The Scientist

         Masked by large glasses and a coat of white,

        This research scientist was truly a sight.

        She loved her work and that was no surprise,

        As one could tell by the look in her eyes.

        She was frail and ate little, for she would not

        Stop any project in which she was caught.

        It’s a surprise to find her here today,

        Her basement lab is where she’d like to stay.

        She never comes out, save to feed her plants,

        Her parents helped in her question for why

        For her to love science they surely did try.

        At five she never went out to go play,

        She had got a microscope for her birthday

(This is a story from one of Mary’s (the scientist) first research trips. This is one of the reasons why she is now only found working alone in her basement lab on her own private experiments.)

        Silence, absolute silence. Inside the Lab, Mary sat on the stool listening to the air conditioner fans spin rapidly, trying to cool the lab. She zipped up her fleece parka, the third layer of clothing. Jane was sleeping in her room.

        But what was that? It was loud and throbbing, but it wasn’t the fans. Something off in the distance.

        Helicopters.

        Mary jumped off the stool. She had to get to Jane. She had to be ready. They were finally here. She was safe.

        Then Mary saw something else. A small black speck danced tauntingly in the corner of her eye. The mosquito. Mary’s eyes widened in rage. This thing wasn’t going to stop her now. They were so close to being rescued. This thing would die, not her.

        There on the wall was the emergency hatchet. As Mary looked at it, a glare traveled over its metallic blade as some sort of sign from above. Mary rushed over and opened the glass box, wielding the large, yet mobile, weapon.

        She swung the large blunt side of the blade at the mosquito, which dodged just in time. The axe hit the counter, sending test tubes and chemicals everywhere. Mary noticed it was slower than usual. The temperature was getting to it. Just not fast enough. The second swing hit the wall. The mosquito fluttered frantically out of the lab and down the hall.

        Mary swung the axe unsuccessfully again. Now the mosquito was past the lounge. It was into the hallway where all of the scientist’s rooms were.

        "Jane!" Mary yelled as the mosquito fluttered into the doctor’s open room. "Watch out!"

        Mary ran into the doorway, huffing. She though her heart would beat out of her chest. Jane was lying on the bed. Motionless.

        "Jane?" Mary prayed that she wasn’t dead.

        "Too late," Jane said. She lay perfectly still on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "It bit me, Mary. But kill it while it’s resting."

        Mary walked up to the bedside. The mosquito was perched right between James’s eyes. Jane stared desperately up at Mary. Mary reached out her thumb to squash insect. At last it was all over.

        "Please, Mary," Jane breathed heavily, "Use the axe."

"What?" Mary was caught off guard.

        "It bit me. I have EEE. I saw the way the others died. I don’t want to go like that. I don’t want to suffocate. I want to go out quick."

        "I can’t."

        "Please! Mary!" Jane was begging. "Do this! Give me the honor of dying peacefully, not in a fit of suffocation."

        Mary couldn’t bear it. She was sure she would faint. The sound of the helicopter blades was louder than ever. They must have been on the roof at this very moment. Very slowly, Mary raised her arms, hesitated, and then brought down the axe.

        The rescuers opened the roof entrance to the lab just five minutes later. The first thing they noticed was that it was extremely cold. Shivering, they made their way past the basement door, left a few inches open. They walked urgently, their first aid kits and stretchers ready, past the lab where snow whirled in the large window of the Climatorium, past the

second lab where there was a gigantic mess of shattered glass and blending chemicals.

        "What do you think happened to them?" one rescuer asked the other.

        "I don’t know. But there’s obviously something wrong. Why is it so cold in here?"

        The first rescuer peeked into the infirmary. There was nothing out of place. There were a few counters scattered with medical tools and two white sheets covering lumps in the hospital beds.

        "Hello!"

        No answer.

        They were now in the bedroom hallway. They knocked on each door, waiting patiently but no one ever answered. They finally got to the last doorway, which was left open. They found a murder scene. One woman was lying on the bed, her head split open, blood dripping down onto the blue carpeted floor. The other woman was passed out, her body contorted in a strange position, her hands loosely gripping the bloody hatchet.

        The two rescuers lifted the woman off the ground onto a stretcher.

        "She’s still breathing. We’ll get her up to the chopper and come back for the others. She looks like the only survivor."

        The two took Mary somewhat laboriously up to the roof, letting the door slam behind them. And the only sound in the lab was the whirring of the fans.