Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Prototype: The Beginning

“Remember, Dr. Gallagher, these people are not scientists. They are possible donors, so try not to bore them with the facts.” The thin-framed, 26-year-old woman was straightening the tall, 53-year-old man’s collar.
“Right, thank you, Anita.” Dr. Gallagher tried to smile, but he was much too nervous even to do that simple thing. Instead, he quickly grabbed the handkerchief out of his chest pocket and shakily mopped the sweat off his glistening forehead. Anita frowned at the look of Dr. Gallagher’s disheveled gray hair. She tried to smooth it down, but thought better of it when she found her hand to be quite damp. The corners of her mouth turned down, and she tried to wipe the sweat off her hand with a paper towel nearby.
“Ok, turn this way.” Dr. Gallagher did as she asked. Anita took a step back to inspect her handiwork. Hmm, could be worse, she thought to herself. Many times, Anita had thoughts of perhaps getting a different job, but she was constantly reminded of how much Dr. Gallagher needed her as his secretary. The man was a complete mess. Brilliant, but a complete mess. Besides, they worked well together. The two tolerated each other very cordially. Dr. Gallagher had almost become a sort of father figure to Anita, and she did well to keep him socially in check. He was very grateful for her help.
Anita smiled reassuringly. “Well, do you feel ready?”
Dr. Gallagher took a deep breath. “Yes, I think so.”
“Alright, then go get ‘em, boss!” With a slight nudge from Anita towards the stairs, Dr. Gallagher straightened up and boldly walked passed the curtain onto the stage. As soon as Anita saw that Dr. Gallagher had made it to the front of the stage without injuring himself, she sat down on a small armchair backstage and crossed her legs.
Anita almost jumped in shock when the cell phone buzzed on the small table on her right. The phone vibrated loudly against the glass. Anita quickly picked it up and answered to keep it quiet. “Hello, this is Anita, secretary to geneticist Dr. Erwin Gallagher.”
A frantic male voice replied. “Hello, Anita. This is Dr. Shepherd. I’m afraid there is some serious trouble back at the lab.”
Anita became very worried. “What kind of trouble?” She bent over to see the stage. Dr. Gallagher was dabbing his forehead with his handkerchief.
“Something of extreme value and importance was stolen.” Dr. Shepherd sound reluctant, hesitant at best, to say what needed to be said.
“Please, sir, just come out with it! What has been stolen?”
“The Prototype.”
Anita’s eyes grew wide in a mixture of shock and horror. Dr. Gallagher had been working on that project for years, mostly in preparation for the creation of the prototype. Even his thesis in college was about experimental genetic mutation for the betterment of the human race. He had spent over half his life in preparation for that prototype and five years on the actual prototype. Now it was gone. She knew she would have to tell Dr. Gallagher immediately, but she dreaded it.
“Uh, Anita, there is more.”
“More? What more?” Anita was frantic.
“When the Prototype was stolen during the night, it seems as if it was…activated.”
“What?! Please tell me now that this is all one very cruel joke!” She tried to keep her voice hushed, but it was difficult.
“I’m afraid not, Anita. Of course, there is a possibility that I could be wrong, but all evidence points to that conclusion. The Prototype is missing, and it is alive. I’m very sorry, Anita.”
Anita’s tone was grave. “Ok, thank you, Dr. Shepherd.” She closed the phone, ending the call. Anita sat for a long moment in stunned silence. All that could be heard was Dr. Gallagher’s far-off voice on the stage. When Anita’s stupor was broken by the clapping and applause from the audience, she realized that Dr. Gallagher was finished and stood up with the cell phone still in her hand. Dr. Gallagher exited the stage with a smile on his face. It appeared as if he had done well, actually. He froze once he saw the grave expression on Anita’s face. His smile vanished.
“What’s wrong, Anita?”

No comments:

Followers