" You will be safe, I promised, son," a man's voice said. His hands were holding a small square-shaped plate. The image was blurred. Pierre barely saw it.
" This will hurt, but it will cure you." a man's voice.
( Schkk! )
" Urghh " a scream after a short pulse.
" Sweetheart, you will be okay " a woman's voice whispered, she was very close to him as he could feel her breath. After that, everything became dark.
…
" It succeeded! " His father's voice.
" This is a breakthrough, dear," His mother said.
" With this tiny chip, we can cure the Alzheimer's disease." His father said to his mom.
…
Another flashback came in.
( A child crying )
Pierre was crying in his mother arms, where he looked at his father
" Please … spare us" his father's shaking voice was pleading.
In front him was a group of men, all wore helmets, carrying guns. One of them pointed the gun to his father kneeling down.
" We have received an order, professors, nothing personal" one of them started to speak, looking like he was the leader.
" From who? " his father asked.
" Someone who is really big." the helmet man replied.
"Boss, shall we (hands movement) before getting job done. " a man with a skull tattoo behind him said. Then followed by the rest yelling.
(....)
Bang!
Bang!
"Why do we keep this boy?" one man asked.
" This boy is our client's property now." the boss replied.
…
" Mom! " Pierre shook himself up.
That dream was so real, just like it had happened yesterday. Tears wrapped around my eyes.
On his right hand, his smartwatch kept alerting him of a high cortisol level, telling him that he was under stress or fear. He shut its alarm. The watch displays at 1:30 PM. Apparently, he fell asleep after a huge portion of the calamari, which he had for lunch.
he shook himself up, sat on a sofa in my office, trying to settle his mind, erase all the bad moments and thoughts from the dream.
" It had already passed, " he said to himself.
After a huge portion of calamari, glucose and energy surged over the body. His body was still drowsy. Eyes half-opened. Slower brain function. The watch is still blinking to remind me about high cortisol levels. So, he tried to stand up, take a deep breath, and walk around his room, looking outside, while recalling memories during lunchtime.
—
(Canteen — At lunchtime)
At the canteen, not many people gathered yet since it had just opened. Fresh fried Calamari was out with a portion of pommes. Its smell was so good and his stomach kept growling.
He sat alone, as usual, at a counter seat where one can see the view of the Baltic sea and enjoy the meal at the same time.
While enjoying his calamari, some colleagues greeted him, nodded their heads to him. Not many would come and sit beside.
"Alone again, boss" a woman's voice from behind.
"..."
" You should be more social. " the woman continued.
She was his assistant, and the FRI chief scientist, Elena Ornstein. She was smiling while Pierre turned back to her. Her bright skin reflects his eyes. Her vibrant blue eyes were fascinating. The two once worked together on body function at cryogenic level. Her works on synthesizing cryogenic substances and cryopreservation protocol were marvelous.
Three years ago, she was appointed to supervise Pierre when he was new here. She was very kind and humorous. Now, we were in the same position but he got a little extra. He chose her to be his assistant, and felt like swapping a role, as he was now her superior. Pierre did not prefer people addressing him as boss, since the hierarchy at work was out of his interest. But she would occasionally tease him by addressing him as boss. Usually, she would come at his office and call him for lunch then the two had lunch together. Otherwise, she sat with her group of colleagues.
" Someday" He replied to her, while she was holding a food tray, barely seeing what for lunch.
This time she had someone accompany her. As Pierre's eyes glanced to a person, a woman, standing beside her, she began to introduce
" This is Dr. Scholz, Dr. Dianne Scholz, she worked at the engineering section, our new engineering member. Elena explained.
A woman with long straight purple hair, stepped in front. She had bright hazel brown eyes.
Pierre stood up, " Pierre Therma, nice to meet you, Miss Scholz " He greeted her.
" Prof. Therma, he is a senior researcher here, and the director of this institute" Elena said.
" just temporary director " Pierre corrected her.
Both women were laughing.
" Dianne Scholz, called me Dianne, my pleasure to meet you, Prof. Therma " Dianne greeted back
" Just Pierre, and welcome to FRI institute. " Pierre replied.
" Wanna join us, Pierre?" Elena asked.
" Take your time, thank you" He replied to Elena softly.
"We will have a welcome party for Dianne, tomorrow, don't forget." Elena said with a strengthened tone.
"Noted" He replied
She reminded me of her email this morning about the welcome party. Pierre wondered whether she had prepared a speech draft for him.
After both women went further, Pierre saw they were sitting with other colleagues, he returned sitting down and enjoyed his remaining calamari. Upon returning to his office, the high fat and starch contents made him feel drowsy. So, he laid down on a sofa, fell asleep.
The watch stopped blinking when he finished recalling the lunchtime. The cortisol level was back to normal. His head was settled. Brain functions recovered. He sat down on his desk, opened a locked folder, inside opened profiles cards: Zimmerman, Ornstein, Weissmann, Feta, … and Scholz. Four cards were crossed with an X-mark while the only last one with the name "Markus Scholz" left unmarked. A glimpse of smile appeared on his face while he was murmuring
"...Dianne Scholz…"
As he backed to his laptop, the moment of joy was waiting. On the panel, two messages,
" Success! "
" Ready to synthesize (Y/N) " ,
were showing, and waiting for the next command. His eyes open-wide with joy. Finally, after a month of work, a week of failures, he would bring himself out of this loop. The molecular structure of PX-19 was now stable.
"At last !!" He said to himself, with happiness.
A few moments later, he entered the next command to have the machine list all requirements.
It was possible to just request for synthesis from his terminal. But this would leave a record or log in the institute server, which he would want to avoid. So, he decided to gather all ingredients by himself at the supply unit, on the right-wing. With this, and his authority, altering the machines there took much less effort. His jacket was now on, all ingredients data were copied to his watch, which had now multiple green-light blinkings, indicating a high-level of happy substances flushing over his body. Now it was time for the PX-19.