JAN 7

“So for the next part of your training, we’ll be recreating a similar condition as when you were under water. But this time I will teach you another potential escape route or lifesaver should it come to that.”

With a stiffened posture at his remark, Alaya leaned in to hear the climax of his tale. “And what is that exactly?”

The young man wrapped and rubbed the towel on top of his curly hair in order to get it dry. Then he placed it aside on one of the machines.

“Well,” he started, “You know how if you’re underwater and you run out of oxygen and don’t get your head above water in time you will drown?” He asked rhetorically with a smirk.

Alaya proceeded to play along with a crossed eye, “Yes.” She responded annoyingly.

“Well,” He continued to patronize her using a baseless robotic tone to get the remainder of his words out, “If you were on land and this did happen to you, there is a way for you to potentially save yourself.”

She became intrigued by his words and hastily asked. “How?”

“It’s simple enough,” He explained, “This is a tiny electric applicator.” Saying this he reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal-like syringe pin.

“This device contains enough electricity that will shock the cells with a large amount of electricity that forces out all the electrolytes out of the cells at the same time.”

Alaya perplexed her own mind working out the technological complexities of the tiny applicator, but was able to get the gist of it pretty quickly. She then chimed in, “so with the right luck on my side, this should cause my heart’s normal operation of electrolytes passing across the cell membrane in an organized fashion to take over again, thus restarting my heart?”

“Yes.” He promptly confirmed. “But, that’s only providing that you were able to inject yourself with the syringe 5 seconds before your heart line went flat.” He then lifted his eyebrows and offered a faint warning of sympathy, “A second sooner or later than that, and you run the risk of it completely failing then- it’s over.”

A grim sweat began to wash over her and her mouth suddenly became hot and dry. Her left leg slowly lost a little balance on her journey to her temporary dorm room. She had left him standing there and headed back the moment he said that it was time to take a break. She took a shower and not a moment later heard a knock on the door.

Still wrapped in her towel, she slightly opens the door. “Yes,” she answers.

“The boss would like to see you.” A young tall worker about the age of 19 said standing outside her door. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”

“Okay, got it. I’ll be there are soon as I can.” She responds.

He nods respectfully then walks away. Alaya quickly gets dressed then wends casually past the science labs and towards Mr. Bishop’s office.

She knocks on the door then peep-first her head in, “You sent for me?” She fustily asked.

He remains seated then says politely. “Yes, please come in.”

She walks in slowly in order to gradually adjust to the stifling atmosphere at large. Mr. Bishop had a tendency to evoke a feeling of both respect and fear from others. But since that night, Alaya has known only the latter.

As she sat, he simply exhaled heavily then assumed a regal pose. He looked away from her direction then began to speak,

“Since the beginning of time until now,” He started, “Men have always...” He stressed, “Been afraid of what they cannot understand or explain.” And then he came full circle stern-eyed to her and paused.

“That night you asked me two questions and I told you that answers will be granted to you when you are deemed worthy of them.”

She then anxiously sat up straight in her chair. “Yes, I remember.”

“At this moment, I will gift you a response to your first question.”

She dials back in her head to recall her exact words then replayed them out loud like a recorder, “Why did you choose me?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “The reason is very simple,” he said while standing up from his very comfortable chair. He started ambling around the room as he spoke, “I have an army of scientist, spies, engineers, and mercenaries that would both collectively and individually make your skills and potential look like child’s play- but I wouldn’t send any one of them.”

Alaya began to pick at her nails in an irritated and uneasy fashion with each passing second of the now deafening ticking clock and his cryptic wordplay.

“I have the strength, intelligence, and skills of all the men of my army combined. But I wouldn’t dare go myself either. Because if I’m caught, then it would be the end of life as we know it.”

He then dawdled alongside her armchair, and then sat on the side of his office table in order to face her. “But I’m sending you for one reason and one reason only.”

“What’s that?” She impatiently asks.

“Because I don’t just need an intelligent tech-savvy scientific spy,” he said leaning in, “I need an intelligent tech-savvy scientific spy who’s willing to die for my son.”

Alaya’s pupils dilated to a cause of terror and apprehension as Mr. Bishop stooped forward to drill the nail in the hammer, “Are you?”