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Suzanne adjusted the focus on her electron microscope and watched two sets of cells swim into focus. "Okay," she muttered. "Let's see if they're happy." She set the cell electromanipulator to deliver a quarter second .02 microvolt pulse at 400 hertz and hit the actuation switch, making the cells dance.
The phone rang before she could check her results. She snatched it up. “Hello.”
“How’s it going, gorgeous?”
Marcus. Pleasant warmth swept through her as she remembered their last night together before he left town to meet with investors.
“Still banging away,” she said, thinking of how he had hit all her pleasure zones. "If I can isolate the regenerative salamander gene and fuse it to mouse cells, I can replicate it in humans."
"If we show them regrown mouse limbs they'll be beating our doors down," Marcus said.
The unit beeped, demanding her attention. “I have to check this last cycle. I think I’m getting close.”
She switched the cell electromanipulator to its high voltage range, set the output to deliver a one second 500 volt pulse at one megahertz and hit the switch. The two cell sets drifted toward the center of the field, then stopped to key her observations into her laptop.
Dipole activity from a one second, 500 volt, one megahertz pulse. Cells approach field concentration, then stop. Increased field strength could enhance attraction.
She set the instrument to its maximum setting; a 20 microsecond, 3 kilovolt pulse at one megahertz. The cells jumped toward the field center and aligned themselves into chains. "Close, but no cigar,” she muttered.
She tried different voltages and varying pulse lengths. Each time the cells aligned, then drifted apart. "Come on,” she said to the electrode setup. “You mean to tell me you'll get close, but you don't want to kiss?" She keyed more notes into her computer.
Maximum three kilovolt setting produced pearl chains. No arcing. Stronger field strength could induce breakdown of cell membranes so adjacent pores can form channels allowing an exchange of cytoplasm, leading to a hybrid. The problem lies in the field strength, but the power needed exceeds the limitations of the instrument.
She had the mouse and salamander cells in the same media and they'd formed chains. How could she get more field strength?
She studied the electromanipulator. A Celltron 3000, the most powerful instrument on the market. After rummaging through her desk drawers for a screwdriver, she unplugged the unit and broke the silver label covering one of the screw holes, ignoring the warning.
WARRANTY VOID IF REMOVED.
REFER SERVICE TO A QUALIFIED CELLTRON TECHNICIAN.
A technician wouldn't give her the field strength she needed. She removed the rest of the screws until she had the back panel off. A schematic had been glued to the inside. A prominent red label stated:
DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE
She noticed the taps of the transformer added up to a total of 3500 volts. What were the extra 500 volts for?
Suzanne made a few calculations, then cut one of the wires and reattached it to the last transformer tap. According to the diagram, now it would put out 3500 volts. After plugging it back in, she set the instrument for its maximum setting, a 20 microsecond, 3.49 kilovolt pulse. She looked up at the cells on her monitor, wiped her sweaty palms on her lab coat and hit the switch.
Nothing happened.
"Shit!" She slammed her palm down on the bench and heard a buzz followed by a loud snap, then a blinding flicker sent slivers of glass flying. A second flash came on the end of the first, its sizzling lance staggering her backward. White hot fire arced into her brain. Smaller bits of glass peppered her face.
Her hand flew to her right eye, clawing at the pain. She knocked the offending sliver free and stared at it glistening amidst a tiny spot of blood on the end of her finger. Smelling acrid smoke, she looked up through the blur and saw a thin black trail spewing from the instrument. She yanked the power cord from the wall. Clutching her damaged eye, she went in search of help.
––––––––
The brightness from the doctor's orthoscope made Suzanne's eye water, but she felt safe in his care. Dr. Rajah was City Hospital's leading eye specialist.
"You don't know how lucky you are," the short balding man said with an Oxford accent. "It's superficial. Severed a few capillaries, but otherwise barely nicked the surface."
She blinked, feeling a scratching sensation beneath her eyelid. "My eye will be all right?"
"Expect some blurring for a few days, but it should heal quickly. Tilt your head back please."
He pulled her eyelid up and applied a few drops of something oily, then pressed a piece of gauze over her eye and taped it in place. "I'll remove the patch in a couple of days. Get these filled.” He scribbled out a prescription. “Two drops three times a day after I remove the bandage. The pills will kill the pain and help you sleep. Go home and rest. Come back on Friday."
"But I have to work..."
He scowled, his bushy eyebrows V'ing in the middle of his forehead. "No work. Your eye has been traumatized, not to mention the shock to your system. Besides you're run down."
"But..."
“Give your eye some time to heal,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “You'll be back at it soon enough."
––––––––
Following his advice, she went home, took her medication and slept through the night and part of the next day until a far-off ringing woke her. She drifted toward waking, absently rubbing at the nagging itch in her eye. Pain startled her fully awake.
She opened her one good eye, confused by the gauze covering the one that itched, then the previous day's events rushed into her mind. The phone rang again.
She grabbed it in the middle of the next ring. "Hello?"
"Hey, babe, it's Marcus. I just heard what happened. You all right?"
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. She'd slept for fourteen hours. "Doctor said I was lucky. He ordered me to take a few days off."
“I should be back in a few days. You sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“OK. I’m headed into an investor meeting. Call me if you need anything. Love you.”
“You too.” She put the receiver down and gently rubbed at the scabs on her face, aching to scratch her bandaged eye.
Her head thumped when she crawled out of bed. Each excruciating pulse ended with a dull throb beneath her bandage. Her stomach did a slow roll. She went to her dresser and stared at her face with her one good eye, her hand stroking countless scabs.
She wasn't going to work looking and feeling the way she did. Her eye itched to the point of burning. She fought the urge to scratch and took more pain killers. When they kicked in, she forced herself to drink some juice and fell back to sleep.
The next forty-eight hours were a blurry, confused cycle of sleeping, awakening to the itch, and taking more sedatives. Each time Suzanne awoke, the itch burned more. Her stomach felt queasy, making her vomit twice. Thinking that the drugs and lack of food sickened her, she stopped taking her medication.
As its effects lessened, she roamed the house trying to clear her thoughts. Fuzzy images flashed through her mind. Mud. Worms. Insects. A craving she couldn't fathom, drove her to the kitchen. Peering into the refrigerator, she spotted a package of raw hamburger. Its cold greasiness satisfied her craving.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Most of the scabs had gone. Smooth spots shone where the skin had healed. The itch in her bandaged eye still nagged.
No more. The patch was coming off. Her eye needed to breathe. She closed the door, and worked by the night light, tugging at the bandage, keeping her eye closed while pulling away the last of the gauze. The cool air hitting her eye felt good, but her eyelid felt as if someone had placed a rock on it.
She concentrated on relaxing her facial muscles, then let her injured eye drift open. Everything blurred. She forced her eye open wider. Still fuzzy. Closing it again, she opened her good one. The night light, sink and mirror came into sharp perspective. She opened her right eye again. Still blurred.
She reassured herself that it needed time to adjust. Opening it fully, she stared directly at the night light. It looked like a thick layer of gauze covered it.
She leaned closer to the mirror and reopened her good eye. A thick jellylike mass had formed over her injured eye. The skin surrounding it looked smooth and discolored. She thought the growth might be mucous, but it looked thick and clear. Beneath the surface her pupil looked like the glazed eye of a fish on ice at the market. The skin on the nape of her neck twitched, then she vomited.
––––––––
"Aside from the itch, my stomach's been nauseous." The cold leather padding on the examination table chilled Suzanne through its thin paper covering. She looked up at Dr. Rajah's obscure outline through the film of her eye as he probed its edges. She could barely see the light reflecting off his bald head.
"The skin around it is smoother too," he said. "It's a good thing you called." He stepped back, crossed his arms and wrinkled his bushy eyebrows. "I'm going to remove it."
"I don't think..."
"I have a laser," he said, patting her arm. "A little numbing and a few strategically placed strokes should take care of it."
She let out a shaky sigh. "I'll do anything to be rid of it."
Five minutes after applying drops that deadened the itching, Dr. Rajah had Suzanne sitting straight in a chair, her head clamped. She saw a hazy red dot and sensed the doctor's movements around the edge of her eye, but felt no pain. After feeling a brief tugging, her vision cleared. A wave of relief filled her, then a rose colored tinge washed over her vision. The doctor dabbed gently at it, a surprised expression on his face. "Amazing!"
"What?"
"It must have been a secondary infection, but beneath the mass your eye has healed perfectly. I've never seen one mend this fast. I want to run a few more tests, just to be safe." He placed the gelatinous mass in a small container. "I'll call you with the results."
He put fresh gauze over her eye and taped it, then motioned for her to stand. She leaned forward and grabbed at her stomach. Butterflies.
"Stomach still bothering you?" he asked.
She nodded.
He jotted a prescription on his pad. "Dramamine. Take them for a week or so."
"Can I go back to work?"
"Maybe in a couple of days.”
––––––––
Two days later, the itch in her eye still nagged, but it had diminished to a small discomfort and the uneasiness in her stomach had dwindled to a tiny flutter. Anxious to see if her vision retained its clarity, she went to the bathroom to remove the bandage. To Suzanne’s delight, other than a tiny red line surrounding her eye, it looked clear. She could go back to the lab and pick up the remnants of her experiment.
––––––––
She expected to find the lab in the same disarray she left it in, but the mess had been cleaned up. A brand new Celltron sat in the place of the old along with a new electrode stand. Marcus. How sweet!
She threw herself into her research, poring over her notes, setting up the equipment and formulating an approach that didn’t need such a high field strength. Maybe a different media, she thought, or adding a cross-polarized magnetic field.
Days passed as she worked through formulas and theories. Other than a craving for raw eggs and rare hamburger, she felt great. The redness around her eye disappeared and her vision stayed normal.
On the first day of her new fusion trials, she received a call from Dr. Rajah.
"The results of your tests have come in," he said with his Oxford accent. "I'm a bit puzzled."
She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Can you come in this afternoon around two o'clock?"
"Sure."
"Drink as much water as you can before you come. We want to run a sonogram."
––––––––
She found a tall, lanky man whose nametag identified him as Dr. Jansen with Dr. Rajah. They had a sonogram unit wheeled into the room with two small monitors.
"There's no need to be upset," Jansen said, as if reading her mind. "We want to check out your internal organs and circulatory system."
He wheeled the sonogram unit next to the examining table so Suzanne could watch. She held her breath while he guided the probe around her breasts and neck. When it passed over her abdomen, a large mass came into view. He hit a few buttons to magnify the image. A long, curved body with a long tail and an elongated head swam into focus. Four tiny clawed feet scrabbled for purchase inside an egg-shaped sac.
