Chemical Spill
Julius Hampton was a brilliant chemist. He was, in fact, brilliant in all things, but he liked chemistry best. The order and symmetry of it called out to his logical mind in the beginning, but his brilliance reveled in the possibilities of the endless combinations, interactions and reactions of otherwise totally predictable elements.
Stewart Chemical allowed him great leeway in what he spent his time doing. The old man that had hired him was pedantic and dogmatic about the business and had held a tight rein on his ability to be creative. The greatest leap of insight the old fart had ever had was in recognizing the brilliance of Julius and hiring him as an intern right out of college.
The daughter, who took over the company upon his death, was a totally different person. Her innovative mind had allowed the stifled company to grow exponentially and she truly recognized, and more importantly utilized, her company assets. This was never more clear than when she made Julius head of research and development, gave him an almost unlimited budget and then got out of the way; content to market and profit from his genius, rather than try and control it.
Julius was no mousey science geek and had never had problems attracting pussy to his bed, but Adriana Stewart was an ice queen in every sense of the word. Tall, long legs, tight, trim and proportionally curvy, she screamed sensuality and promised sexual pleasures unknown, but she remained detached and unattainable... well, inaccessible at any rate, at least until he found the correct alchemy to thaw her out.
Hence his late night machinations in the lab, working on his latest passion, when Ronnie Fitzgerald, the clean up kid, disturbed him by dragging his cleaning cart, with broom and mop handles askew, through the narrow confines of the lab door. The kid was a potential walking disaster, especially in the delicate environment of the research lab. How they had not all been killed in a toxic spill or massive explosion because of this inept and clumsy kid was one of life's many, as yet, unanswerable questions.
Tired and frustrated Julius snapped at the youngster... "I have told you over and over again Ronnie... leave that cart in the hall. You don't need everything in the lab just to empty the trash cans and wipe the counters."
"Yes Sir Mr. Hampton. Sorry."
Ronnie reversed course and struggled to get the many armed cart back through the doorway with a maximum of clatter and confusion. It would have made for good comedy if it wasn't so real and disturbing.
Julius was done. He knew himself well enough to know that he would get no more work done tonight after this disruption of his concentration. He thought to himself as he shut down his computer, I will go grab a few hours of sleep and hit this again fresh in the morning. He could feel how close he was to a breakthrough but it evaded him, staying just beyond his grasp.
He knew it was cliché but he was working on the chemical attraction of the sexes, all in an effort to attain the, seemingly, unattainable. History was on his side, even though it was full of failures, it was also replete with examples of genius making great discoveries with the proper motivations. Adriana Stewart would be his willing sex toy... it was only a matter of time.
She would pay for her dismissive rebuffs of his advances and biting insults when she recognized his first desperate and ham handed experiments with pheromones. She laughed at his attempts, wrinkled her nose at the smell and claimed that she was gay... "Well," he thought at the time, "she just had not had the benefit of his company... he would 'straighten' her out."
Julius met Ronnie walking back through the door.
"I am going home for the night. DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING! Just empty the trash and get out."
"Yes Sir Mr. Hampton."
Ronnie watched the lab coat disappear behind the swinging door. "Fucking jerk." Came out softly, under his breath. He knew he was no great shakes compared to brainiacs like Mr. Hampton, but that did not make him a moron.
As usual, he had the room to himself and he took his time, looking at everything, wondering how most of it worked, and being careful, in his own way, not to disturb anything as he went about his specific duties.
There was more left out than normal. It was Friday so maybe the geeks figured to do some overtime geeking on Saturday early.
His attention was grabbed when he saw a tall water glass, with what was obviously water, sitting out on a counter. He gravitated to it, suddenly very thirsty. He knew it was verboten to touch anything but the garbage cans, but how could a clear glass of water be an issue.
He reached out and took the glass. It felt cool to the touch, which made his mouth want it all the more. He brought it up towards his mouth, and even in his thirsty state he noticed that it was not sloshing like water. His brain decided it was not water and over road his thirst, but before he could reverse the motion, an alarm buzzer went off in the room, a timer that Julius had set to tell him it was the top of the hour and time to go, that surprised Ronnie and caused him to jerk, sending the contents of the beaker, not water glass, splashing up over the edge and on to his face. Some got in his eyes, some in his mouth; the rest of the surprisingly thick but slick liquid covered his face.
He dropped the glass which, miraculously landed on the counter without breaking, which freed his hands to wipe his face. In the process of avoidance, he stumbled backward into another table, knocking other bottles and tubes, splashing some, on him, on the floor and on the counter. He rebounded, spitting and sputtering, eyes clenching and opening, hands pawing at his face and eyes, trying to wipe, only succeeding in mixing the different elements together.
What followed was classic pratfall comedy, knocking tables and shelves, ending with a face plant on the floor in a combined puddle of chemicals, both solid and liquid, some of the reactions causing puffs of gas, inhaled in panic.
Much as life on earth was supposed to start, Ronnie's gyrations created the perfect environment for the perfect combinations in the perfect proportions to be absorbed into the perfectly prepared container. Through mouth, eye and skin of face and hands, the mixture was absorbed into his body, along with gas and atomized spray into tissue and blood stream, mixing with even more chemicals.
Ronnie pushed himself up off the ground, thinking he should, by all rights be in incredible pain, but surprisingly unharmed. Never the less he made his way to the sink, wiping his face, smearing the concoction, unaware of it leaching into his skin, filtering some elements allowing others, constantly redefining the end result.
He turned the water on and washed his face and hands wiped the residue from his cloths, starting another critical process of chemical reactions as liquid contacted solid, breaking down and reformulating on its way to contacting the underlying skin where certain parts are absorbed and other parts are filtered out and discarded.
