Echos - Part One

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but loneliness is built into the soul. Nothing quite compares to living on your own, day after day, the conversation bleeds from the unaccompanied walls as you talk yourself into another sleep. You long for television to steal a conversation, at least that would mean you could long for something else. But what to do when there is nothing on, or you’ve already seen it all? I could watch a repeat and have the same conversation I’ve had a thousand times before. Maybe this time I’ll come to another conclusion? But how can I, I only know how to be me? And when it all comes down to it, shouldn’t that be enough?

*******************

Dr Emmerich walked solemnly around, as was his habit around 2am. He rarely saw his bed let alone slept in it. His time was too precious to ‘waste unconscious, not improving tomorrow’. He had been watching his team working over the past weeks. His hand picked little group beavering away performing his every whim, putting a little something of themselves in there. After all he didn’t chose them because they were morons, he chose them because; next to him, they were the best in the world and he wouldn’t work with anyone else. It was somewhat ironic he thought. For all the lack of human contact he had, even with his own team, he felt part of a family, part of something important. Walking around the bare walls and harsh labs (he didn’t allow any kind of ‘distractions’ outside of their rooms) he could feel his social graces disintegrating. Once he could light up a room, people hung on his words, dripping from those full lips like a fountain of youthful knowledge. But the more he got buried in work, the more he was disappointed by those around him who couldn’t or wouldn’t understand his passion and so the more he cut himself off from them. They were no more than an interruption to what he considered the most seminal work the human race would ever know.

As he entered the main lab he surveyed the controlled chaos that reigned over everything. Computer screens hummed and processors beeped and scratched as they performed their heavy workloads for the night. If nothing else at least there was never silence. Something was always buzzing or fizzing in the background and if Rory was working you could usually hear the thump of whatever poison bled from his headphones. Emmerich would have banned it, but he knew it drove the lad on, and that was more important that his idiosyncrasies. Circling the desks he noticed a tissue on the floor by one of the workstations. Fury raged in his blood, how could someone be so painfully stupid? He bent down, picking up the tissue between forefinger and thumb. He held it with minimal regard like a father would a newly filled nappy. Turning his nose up to it he casually walked to the wall and tripped the high emergency alarm, sending the entire complex in a flurry of low red light and imperious sirens calling out into the nothing.

*******************

His ears rang from the alarms as Rory bolted up, ‘What the fuck?’ he wearily popped out. Blinking he slipped from his bed, his creased and wet boxers sticking to the sheets. ‘Bloody heating’ he quipped changing into a fresh pair and pulling on a t-shirt and board shorts. The urgency began kicking in as he left the room and the red lights flashed across his eyes. He began running towards the main lab, getting there before everyone else having the only living quarters on this level. As he walked trough the sliding door he found Dr Emmerich standing there calm as can be, hand over the cancel button.

“What the fuck is going on dude? Press the damned button!” Rory called out over the alarms.

“I will turn it off when I see fit, when everyone has gotten here.” Emmerich said back barely audible.

Rory was about to go over when the rest of the group appeared through the door. At this, Emmerich flipped the switch and the alarms finally ceased. With the lighting returned to the normal blue tinted wave they all stood there admiring each other sleepwear with a confused glare.

“What’s wrong, has something happened?” Bentley chimed in.

“Yes Dr Emmerich, what is the problem?” Maurice asked standing puzzled with lost abandon.

“What is the problem?” Emmerich replied, “The problem, is me walking around a multi-million dollar lab, surveying life changing experiments, only to find the remnants of someone’s festering illness, in tissue form, on the lab floor distilling its germs onto everything we worked on yesterday! That is the problem!”

“Dude, you got us up for a tissue?” Rory yawned, ‘I’m going back to bed”

Rory turned to leave shuffling his feet on the cold floor when the Doctor pressed another button locking the room’s only exit.

“Hey man, seriously, what are you playing at?” Rory protested.

“Yes a tissue! We can’t afford to mess these experiments up. We are working on the most delicate science known to man and we can’t allow even the tiniest thing to effect our samples or we might as well pack it in and you can go home.” Emmerich put sternly. He was never a man to mix words and definitely had no fear in telling people exactly how he felt.

“It was mine, I apologise Dr Emmerich, it must have slipped from my pocket when I left.” Bentley admitted. “I’ll be sure to be more careful in future”

“I know you will, because if you don’t, we’ll all be leaving.” Dr Emmerich said to him. “Now, as everyone is awake, I want you all to redo this cell sample and have this contaminated mess disposed of.”

“You can not be serious?” Rory said in disbelief.

“When am I not serious Mr Henderson? Now stop complaining and get it done.” Dr Emmerich ended the argument and proceeded to leave the room, unlocking the door from his remote. “I will be in here at six to inspect the new batch, so don’t disappoint me, you know how I like a good start to the day.

With Dr Emmerich’s dry humour signalling his exit the group dispersed a little into the cool lab room. As they wandered towards the desks they would occupy should it be normal hours and resigned themselves to the task ahead.

“Nice to see that first impression is holding true, I would hate to feel bad because I thought he was a arsehole.” Rory sniped jokingly.

“You always have to lower yourself with your choice of language, don’t you Rory?” Maurice injected nestling a group of test tubes into their holders. “Why cant you just respect the Doctors wishes and we can get this done.”

“Dude, it’s not like I don’t respect the doc, I just value a bit of shut eye you know? Surely not too much to ask, it’s not like the tissue actually going to have made a difference?”

At this point Bentley had just removed a set of test tubes from a machine deftly resembling a microwave. They had changed from a previously clear colour to becoming slightly cloudy.

“It would seem that he was right however” he chimed in casually, ”The specimen has germs in it, it would seem.” He held the tray up for the others to see.

“Jesus, don’t know what pisses me off more?” Rory smirked unable to withhold his remise.

Without having said a word, Sketch had wandered in and out the conversation from the corner of the room. She playfully let the words mix around her head, as playful as you can be when you are analysing every subtle nuance, every inflection and emotional attachment formed between the words being said and the souls being carrier to them.

“I imagine the being awake during the night tending to the graces of someone three times your elder and more so your intellectual is what sits ill with you Rory” she imparted in her soft, but unconfident tone.

“Ah you would state the obvious hun, but maybe I’m just cranky in the mornings?” Rory came back at her.

“Lets just get this done and get back to bed so we can get some form of sleep before the morning, cause we have a lot to do” Bentley said taking lead.

Maurice and Rory both gave a customary passing reply but Sketch remained silent continuing with her task as they gave in to the nights punishment.

*******************

Dreams have always been interesting. An unconscious declaration of things that often not even the dreamer will realise. Sometimes static and rooted inside, they can also drift and swirl like vivid paint strokes from the most masterful of artists. But then there are the nightmares. The anti-dream brings the fear, the sweat, or the pain out from the deepest regions of the mind. Arguably the nightmares are better. They are stronger and leave the greater mark. When was the last time you woke up shaking from a dream? Dreams leave you warm, but nightmares leave you stifled.

I opened my eyes at 8am as usual. Blinking, I arched my back a little then sat up and regarded my surroundings, left and right then lifted my arms spinning my hands, closing and opening the fingers. The body really is a remarkable piece of work. I have often considered in my free time what a conversation with it’s maker would be like. I pulled my particular feat of engineering around and placed my feet to the floor. The coolness of it struck my nerves as I began to stand. I walked over to my closet and pulled out my usual overalls. One advantage to a situation such as my own was the lack of regard I needed for fashion. Deleting that from my thoughts I had decided I might as well just have 3 copies of the same outfit. Why need more? Wear it, clean it and wear it again. Wear another while cleaning the first, and of course keep one for emergencies. Shutting the closet door the mirror on the outer side flashed before me and I again found myself regarding my frame with a little admiration. It’s not that I suffered from a steak of particular vanity, I wasn’t considering my aesthetic beauty, not that it was bad but it just isn’t something I required thinking about. I pulled on the overalls and zipped the front up to an acceptable level. Once this was accomplished I strapped on my boots and motioned towards the door to attend my mornings duties. 8:05am, perfectly on time as usual. Walking to the genetics lab would take a further five minutes due to the lift and setting up twenty minutes, meaning I can start precisely at 8:30am, just in time for Dr Emmerich’s morning round. Perfect.

Emmerich walked with a purpose around the facility on his morning check up before everyone got started on the day’s projects. They were getting increasingly close to the breakthrough he had been foreseeing. He approached the genetics lab with a little extra spring in his step as he anticipated the usual sight there, and sure enough as he glanced through the glass, there was Sketch working away as if she had been there for hours.

“How are you this morning Sketch?” Dr Emmerich inquired entering the lab.

“I’m pretty much a hundred percent Doctor, how does the morning find yourself?” Sketch replied.

“As good as can be expected. I see the others have yet to take up on your early morning initiative.” The Doctor continued.

“I just like to work to a schedule, keeps me right. No point in wasting my time, I’ll have plenty of time for that in the future.” She said thoughtfully.

“There is never time to waste time my dear. There are always things to improve, standards to raise. I didn’t get here by wasting my later years.” Emmerich put down.

“Of course I didn’t mean to insinuate you would waste your time Doctor” Sketch said, never taking an eye off her work.

“Ah well, I’m sure women such as yourself have other things on your mind for the later years.” He said backing down slightly.

“I don’t know about that Doctor. I guess I can only see where time will take me.” Sketch mused putting down a container to shift across the room.

“Yes, time. Time does many things to a person, many things indeed.” The doctor moved further into the lab to look over Sketch’s work. “It has certainly changed me over the years. Of course there are certain things I’ve kept true. I still value my work above all else. Which is a trait I am pleased to say I see in you my dear.” He continued admiring Sketch’s progress.

“Why thank you Doctor. I do try to do my best, for the project and myself.” Sketch passed off respectfully turning back to her work.

The Doctor was about to pick up the conversation again when the lab doors slid open with their customary gliding whistle and Bentley walked in. Without saying a word he wandered casually in and headed to his station. Setting out some things he finally looked up and regarded the two in front of him.

“Morning Doctor, Sketch, hope you slept well?” he offered.

“As well as usual.” Sketch gave him in return.

“I suppose I can not complain Dr Ferguson. Although I still say we could use our time for better things” Emmerich suggested.

“With or without drugs, I still believe our bodies require rest, otherwise we loose something. I don’t care what the studies say.” Bentley said coolly.

“I haven’t required sleep in 12 years since I developed Drexonil and I’m fine.” Emmerich summarised defensively.

“Medically maybe, but who knows about the rest of you?” Bentley questioned.

“There is nothing but medically. Don’t tell me you fall in for all that psychobabble nonsense. You are a man of science. A man searching for answers to the world, a man who questions anything without an explanation. I didn’t hire you because you were sensitive to my emotional needs.” The Doctor jumped back.

“Ah well, I imagine that is true. I’m ready to begin the cell fusion experiments after last nights results.” Bentley changed the subject.

“It’s about time. I’ll review your results and return this afternoon to see over the work.” Emmerich ended in a matter of fact fashion. “Hopefully these ones will be up to scratch.”

“I’m positive they will be fine Doctor.” Bentley rebuffed.

“They better not be fine, they better be perfect.” Emmerich added as he left the room.

Bentley merely mumbled as the Doctor left and he began his day’s work. Some might have found it amazing how long he and Sketch went without actually saying something. The air throughout the lab begged for a sound to carry, but it just sat in vein, whistling occasionally as the air conditioning kicked in. Finally there was cause to speak as Maurice entered the lab, his lab coat contrasting his drab attire with its screaming white exuberance.

“I have completed the microcellular exams. We are ready to enter phase three once you two have completed the cell fusions. How is it coming?” he addressed the two silent figures.

Looking up to Bentley, Sketch quickly drew in his status and offered a reply.

“We should finish within two hours.” She gave him.

“Make that two and a half, I think we should break for some breakfast. What do you think Maurice?” Bentley suggested.

“I suppose we could. We are ever so slightly ahead of schedule after all.” Maurice replied.

“Then it’s settled.” Bentley finished a slight brightness taking over him. “Are you coming Sketch?”

Considering it was the first thing he had said to her since the Doctor had left it was offered in an unusually friendly tone. She agreed having no good reason not to and they headed towards the cafeteria. The day-to-day relationship between the team was shattered to say the least. Having never met until the project they walked a constant line between professional distance and friendly abandon. They would never have said it, but some agreed that Dr Emmerich had a slightly adverse affect on the group’s ability to gel.

They wandered through the corridors in relative silence until Bentley broke the mould. Turning to Maurice he paused, finding Maurice feverously arranging the pens in his pocket in what appeared to be order of height, before asking “Did you have many problems with the cell cultures Maurice?”

“No they separated rather well after the Diazepam treatments, another stroke of genius from Dr Emmerich I must say. They seem quite free now, our progress now totally hinges on this afternoons results.” Maurice replied pleased.

“We’ll seeing as Emmerich is coming down to personally oversee them I have no doubt they’ll go well. Is it just me or do you get the heebie-jeebies from him always watching us from his private lab?” Bentley confided.

“It is just his way. You forget about it after a while. It’s not like he has cameras everywhere, just where he needs to know about. Besides, if you are doing what you are met to be doing then there should not be any problems. If you have nothing to hide, why pretend you are hiding it?” Sketch chimed in.

“You’re missing the point Sketch. It’s not so black and white, what about your feeling of space, your ideas of privacy? Don’t you ever feel like you just part of the experiment?” Bentley continued.

“Isn’t it all just one big experiment? I just do what I’m here to do. Once we accomplish this goal, I can move onto the next. Life is a surplus of experiments, each one teaches me something new and so I grow, every time being that little more human, that little more humane.” Sketch offered them thoughtfully.

“That’s rather profound for a scientist is it not?” Maurice dissected.

“It’s over logical idealistic rubbish, is what it is.” Bentley said rather harshly.

With this they entered the living area of the Echo. They found Rory slumped over a bowl of cereal. Still in the shirt and shorts from earlier in the night he was looking more than a little rough, unshaven and generally a little red.

“So this is where you have been. Shouldn’t you have been in your lab finishing the electro-bio-sutures? Bentley inquired.

“They’re already finished man, I did them last night. Couldn’t sleep after Dr Em laid the law on us so I thought fuck it, I’ll finish them now.” Rory explained.

“ I hate to sound negative Mr Henderson, but you aren’t looking your best this morning.” Maurice said tentatively.

“Dude, first off, it’s Rory, roe… ray. Second off, you spend all night up in a chilled lab finding with micro-lesions and cellular tears and we’ll see how good you look.” Rory spat back.

“My apologies, Mr, Rory.” Maurice replied uncomfortably. “Were there problems with the process?”

“You could say that. The sutures weren’t as stable as I had first anticipated, which if not closely monitored could cause us problems when we begin testing. I reckon I have it under control now however. I managed to come up with this cool little patch to work over the sutures which not only fixes the problem but actually has improved the bio-bonding level by 12%.” Rory smiled smugly.

As Rory wandered into a technical jargon filled ego splurge Sketch began floating into her own head. She watched as the three men continued their interaction. Maurice, even with his dislike of Rory’s character, stands looking captivated by the now professional talking before him, while Bentley though still interested, never the less begins to busy himself by poking through the various cupboards for a suitable scrap. She studied them as they adjust their stances and move about the room. In their conversation they eventually move over to the table and sit together. She stood in the kitchen area preparing her nutritional supplement oatmeal methodically, though what with having made it thousands of times before she could afford to pay the three gentlemen this attention. Noticing the way Maurice lent in as he spoke, as if bringing himself closer to the conversation she found it interesting that in contrast to this he almost recoiled when others spoke. She surmised that he lacked the skills to necessarily communicate comfortably with others but never the less felt he did want to engage in topics he found interesting. Luckily in the field he chose for his life people tend to be a little standoffish anyway and it seemed to suit him. In contrast to this both Rory and Bentley seemed very comfortable in conversation. The difference in them rang more in them wanting to converse with the world. Where Rory all to often shares his opinions wanted or not, Bentley will often spend hours with others saying nothing. Often Sketch seemed to take a greater interest in Rory, as she has never met anyone quite like him before in their spheres. Most people construed this as a flirtatious love interest, such as Dr Emmerich, who often panged with jealously because of it. But Sketch is purely a student of the species.

“Anyway we need to get back soon, the doctor will be looking for us soon enough and the last thing we need is a lecture on the foils of wasting time ‘socialising’ at breakfast” Bentley chuckled bringing Sketch back out of herself.

“Dr Doom on the rampage, hehe” Rory added.

“I hardly think ‘doom’ fits a man of his prestige” Maurice defended.

“It’s a joke man, you never read old comic books as a kid? They were the shit!” Rory laughed.

“I had better things to do with my time I thank you.” Maurice said again defensively.

“Come on let’s get on. We’ll see you through there Sketch. When you’re finished stirring your ‘soup’” Bentley mused.

Sketch suddenly realised that stirring was all she had been doing all this time. Looking up to the four figures preparing to leave she mumbled pouring her oatmeal into a bowl professing “Yes, I will follow you on shortly”.

*******************

The alarm began its morning call, punctuating my ears like an end to my unconscious sentence. I stretched out a lazy arm and hit snooze. Rolling to my back I stared at the uncluttered ceiling. Letting out a subtle breath I watched as the air swirl around and vanish again. As the alarm limbered up for another blast I switched it to off and sat to the side of my bed. I placed my head into my hands as I rubbed my morning face searching for some kind of humanity to hit the day with. Every morning is a struggle to keep the search alive, to follow through with the enthusiasm I once owned. I walked to the desk where I lit up a cigarette, again watching the swirl and dance of the deadly smoke that slid to my lungs. I should know better. As the smoke clears I can see my father, his stern but fair face pacing back and forth through my mind. Always professional and always with purpose but knew when I needed him as my dad. He was always there and always seemed so confident in himself. Even now I could still see it. Pulling the photo away from the mirror, just holding it made me feel closer to him. When he died I felt the confidence was not only lost from his life, but from my own as well. I prayed to him to give me the strength to keep the promise I made all those years ago. As long as I live my life I’ll try to fix what had robbed him of the time rightly his. Sticking the photo back to the mirror reflecting my misaligned pain I resigned to dress for the day and moved out thinking, “maybe this day, could be ‘the’ day”.

Leading up to the lab the white-lit corridor seemed to cave in a little, leaving Bentley with a slightly claustrophobic feeling. Then again the whole damned building was a closed in nightmare so he had soon gotten used to it. The familiar sight of Maurice and Sketch busying themselves with the morning’s preparations greeted him as he walked in.

“Morning folks, how are we this morning” he offered them in and unusually friendly manor.

“Ah Pleasure to find you still in such a pleasant mood, I take it your tests went well?” Maurice replied to their earlier conversation.

“They were a little tricky, but I decided I should try and keep that little spark of optimism, god knows this place needs a little of that to keep you going.” Bentley mused.

“What has god got to do with it?” Sketch replied genuinely confused.

“It’s just a phrase Sketch, you know, ‘only god knows’ that kind of idea? I’m just saying this place needs a little hope around it or we’ll all go mad” Bentley’s sentence drifted off into a small laugh as he shuffled around a cupboard for some chemicals. “Without a little hope I think any of us could easily go a little mad down here.”

“Steady on, I wouldn’t go that far. We are not savages after all. Unless of course I missed a trick with you Dr Ferguson?” Maurice allowed himself a rare smile at his social jibe.

“Like you could miss anything Maurice” Bentley smiled.

“Did you two know each other before the Echo Project?” Sketch chimed in again.

“I wouldn’t say so” Bentley answered beginning his work, “Although we had met a few times at the odd conference or two. I actually found out just before coming here that we worked at the same company for a short time without having met. I was a fourth floor plebe then while Maurice here was already nipping at the heels of the top brass.”

“You over credit me doctor. I was merely doing my job” Maurice went a little bashfully.

“Yes well, credit where it’s due. You were doing some great work there.” Bentley continued.

“Well thank you, um, Bentley.” Maurice replied allowing himself the use of a first name.

“It’s nice to see a little friendship amongst us.” Sketch said with a smile.

“Do you think we are not friends Sketch?” Maurice enquired.

“You know that’s not what u mean” Sketch smiled at him. “Merely that it’s nice there was some existing bonding in the group, sometimes we all seem such strangers.”

“We know, don’t worry” Bentley chuckled. “How are the cultures coming along?”

“They are moving faster than expected actually, I think we will be set for some end of session testing before the day is out. D-Day could come a few days earlier if this pace continues into the second phase.” Maurice reported to him optimistically.

“Excellent glad to here that, I had a good feeling about today, looks like it coming true” Bentley smiled.

“It does look that way. Hopefully that prediction will continue” Sketch supported.

“Indeed, indeed” Bentley said getting busy with his solutions. He seemed content as he worked the hope inside that his day would be coming stronger than it ever had been. Finally his demons would rest.

The remainder of the day was fair standard. The tests they ran we completed and the air of optimism that had followed Bentley through the day had began affecting the other two as well. They spent the day in such a friendly way that even Sketches fears of messing up her social graces began to fade a little. It was a day in which they were actually happy as well as driven. But not everyone was having such a good time.

*******************

Waking with a start, my head felt a little fuzzy from the night before, almost like I had been drinking. Maybe I’m going into withdraw from lack of alcohol. Man it must be like two months now or something stupid like that. I can feel the sweat on my back sticking to the sheet below me, the two slithering off each other. That is so gross, I really, really got to fix the heating down here otherwise I’m going become some kind barbequed prawn. Sliding off the bed, I quickly sat back upon on it. ‘Jesus, how can a room so damn hot have a floor so damn cold?’ My boxers were, funnily enough, soaked through so I figured I’d have a shower. I kind of miss the old days where showers were necessary and not just something a guys does to feel good. Just cause it’s ‘not just air filtration, but air perfection’; the jingle ran about my head in a slightly bitter tone, doesn’t make it good. I get up and peel away the clothes stuck to my body and stepped forward just the way to bang my foot off my bedside table, “Ah, fuck” I limped a moment shaking off the pain. I walked to over to a small corner of the room and flicked the switch activating the wall panel which slid back to reveal my modest shower unit. As I stepped in a familiar hum took place, dim lights lit up on the floor and a clear panel slid shut behind me locking me inside. The instant warmth brung me to life as the water started to run down from the ceiling. Suddenly the colour returned to my skin and the breath felt freer on my lips. I ran my hands through my wet hair and I actually smile. It always amazes me that something so simple can bring so much joy. All the technology in the world couldn’t touch this, that’s why I love the challenge in my work, grasping to bring it closer to this feeling right now. For all the synthetic natures of what I do, I just wish I could make it feel like it has something natural to it.

Rory left his room refreshed by his shower but cursing to himself as he had just realised he was late. The doctor would not be happy and of all the things he hated the most Rory decided being late was the biggest. Emmerich disliked Rory as it was. He hurried through the corridors until he reached the lift. He was heading for the doctors outer lab on the bottom floor. No one was allowed in his main lab but the smaller outer lab he occasionally invited people to and this was one of those times. He hit the lift button and waited for the accompanying swish of the lift coming to greet him. As it was usually almost instant the seconds delay twigged him immediately, however after 30 seconds he knew something was definitely up. “Come on, come on” Rory hurried it along. He was already a little on edge from the heat in his room and being late for his one chance to impress the doctor, this definitely wasn’t helping. He tried pressing the call button again to little avail. He opened the panel and took a look around; everything seemed to be working so he pressing the computer switch and began a diagnostic.

“ACORN, examine your lift call procedures for errors and report.” Rory put matter-of-factly.

‘All systems working within normal parameters Dr Henderson.’ The computer replied.

‘Check lift kinetics modules and report’ Rory pressed.

‘System operating at 95%, within acceptable parameters.’ It said again.

“There has to be something wrong” Rory said to himself.

‘All systems working within normal parameters Dr Henderson.’ The computer replied.

‘I wasn’t asking you’ Rory retorted.

‘But there is no one else here Dr Henderson’ ACORN replied.

“I always said they gave you too much of a personality’ Rory shook his head readdressing some wiring.

Even though the computer only had the one tone Rory could here sarcasm in its voice. He hated talking machines, as convenient as they were. He closed the panel and tried the lift again but with no luck.

“Jesus, come on these things never break’ he said again to himself. “Are you sure the lift systems are working?”

No answer.

“Acorn, I asked you a question” He said getting more irate.

‘Are you addressing me now Dr Henderson?’ it asked him.

‘Yes, Jesus.” He scorned.

‘All systems working within normal parameters Dr Henderson.’ The computer repeated.

“Then why isn’t the damn lift working you stupid box of wires!” he snapped a little shouting into the nothing.

“Shall I bring the lift up to you Dr Henderson?” the computer enquired as the doors slid open in front of him.

“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Rory asked a little pleadingly.

“You did not ask Dr Henderson” ACORN said.

Again, without it being there, Rory felt teased, “You fucking…” he trailed off as he entered the lift and instructed it down to the bottom floor.

*******************
I pottered around my private lab, testing this, double-checking that. I have to make sure that they have done things correctly. It must be perfect, perfection alone will do. There are so many things cluttered around here, paper everywhere I can never find anything. Just don’t trust computers, 90s videogames is all their good for. Such a healthy use of time is gaming, so I tell myself, unlike sleep. Luckily I was able to rid myself of that need years ago. Gah, this coffee is stale. Not sure how long it has actually been sitting there, maybe just a few days. Gulping down the cold maligned liquid it chases my throat like a gravelled rabbit. My private sanctuary is my escape from being the Dr Emmerich the world reveres. I love the cliché of it all. My little asylum where I can be the antithesis of everything I stand from. Here I can be effluent in my chaos and chase things in my head. It’s a lonely place, but I don’t mind, as there is no one better to keep me company in work than myself. Hmm, almost 6am, I’ll be doing my pre-rounds soon. I made a big deal of that handkerchief the other day, but it was warranted. They cannot be allowed to destroy this work, too important, yep, yep. This should be all they get themselves out of bed for. They should make this their lives like I have. Why does it seem such a grave sacrifice to make? If we succeed, the grave will be the least of their worries.

With his rounds coming to very little the doctor found himself back at this lab with time to spare. As he knew Dr Henderson would be around at 9am he decided it would be best to have things properly in order for that, as he wasn’t expecting the highest level of organisation from the young maverick. He moved into his second lab, closing the shutters to the main area behind him, he didn’t allow his team to see his private space. The second smaller space was like the rest of the complex, white and immaculate. He didn’t really keep much in here as it was mainly for working conferences with the rest of the team whenever they had problems or ideas to discuss. He began downloading some data from the computer and reviewing the texts for him and Rory’s session together.

His mind kept wandering a little as he read, thinking about the next few days and what they could mean. If they manage to complete the project then it would mean all sorts of things. He would have achieved his goals, after the lights had gone out and the camera’s stopped flashing he would most likely write about the project, but beyond that there was only nothingness. It was not something he had considered in a while, what to do next, for this project had gone on so long. The prospect of having nothing to do now scared him. The Echo Project had become so intertwined with him he didn’t know if he could function anymore in the real world without. He tried to curtail these thoughts however, as for now he still had the project. With this he shook his head a little and with a slight adjustment of his glasses he was again enveloped in his reading.

‘Incoming lift Doctor Emmerich’ the computer informed him after sometime.

The doctor looked up, he had set the computer to warn him when someone directed the lift to his floor, as he didn’t like surprises. He got up a moved the to door preparing for it’s opening. It wasn’t until then he had noticed the time. He very rarely let time get the better of him and so this left him some what annoyed as usually it took something special to take his attention away. He was sure he had checked it not too long ago and it was fine, maybe he really was going mad. None the less he stood prepared for Rory with the full intention of berating him as if he had been aware of the time. The door slid open and Rory moved to walk out only to almost run in to the doctor.

“Whoa, Jesus man, frighten the life out me why don’t you?” Rory said backing around him form the lift.

“Well I would apologise but you are fifteen minutes late my boy.” The doctor said like he had been waiting.

“Yeah, I’m sorry bout that doc, not sure what happened, I think the faulty air conditioning in my room has been knocking me out for longer, been pissing me off for days now” Rory made his excuses.

“Excuses get you nowhere in life my boy, if it’s been slowing you, you should have compensated. But I’m in no mood to quibble, lets get down to business” the doctor felt a slight pang of remorse.

“Sure doc, that’s why we’re here” Rory said flustered but upbeat none the less.

They began to pour over a desk with digital schematics and code. The Echo Chip sat proudly amongst the wreckage of paper and scrap that the doctor had produced. They compared his notes to the various onscreen staples of information that they both seemed to know so well. Through the work they seemed bonded, swapping and balancing opinions they put together some calculated changed for the chip and made some decisions for the days work.

“Ok, so we’re going to raise the frequency by point two grades, and reduce the fibre angles by 3% to increase the grafting field strength. That should fix the problems we had in the last test round, you agree doctor?” Rory stated looking over their comparisons.

“Yes I would imagine so, though I think we should only reduce the fibre angles by 2.75% instead of three. I think three would tip it slightly too far in the direction of the fusion we saw in the beta testing.” The doctor corrected him.

“Right enough, two seven five it is. What about the field strength on insertion?” Rory enquired to him taking a few notes on a computer pad.

“I think that it is fine at the current levels, we haven’t experienced any problems with that yet, I went over your calculations for the proposed changes I and I must say they were incredibly apt and precise. I think they should be fine as they are, we wont know until the fill tests begin.” The doctor complimented him.

“Cheers doc” Rory seemed pleased at the respect he was being treated with this morning.

“Credit where it’s due, you may be tardy, but your work is excellent.” The doctor said plainly.

“Right I should begin the latest adjustments in order to be ready for tomorrow.” Rory gathered up his things.

“Superb, I will go over the adjust figures when you are complete, have them transferred to my lab when you complete the work. The rest should be complete by the end of the day, and if you finish by tomorrow afternoon then we can begin the final gamma tests tomorrow. Excellent, plainly excellent” Emmerich said pleased.

“Cool, I’ll keep you updated on my progress from tomorrow morning then, with the normal daily update at six today.” Rory got up and began to head for the lift.

“That’s fine. Please if you could inform the group of our findings and the new schedule as they may need to adjust their timetable to match” the doctor asked.

“No problem dude” Rory said from in the lift. As the door closed he saw the doctor pour back over the remaining notes, sketches and design schematics. Having seemingly inspired the doctor Rory felt pleased with himself. Operating on the professional basis they just had been, he enjoyed the intimacy of the work, running out ideas and calculations with the doctor’s finely tuned mind. The lift slid back up to the main labs and Rory stepped out, ready to tell the rest of the group their successes.


*******************

I’m already five minutes late and now my routine is shot. I’ll have to pick up time somewhere in order to make it up, maybe on my shoes? Yes, I could buff them once instead of twice I suppose. Getting up from the bed it’s nine steps to the cupboard. I have to open both the doors to get to all my clothes. White cotton underwear, flapped twice, then put on before my white socks, un-spun, straightened and slid up, right, then left. Moving on I stand straight once more to pick up one of the pairs brown cord pants that greet me from each railing. Checking for stray threads, then examining for creases I allow each leg to slowly search into the sockets available to them finally doing up the button and zipping the fly once, then twice to check it is comfortable and a third time to assure it hasn’t caught. This leaves me with my crisp, freshly starched the night before, white shirt to put on and finally, adorn by my pride and joy, my Echo Project lab coat. I almost stand for a moment to smile at my outlook, but there is no time to waste. I sit at my chair; angled 45 degrees from my desk, for the morning buff of my shoes, black leather worn precisely 84 times before being retired as that is when the leather will begin it’s permanent scarring. I buff them up, just the once this morning, then slide them onto my feet. That is finally me and as I walk from my room I reach into the top inner left pocket of my lab coat to get the glasses I had left their the night before and place them onto my face just in time to great the falling lift, and if things are running about right, Dr Ferguson.

“Good morning doctor, I trust I find you well?” Maurice greeted Bentley as they entered the lift.

“Yeah, in a pretty good mood actually. Trying to keep optimistic about this mornings block evader tests. Dr Emmerich said they may prove tricky, but I’m hoping to over come them.” Bentley replied optimistically.

“Indeed, I did some similar test a few years back, they do tend to grate on the nerves if they do not go well. However I’m sure you will persevere.” Maurice offered him his confidence.

“Cheers, I’m sure I’ll pull through anyway.” Bentley thanked him.

The lift door parted and the two men exited into the long white-lit corridor. As the door moved to close again they turned to face each other once more, Maurice cleaning his classes on a dark rag from his pocket.

“You are always cleaning those things” Bentley laughed.

“I think that is more you imagination, I only do it when they are dirty.” Maurice replied defensively.

“Ah well, if you say so. You helping Sketch in the Beta lab this morning?” Bentley enquired.

“Yes we are complete the fibre blending calculations and testing before Rory completes his fibre angle settings. Then we can blend the angled fibres onto the chip to complete this phase of work.” Maurice summarised.

“Excellent. The doctor will be most pleased at our progress I think. Once this phase is complete we will finally be near the actual testing of the chip and then we will be able to put it to great use.” Bentley said looking into a distance nothing.

“Yes, it will indeed to a great addition to medical science. I look forward to the writings after words.” Maurice mused geekily.

“Speaking of writings, I know this is a little premature and silly, but I have been practicing a little of my speech writing for the various conferences and interviews well have to do when we get out. Could I maybe run my introduction past you?” Bentley gushed a little.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do” Maurice was a little taken aback, he hadn’t considered the publicity of there project.

“Cheers” he cleared his throat before beginning a little spiel. “As a modern scientist there are many things that must be considered when you take on a project such as this one. When I accepted the invitation from Dr Emmerich I was not only thinking about working with the worlds greatest mind, but of the obvious benefits such a product could have for mankind, it almost felt like a moral duty to take it on. My father was affected by just such deceases as this chip will render meaningless and so I felt like it was my chance to do something for his memory. It’s a great achievement and I am proud to have helped make it possible” he paused a moment. “how was that, too preachy do you think?”

“Umm, no it was fine, touching but to the point. I’m sure you will do quite well with the press. Not like me, I’ll probably faint; I hate being in the spotlight. It’s bad enough people know my name at conferences. I hadn’t considered all this after the project.” Maurice said a little worried.

“Hey I’m sure you’ll be ok, besides you’ll have us to keep you going. You don’t necessarily have to hold interviews you can fold back to your home and I’ll keep them busy” Bentley smiled.

“That would be very nice of you” Maurice breath a small sigh of relief.

“It means I get to make up some fun stories about you” Bentley joked patting Maurice’s shoulder.

Maurice jumped slightly at the close contact, something he was not used to and wasn’t sure he liked. “You, you wouldn’t would you?” Maurice said sounds gravely concerned.

“Calm down, I’m only joking. Of course all I would say is that you were an integral part of the team and we couldn’t have done it without your expert inside” Bentley mocked a stern professional tone.

Maurice breathed easier again smiling at his friends joke. “Thank you”

“You’re a funny one I’ll give you that Maurice. I suppose we better got on with our work or Emmerich will have our heads.” Bentley said stepping towards his lab.

“Hmm, indeed, we best get on. I will no down see you in a little while after you are finished?” Maurice said suddenly aware of their stalling.

“Yeah, I’ll pop through to your lab and see if you and Sketch can use a spare pair of hands” Bentley confirmed.

“Right then, see you later then” Maurice nodded in goodbye.

“Yep, see you then”

The two then went their separate directions down the curling corridor. Bentley walked with a strong step stilling thinking about the projects end, getting home to his family and all the perks that would be greeting him after. Maurice, a little more cautious, walked as such, thinking about where he could hide. He however didn’t think about it for long soon turning his thoughts back to the now, and the work to be done today. One day at a time for him, slow and steady.


“Acorn, what’s the status of the E.C.?” Dr Emmerich said, stern and firm.

“Coolants, 86%. Fibre strength, 96%. Biometric field strength, 99.7%. All systems appear within allowed parameters.” the computer read back listlessly.

“Good, Good. Are the emergency measures in place?” the doctor continued.

“Yes Dr Emmerich, emergency functions have been locked in placed and the Echo Chip is prepped for initial human testing. Please feed in the sample blood data.” ACORN requested.

The doctor scuttled around a little, he picked up the sample blood from the severed arm he had showed the group earlier. It lay lifeless in the stasis field to his left, if the experiment worked the arm would have new life and through the computer he would be able to use it. The sheer thought filled his heart with buoyancy and a feeling of desperate childlike excitement. This was going to be it, his whole life come to a point.

He put the sample into the computer tray and it automatically pulled the sample in.

“Blood sample, successful. AB Negative. Please scan sample tissue.” ACORN continued to whir in the background.

The doctor typed into the flat desk computer for a few moments, pondering something or other before addressing the computer once more. “Scan stasis pod four and prepare for tissue firing.”

At this a thin beam of blue light bolted out from above a cocoon shaped object against the wall. The doctor look upon it pleased as the light filtered through the glinting force field, light reflected against his face bathing coldly turning his joyous grin into a maniacal splinter. He stood waiting, pressing the occasion button on the panel to his right checking the readings that it gave.

“Scan complete. Subject human arm, type male, status nominal, AB Negative. Match to sample blood 664, ready for phase 3.” The computer ran off.

“Initiate synthesis match and E.C blood fusion. Give me a readout display on my desk.” The doctored again ordered the computer, moving over to a now illuminated desk that spewed out numbers and diagrams.

Now sitting he pours himself over the readouts intently studying each one almost as quickly as the computer can display them. Every so often looking up to the Echo Chip, housed in its protective environment he watches as ACORN goes about his instructions.

Cold but lithe metallic arms swirled around the airtight chamber, their movement a concentrate but beautiful concerto of painted strokes. The maligned beauty was lost on the doctor however. As they flowed effortlessly along hooking up micro-wires to the Echo Chip they made but the slightest of sounds. Inside the camber the air was deathly, but harmonic. Everything precisely still other than that which orchestrated the painted delights of the experimental process. With the final phase almost complete the doctor wandered over to the chip chamber and looked over his creation. He allowed himself a small wry smile and thought about the future that was to greet him. Alas he knew there was still years to go before the full glory of his creation. This was only the beta test phase, using synthetic machines to test the Echo chip on dying tissue. In order to fully achieve what he had spent so long aiming for it would have to work on n actual human being. Looking at how perfect Echo sat right now the thought filled him with resent. How could an establishment with such inferior knowledge dare to tell him when his creation was ready to use.

“Echo preparation complete. Ready for reflective bonding of host tissue. Shall I continue Dr Emmerich?” Acorn relayed.

The doctor turned and paused for a moment, looking towards the non-existent voice that addressed him. He had been thinking about this all along. Several decisions made specifically for this exact moment in time and now that it was here the final decision had to be made. For all his lose of character, loss of self, the biggest judgement that history will make of him all came down to now. He was conflicted. All those 20th century movies, they portrayed the man he was about to become so perfectly, so elegantly. He was about to become a cliché but he didn’t care cause he knew it would work, as for it not, would require him to be wrong. And that was something he would never believe.


Everyone sat around the lab bench taking in what the doctor had just told them. The big day had gotten them all excited and now it had been taken away. After beginning the priming the doctor had pulled the plug. Everything seemed to be perfect, and they knew it would take something out of the ordinary to stop the doctor reaching his goal. That was why they were so bemused, not because the project had stalled, that happened all the time, but more so because the doctor, in his unstoppable personality, had allowed it to at such a crucial stage.

“Are you sure doctor, everything is in place for today’s operational run” Bentley enquired.

*Over intercom* “Yes, I am sure, there has been some unexpected complications. I will sort them myself in the lab. You can take today off and continue with the code testing tomorrow.” The doctor buzzed.

“Is there no way to save today’s assessments? Are there no contingency plans?” Bentley continued.

“Not for this I’m afraid. I can’t go into it much further for now; I need to keep an eye on these figures. There is some hard work up ahead but we should get over it soon. As I have said, don’t worry about it for today, tomorrow is when we will pick up the slack.” The doctor’s buzz continued.

“Ok, lab 2 over.” Bentley ended.

Bentley unclipped the intercom button and looked up to the group. They all seemed as mystified as him.

“Well, looks like there isn’t much we can do” Maurice finally broke the silence.

“Man, this sucks. We were promised the thing was going down today. This mean we got to spend even longer in this bucket in the ground.” Rory seemed annoyed.

“We have to honour the doctor’s wishes. He is in charge Rory.” Sketch answered him.

“Yes, you are always questioning things, why not just take something as said for a change?” Maurice asked him.

“Man you know it’s ok to question authority, it isn’t like you have to be spoon fed everything in your life!” Rory sniped back.

“Yes, well, I just respect the doctors views, unlike some people” Maurice put to him curtly somewhat out of character.

The delay had taken everyone by surprise, annoying them slightly. But still the overhanging niggling feeling was what could have gone wrong that would stop the doctor? There was nothing they could think of that was big enough to have stopped things at this stage.

“There is no need to get stressed guys. There isn’t much we can do about the situation, we just have to do what the doctor tells us and get on with it.” Bentley said diplomatically.

“Bentley is right, we just have to, how you put it, knuckle down.” Sketch asserted attempting a smile to lighten the mood, but it served more to show her discomfort at the sinking mood.

“Dude, still pisses me off, we have been working on this for weeks. The doctor going on about the perfect this, exact that and then when the shit hits the fan he is all, ‘no we got to stop’ it’s bull man!” Rory continued his ranting.

“Just be quiet and act your age, you are a professional are you not?” Maurice enquired out of him usual quiet stance.

“Christ man, you have to have an opinion on everything don’t you? Can’t you just let me mouth off for once, I’m just sounding out.” Rory began getting agitated.

“I merely have opinions on things I think are worth commenting on. You are the one who has to have something to say about everything and nothing all at once.” Maurice replied.

“Oh don’t start. You know what you are; you are a fucking suck up. If the doctor asked you to suck his dick you would do it man” Rory stood up loosing his patience.

“Now guys come on, there is no need to go overboard it’s just a set back. We will get over it soon enough.” Bentley tried to make peace.

“No man, shut it, let the dweeb speak his piece, he’s obviously got problems with me and I wanna hear them.” Rory continued confrontationally.

“I don’t really thin this is what we need right now” Sketch put in.

“Well the young lad seems to think that we do.” Maurice said under his breath.

“Oh, I’m just some young punk is that it? You think I’m some useless youngster? You think I’m here because of my dad don’t you? You have always resented my presence because I threaten your place at the top and that’s all you’ve got. You’re scared of me ain’t you?” Rory continued.