Bright Triad: a novel by Daniel Zeigler

Author:Daniel Zeigler [Zeigler, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

18

July 2, 10:17 p.m., Bright Triad suite

“I don’t know, man. Just don’t feel right. Now leave me alone,” came a flat voice from the figure on the bed. It was Kip Crandall, but without the attitude. He faced the wall, his back to Wes Wimber. Wes stared at him, chewing his lower lip.

“You’re still adjusting to the medication. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Wimber tried to sound convincing. “Hey, want to see what’s on television?”

“What did you put in that syringe, man? Downers? Never liked those. Or did you inject me with some virus or brain-eating amoeba or something?”

“No, I promise. It’s just that messenger RNA stuff I told you about. You’ll get used to it. And it wears off quickly.” Wimber paused, thinking. “How about we turn on the TV and see if there is some cage fighting to watch? Sound good?”

“Right now, a round kick to your face is the only thing I feel like doing,” Kip growled. “You don’t get it, man. I feel nasty, so I might just act nasty. Don’t encourage it.”

“All right,” Wimber replied. “If you need anything, call me on the internal line. I’ll be in the lab down the hall.”

Kip rolled over to look at Wimber, his face ashen and corpse-like, his eyes slits. “Wes, I swear. If I don’t feel better tomorrow, I’m going to demand a change of therapy. I’m warning you. I don’t have to put up with this.”

Without another word, Wimber exited the room. A scowling Vanessa Van Daalin was standing in the hall. Wimber knew she didn’t dare come in and risk Crandall’s abuse. “Well?” she whispered.

Wimber held his finger to his lips, then motioned with his head for Van Daalin to follow him to the lab. When they were safely inside, he spoke without looking at her. “He doesn’t look great. But it’s probably just his brain adjusting to the new chemistry.”

“Are you going to call Dr. Baxter and Dr. Vickers?” she demanded. “You know they’d want to hear. Besides, they’ll see for themselves tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Wimber answered quickly. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

“It had better be!” Van Daalin shot back. “Our careers are on the line. Just don’t ruin my life, Wim. Excuse me, Wes. I’ve worked way too hard and come way too far to have you destroy my career.”

“Just shut up, Vanessa!” Wimber said, his face red. “I’ve worked pretty hard, too, remember? We win or lose together.”

“Oh, great,” she said. “I win or lose with a loser.”

The two postdocs stared at each other for several tense seconds. Van Daalin softened first. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. But what are you going to do, Wim?”

“I’m going to start by double and triple checking tomorrow morning’s formulation,” he said. “I’m going to run a qPCR to quantify all the mRNAs, make sure everything is right. We’ll give him the regular dose in the morning. Then, if Vickers or Baxter order me to dial it down and use the reduced protocol tomorrow evening, fine.

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