Fox sits at her desk under the window in her bedroom. Her chin rests on the front edge as her arms extend out over the light brown table top. She gingerly holds the clear vial Bacillius gave her before the others arrived.
She knows very well what’s inside the seemingly empty tube. Bacillius had hinted at developing the technology to make it easier for her reach more mainframes around the city.
Turning her head, she rests an ear on her arm and looks at the picture of her parents placed on the corner of her desk.
What would they say if they knew about me? Would Vapour really tell them? If Bacil’s plan works then everyone will be special and life will go back to normal. Why are the others trying to stop him?
She looks at the vial again. It holds answers but it also holds questions.
* * *
“Are you sure your Prof doesn’t mind you using the equipment for non-school related stuff?” Darren asks. 
His eyes are at table level trying to see the thin film on the glass plate of the microscope Kevin is peering into. Trying to stay out of the way, Darren keeps to the opposite side of the narrow bar-height work table.
“Yeah, we’re fine. No one should bother us.” Kevin pops up from the eye pieces and blinks.
“I need a higher res scope though. There’s something imbedded in the thin plastic polymer that I can’t make out.”
“Can I see?”
“Sure. My eyes could use a break.”
Darren walks around to the front of the microscope and looks. Mini clear blotches resembling misshapen drops of paint clarify in front of his eyes. After ruling out some kind of gas or chemical weapon inside the clear tube he and Carina took from Fox two days ago, he decided to approach Kevin about it. It wasn’t that he and Carina were able to determine what was actually in the vial, it was logic and debate that led them to agree that Bacillus didn’t want to kill people, he just wanted to alter their DNA – and he was tech savvy so a gas didn’t make sense. What he and Kevin found were six clear, thin ovals that easily clung to skin – specifically finger pads.
Darren and Kevin only left the lab to sleep for a few hours at a time and pick up something to eat as they walked to and from the student centre. Carina continues to study for exams this week but all of Darren’s classes either had final portfolios or in-class exams, so he could afford the time.
“Yeah, I see them – it’s not just tired eyes playing tricks on you.” Sporadic tiny black spots randomly suspended in the clear blobs blurred his eyes. Darren didn’t know much about this stuff but from what Kevin told him he knew they were anomalous to the soft, malleable plastic.
Darren looks up from the scope. Kevin rubs his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand as he leans against another lab table.
Darren looks around the room, “So where’s the other scope?”
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“A research lab across town.” Kevin looks at Darren. In the silence between them Darren raises an eyebrow silently asking what the next move is. Kevin scrunches up his nose and mouth, briefly chewing the air.
“I can pull some strings but it’ll take time. We’ll have to go to them.” Kevin rubbed a hand over his short black hair and sighed. Darren had taken a calculated risk revealing his true identity to Kevin but he needed to be here, learning what Kevin learned not waiting for the phone to ring. But that was exactly what Kevin was telling him to do – go away and let him figure this out. That’s what that sigh meant.
“Right.” Darren says. He grabs his winter jacket from a nearby stool. “Call me. We go together.”
“If I can swing it. No promises.”
Darren frowns but nods.
* * *
Carina stands in the middle of her dorm with her cell phone inches away from her ear. She faces the window. Light snow falls between the white horizontal blinds in a greyish-white sky. She sees none of this.
Her hand trembles. The phone falls to the floor and bounces on the parquet tile before skittering under the love seat. She does not lower her arm. She’s frozen. The vacant look of disbelief masks the fear churning in her stomach making her want to hurl. Her lungs gasp for want of air. She doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath. She inhales. The cool air of the room chills the warm tissue.
Her eyes refocus.
Her heart and feet jump into motion.
Like a tornado she whips around the room pulling open drawers, rifling through notebooks, printing a file from her computer, and digging out her portfolio case from under the bed. Running to the closet she stands on her desk chair and pulls out one of several large binders lining the top shelf.
Two others fall.
She ignores them and dumps the large one on her bed. Cracking open the coils she removes several bound documents and stuffs them into her portfolio case. The printer spits out the last page. Nabbing the copy, she shoves it in a folder and then into the case with everything else.
The door handle to her room clicks and turns. Carina grabs her coat from the back of the couch and races over to the pegs by the door. Darren walks in.
She reaches past him to snag her scarf, whips around him as she winds the woolen mass around her neck before zipping up her coat and popping up her hood. Reaching for the portfolio case leaning against the end of her bed, Darren grabs hold her arms and turns her around.
She vanishes.
“Carina? What’s wrong?”
She reappears.
“No time-”
Breaking free of Darren’s hold she grabs the case and runs for the door. Jamming first one boot and then the other on her feet she staggers into the hall.
Darren follows.
Carina sprints down the hall for the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator. Darren locks her room and chases after her.
In fits and spurts he manages to discover the reason for her haste. The wild look in her eyes and the frantic pace she sets reveals her nervous apprehension.
He repeats out loud everything she’s already gone over in her mind, pulled apart, and attempted to reassemble into some kind of understanding.
One thing she won’t be able to rely on is the truth.
Leaping up the stairs of the Photography wing in the Arts building Carina sheds her snow dusted coat and too-warm python length scarf into Darren’s waiting arms.
On the second floor he reaches out to hug her but a man’s voice calls, “Enter,” immediately after her knock on the door. She opens the door and disappears. He only hopes she won’t literally disappear under the stress.
The door shuts.
Carina turns to face the occupants of the Office: Professor Morrison, Dean Snider, his administrative assistant (a woman whose name Carina can never remember), and Vindica – well, Aimee Lincoln right now. Dean Snider indicate the empty chair across from Morrison’s desk, four feet parallel to a similar chair occupied by Aimee.
Morrison sits behind his desk, Snider leans against the book shelf behind Morrison, and his assistant sits in a folding chair beside the desk – laptop open and ready for dictation.
Snider speaks, “Ladies, you are both hereby charged with plagiarism and stand to lose not only this course but your place in this program. What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Two voices ring out, “Not guilty.”
“Sirs, if I may?” Carina asks. Both heads nodded as a microphone appears on the desk courtesy of Chick Flick – Snider’s assistant reminds Carina of a dark blonde Reece Witherspoon from Legally Blonde and a host of other women’s movies that span the actress’s career.
“I’m being blackmailed.” She turns to look at Vindica, “Now I know by who.”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” Vindica snaps, then coos, “She’s been copying my style since midterms when she found out I was at the top of the class.” She narrows seductive eyes at Morrison who in turn shifts his tie and stares daggers at Carina.
The Dean doesn’t know about their little tryst.
Carina files that bit of information away. She doesn’t want to make an enemy of Morrison but she’ll use it if she gets cornered.
Carina swallows.
“I brought to Professor Morrison’s attention Vin- Aimee’s patterns of cheating when I noticed that the student number usually at the bottom of the grades list was suddenly appearing at the top. Concerned, I told the professor and he said he would take care of it.” Morrison squirms in his seat. Snider folds his arms and looks at Morrison.
“Is this true?” Snider asks
“Yes.” Replies Morrison.
“Why didn’t you report the incident?”
Morrison shifts and straightens his jacket. “Since it was her first offense and her work showed promise-”
Bullshit.
“I gave her a strict warning.”
“What makes you believe she is innocent this time?” Snider persists.
Morrison’s face reddens, but he’s ready to support his decision, “Since midterms the quality of Carina’s work has severely declined, while Aimee has maintained a relatively high standard for the class. Then, Carina submitted a nearly identical final assignment to the one Aimee handed in two days prior – again, not quite as good.”
Carina’s heart beat rapidly as it tried to find somewhere in her chest to hide. She had no idea just how bad the situation was but now it was clear. Vindica has turned the tables from Morrison to her.
I had finished the final assignment after all – Darren was right but that email… I must have sent the work to Vindica instead of Morrison.
Then the image of a woman in all grey bumping into Carina just outside the Hospital flashes into her mind.
She rubs the slight scar from the scratch that ensued.
“You were saying, Carina?” Snider prompts.
What can I say?
The room holds its breath, waiting.
* * *
Darren sits on the all-weather carpeting lining the hall outside Professor Morrison’s door. He slides his back up the wall to a standing position again, pushes off the wall with his back and paces. This is the sixth cycle of the routine. The 15 minutes since Carina went into the office promise to quadruple themselves. He hates waiting.
His cell phone vibrates. He checks the caller ID. Kevin.
“Talk to me, man.”
“We go now or we wait until after Christmas.” Says Kevin.
“Damnit.”
“What?”
“I can’t – Carina’s got a thing.”
“A thing? Whatever. I’ll go by myself.”
“No.” Darren had to know firsthand – this was bigger than everyone.
“If you’re not here in 10 minutes I’m leaving without you.” Kevin hangs up. Darren looks at the office door then down at his phone.
8 minutes later Darren pulls his ’02 Toyota Corolla up to the main doors of the Science Lab. Kevin opens the passenger door and slides in with a gust of wind and snow. The sky darkens grey with more than just the threat of night.
The drive across town takes a brisk 20 minutes, since few people are willing to risk driving in a storm. Surprisingly, the parking lot outside the research lab is full. Darren looks at Kevin as he slows to a stop just inside the driveway.
“It’s full.” He says.
“There’s a conference today.” Kevin explains.
“How are we supposed to look into this if all these people are here?”
“They’re in the conference room until 5pm.” Kevin glances at his watch. “We’ve got 30 minutes to park this thing, get in the door, find the lab and figure out the contents of that vial before today’s lectures are over. They’ll be shutting the lab down at six until-”
“-after Christmas.” Darren finishes for him. Kevin nods. Darren aims for the far side of the lot. A spot this far away from the building would mean time lost between here and the door, but he figures he’ll save time by going where no one wants to park rather than hunting for a closer spot.
“Jackpot!” Darren says and pulls into an empty space. The men race for the building as hard bits of snow pelt exposed skin. Inside, Kevin flashes a special pass at the turnstile guard.
“I’m a student with Serenica. I work under Professor McNaughton,” the guard’s eyes light up with recognition, “Dr. Natalie Risen should have left instructions for you to allow my associate and I into Lab 7.” The guard nods, calls for an escort on his two-way and lets Darren and Kevin pass. Shedding their jackets, they leave them in a closet outside Lab 7.
Their escort remains outside by the door as they hurry in.
“Which microscope is it?” Darren asks. Kevin scans the room. It’s relatively small compared to the lab they were working in on campus, but it has twice the technology.
“Here.” Kevin says, walking down the third row by the far wall to an enormous microscope. Kevin pops open the petri dish holding the thin clear plastic, and places the contents between two pieces of glass supplied from a drawer near the scope. He slides the frame under the microscope and places his eyes to the lenses.
Darren leans on the counter listening to the scope find focus under Kevin’s adept fingers. Kevin inhales sharply.
“What!” Darren asks.
“Look.” Kevin backs away from the lenses. Darren moves in front of the scope and places his eyes over the viewer. One giant clear glob fills his vision instead of the multiple smaller blobs seen back at Serenica. There were the black spots, but they weren’t really black, – they were a dark grey with a metallic sheen. The spot moves in a circular pattern as if suspended in an orbit around a nucleus he can’t see.
“What is it?” Darren asks.
“Nanotechnology.”
Damn.
* * *
Fox lay on her stomach in bed listening to the ice pelt her window. Rolling onto her back, she slowly twirls the clear vial above her stomach. One knee up, her ankle rests on it as the other knee bobs in the air out to one side.
She sets the tube down on her comforter and rolls off the bed. She’s let the room grow dark in her contemplation. She turns on her lamp and leans over her desk to shut her blinds.
“Julia! Dinner!” Her mother calls up the stairs.
At the closed door to her room Fox leans into the knob for a moment looking at her bed. She can barely make out the rounded edge of the glass vial in the soft light.
Moving away from the door, she picks it up and looks at it in the light from her lamp. The thin clear plastic finger pads inside shimmer slightly. Turning, she opens her top dresser drawer and slides it under her socks at the back. Closing the drawer, she goes to open her door.
“Coming, Ma!” she calls. She’s made up her mind.
Closing the door she jogs downstairs for dinner.
* * *
To all my friends, fans, and followers,
The Ivancic Superheroes 