having seen a team logo on her computer wallpaper at one point. Unfortunately, he ended up getting tied up in player statistics, which also got him buzzed through.
Like a kid on Christmas, Jeremy resisted the temptation to fast-walk to the lab to start his observations. He would directly observe and at some point would review the overnight camera footage to see how the experiment was progressing.
The first cage was uninteresting. One male was in the corner sleeping, while the other male was copulating with one of the females. The other females were asleep in the far corner, huddled together. The second cage was similar, though one male seemed to be moving between all three females, which was somewhat odd. The last cage was the kicker. One male and the three females were asleep in the corner and the second mail was laid out, obviously dead.
Jeremy reached in through the protective glove built into the side of the cage and inspected the mouse. It was definitely dead and stiff. He followed the protocols to remove the body for autopsy and sat back down at his desk to document his results in the computer system. Overall, good. Just one fatality from fifteen subjects, and not enough data yet to determine if that death was caused by the pathogen he had introduced into its system.
Time flew as he worked on the behavioral tests, designed to determine if the subjects' brain chemistries had been altered. He could test through dissection, but he tried to avoid that at all possible. First he wanted to see if their behaviors had changed. Though normally he didn't observe quite so much copulation, he wasn't overly interested. Mice will be mice, right?
