Touch

Sound seems to echo in the long empty corridor as the professor runs down the hall still zipping up his pants as his shoes are hitting the floor hard enough to sound like gun fire. He reaches the door digging in his pocket for his access card then putting in his code and calmly taking a breath as he opens the door. He usually kept his access card on his lanyard with his ID but as he has been distracted lately with the long hours at work, it was just one of those things to add to the many that’s been keeping him out of sorts. “Is he in?” the professor asked, walking slowly toward his office door. “Yes, he’s been waiting for you” answered Julie his secretary, who we all call Jules because her deep blue eyes sparkle like sapphires. Waiting for me? he thought to himself. The professor knocked and a voice replied, “Come in professor.” Entering and slowly closing the door behind him, the professor was about to tell him the breakthrough the team made the night before. In fact, He had just come from the bathroom where he fell asleep on the toilet after stay up completing the formula that had a deadline which the team had already exceeded. Not wanting to take Mr. Turner’s deadline for granted, for this was a man who was not very large in stature but had a distinguished presence about him and almost eerie at times that would make the most powerful of men take a second look at him or think twice before crossing him. Before I could speak, he said “you have something for me, correct?” With a slight look of surprise, I said “yes, but how….” Before I could finish, he stood up and said, “show me.” He always seemed to know our progress before we could tell him as if he was psychic. It must be the phone calls he receives that last no more than ten seconds, and then he would mysteriously know everything I was going to tell him. With all the serious looking men in suits walking around, we all had suspicions of some government agency secretly funding the project. A question no one ever asked aloud. Leading the way, he opened the door and walked past Jules as I smiled nervously at her and stayed two steps behind him. He reached the door to the lab and I quickly moved in front and opened it for him. As the two of them made their way in the lab, they could hear Robert and Sheila whispering to each other though they could not make out what they were saying. When they looked up, they both stopped speaking. They then said together “hello Mr. Turner.” He nodded and walked toward the lab table. I took a seat at the computer and began to explain the calculations of the DNA sample sequences work-ups we performed all through the night. “As you can see sir, when we compared the last two samples, one from the pre-calculated script and the other from the manual sample run and it showed us a time sequence discrepancy.” “With that new data, we were able to edit the time sequence on the pre-calculated script and rerun the samples. Strangely, it shows as having no errors but only shows as ninety-eight-point six percent complete.” “I’ve run the calculations over and over and still come up with the same percentage, which leads me to believe that one of the strands may be corrupted.” “Corrupted”, said Mr. Turner, “how is that possible?” “Well, it’s difficult to explain, it could be anything from differences in cell density to micro-cellular degradation, or even some form of genetic mutation, all of which are virtually impossible to detect, but with the progress we’ve made it puts us miles ahead of where we started, we’re on the verge of being 100 percent, it’s just a matter of time.” “When can we test?” Mr. Turner said. “Test, without being able to account for the other one-point four percent, you can’t,” the professor answered. Mr. Turner then turned quickly saying “no errors correct, thank you professor,” then reached in his pocket taking out his cell phone and left the lab. Standing in a dark corridor; “yes sir, but sir the…. yes sir, I understand, yes sir.” Mr. Turner finishes the call he made as he exited the lab. With a serious look on his face, he walked back to reception passing Jules saying “no interruptions,” then walked into his office and closed the door. Standing behind the closed door with one hand on his chin Mr. Turner begins to pace in his office. He stops in front of his desk and takes out his cell phone again. He begins to talk.