1 THE EXPERIMENT
8 YEARS AGO...
A scientist was working in his area in a large science laboratory, conducting research and experiments as he meticulously recorded every action he made. His phone continued to buzz, receiving numerous messages, but he was too preoccupied with what he was doing to pay more attention to it.
As he cautiously measured and mixed ingredients from each flask, his phone rang, taking him completely by surprise and causing him to spill the flask he was holding, which contained a dark liquid, into the cylindrical container he was mixing.
He grunts as he was only supposed to put a small quantity of liquid and fails to note the exact amount of volume he poured in the beaker.
When the scientist picked up the phone, his demeanor gradually changed dramatically. He fell into complete silence as he slid the phone away from his ears, leaving the phone call unfinished. A generally audible sob could be heard on the other end of the phone line but not too loud in volume.
After a few moments of staring into space, the scientist suddenly realized what he was doing. Those sleepless evenings spent performing research and experimentation over the preceding few weeks were all due to this one thing.
He reached for his book in one of his bookshelves and began tracing the pages with the tip of his index finger. He squinted his eyes to read even the smallest print, making sure not to miss any details while trying to look for something in particular.
"I'm almost there, I'm sure of it. Nothing seems to be missing, but nothing seems to be working," the scientist muttered under his breath. His brows furrowed and drew closer together as his eyes skimmed every word in the book as quickly as he could.
"Yes!" he celebrated as he double-tapped the text in the book with eagerness after discovering the item he had been searching for. His attention was drawn back to what he was doing without missing a vital element. He then ran through his cupboards where the chemicals were located and took the item he needed.
He resumed stirring the chemicals in the beaker, which he had mixed with a few more drops of the black liquid he had been pouring a short while before.
After scratching the measurement he had taken, he scribbled down a few more drops, excluding the liquid he accidentally poured and the other chemical he recently added.
A chemical reaction happened when the scientist poured a few more drops of the black liquid into the beaker mixed with the apparent chemical. A color transition from black to opaque and then clear occurred when he added the final drop of a transparent chemical.
The scientist continued checking the results under the microscope each time he added something until he got the right formula he had long wanted to achieve and been working on for the last few weeks. He quickly administered the potion into the dying mouse, locked up in a transparent cage, and then waited for a few more seconds to see what would happen.
When the scientist finished giving the elixir, the mouse yanked. He'd been muttering continually in the hopes that it would work.
A few seconds later, the mouse was back to its overflowing health, and he was thrilled to see how rapidly it had recovered. It had only taken less than a minute for the scientist to get his hopes up.
After enduring and suffering through weeks of restless nights and failures in performing research and experiments, the scientist was pleased with the results. He wasted no time and rapidly poured a few of his final experiments into a syringe and a few empty vial containers, then stowed them away in his bag.
The scientist received a second phone call, in which he informed the caller that he already had the elixir and would be there as soon he could.
Before running out of his workroom, the scientist took off his lab coat and put on his suit, slipping his phone into one of the suit's pockets. On his way out, he came across an apprentice looking for a chemical that another researcher had requested. "It's on my table," the scientist replied shortly before continuing to walk at a rapid pace ahead of him.
The apprentice hesitated, uncertain if he had been granted permission to enter his working area. Still, the scientist did not return his gaze and had already raced out of the laboratory. The apprentice waited a few minutes longer in case the scientist came back, but the other scientist had already requested him to go and retrieve the chemical.
On the fence, the apprentice went his way inside the room after several minutes of standing in front of the door, attempting to figure out if he was allowed to come inside after reading the "KEEP OUT" notice attached to the door. He took his time walking slowly, paying attention to his surroundings as he approached the table, trying to be careful and not to knock anything over.
The apprentice looked through the chemicals on the table and spotted three with no labels on them. Compared to the other two, one contains a partially full liquid container, which resulted from the scientist's previous tests procedures. He went through each container, but because there were no labels, he had no way of knowing which one was the correct one.
It had been 45 minutes when the mouse beside the table started to stiffen. The apprentice observed the mouse with curiosity as it progressively tweaked its body parts. He got startled when the door was suddenly opened by someone who asked him where the chemical was because the other researchers already needed it. He then took the container with the label he was supposed to get, which had been placed on one of the cupboards directly above the mouse.
"I got it," the apprentice said, bringing the beaker leveled to his head, allowing the other person to see it. He glanced at the chemical in his hand, double checking if he got the correct one, then shifted his gaze back to the mouse, pondering on what he had just witnessed.
The apprentice then ignored it after seeing that the mouse had returned to its normal behavior as if nothing had happened.
When the door closed, the mouse's eyes flared bright red for a few seconds before becoming dark again.
[¬º-°]¬ [¬º-°]¬ [¬º-°]¬
"Here," the scientist stated, looking agitated as he opened his bag, which was filled with vials and a syringe.
"Are you sure this is safe?" the physician asked in a low, troubled tone.
When the scientist expressed his dissatisfaction with the current situation, he did it with a tiny shake of his head and a moistening of his lips. "A few more research needs to be done, but I tested it on a dying mouse, and it was able to restore its strength," the scientist explained in a desperate tone.
Their faces were both flushed with nervousness as they made their way out of the doctor's office and into the elevator. The physician pressed the button going to the basement floor.
When the elevator doors opened, they walked straight into a room with the words "VVIP ROOM" written on the door. Along their way, a few kitchen staff members greeted them with a bow of their heads.
While putting on their protective clothing, a forensic pathologist passed behind them, pushing a stretcher with a corpse wrapped in a white cloth, and entered the room right next to them.
The scientist let out a squealing scream when the arm of the dead body slipped off the stretcher. He cleared his throat and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm-- I'm not used to d-ead bodies," the scientist stuttered, clearing his throat once more in between his words when the physician gave him an odd look.
When they had finished putting on their personal protective equipment, the physician grabbed the doorknob and took a deep breath, preparing himself before entering the room.
As soon as they walked through the door, the scientist took out the syringe from one of his pockets and tensely handed it over to the physician.
The physician made a shaky motion with his head. "You do it," he hesitated and passed the syringe to the scientist with his trembling hand.
Both of them were arguing about who should do the task.
"You're the physician," the scientist ended as he placed the syringe in the physician's hand.
The physician came to a complete stop and looked down at the syringe in his palm. "You know what, let's-- let's not..." the physician hesitated with a tiny, shaky motion in his head and showing a clear expression of nervousness on his face.
"Hey, listen," replied the scientist, attempting to regain his composure. "She's on the verge of death. If we don't do something, she will die very soon," worried the scientist. "This is the only hope we have left apart from the decision you have made," he added with a hint of pain and sadness in his voice.
A disturbed expression could be seen on the faces of both the scientist and the physician as they fell into silence.
"It's now or never," stated the scientist before facing the female patient, who was lying in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask on her face and several contractions attached to her. The physician followed his gaze.
They were in a room located at the hospital's basement, close to the morgue and the kitchen.
The physician served as the hospital's director, and the scientist was the lover of the female patient who got the virus, which makes her more likely to die as a result of her comorbidities.
In comparison to other VIP accommodations, the room was remarkably prepared. The equipment is completely new and in working order. They weren't attempting to hide her in any manner. They were simply preventing her condition from deteriorating.
The patient was in a coma for eight months after a car accident. The virus was still relatively new when she contracted one while confined to the hospital for her treatment. Since the virus was still new, there is no known cure for it at this time. They feel that putting her in the same room with an infected person or in an overcrowded setting, where there is a higher chance for her recovery to take longer, could be lethal for her case. They decided to give her and look for her own isolation room, where professionals are close in the event of an emergency medical situation, and a room where only a few people or potential hosts carrying the fatal virus can pass by. The room located on the hospital's lowest floor, between the mortuary and the kitchen, is the best option since it limits the virus's chance of further transmission.
The physician took another deep breath and uncapped the syringe before slowly infusing the medication into the IV tubing.
The female patient began twitching her body a few more seconds after the physician administered the medication into the IV drip.
"Alicia! Alicia!" the physician panicked, calling his daughter's name as soon as he noticed his daughter having convulsions. The scientist managed to calm the patient's father when he began to overreact caused by the loud beeping noises created by the devices monitoring his daughter's vital signs.
A few moments later, both the physician and the scientist were taken aback and felt relieved when the patient gradually began to feel more at ease. Her vital indicators have returned to normal, and the patient has regained consciousness. Her index finger moved as a sign of coming out of a coma.
