CHAPTER NINE: QUESTIONS

  A second. A unit of time, an opportunity. Each second is as precious as the one before it, and equally as important as the one that shall come after. One second, the average amount of time that it takes for the average Kamashan to make a decision; whether it be a life altering one or a simple one. It was a known fact in Kamasha, that to have a successful day, a productive one, one must plan their day to the second. Every parent taught this, schools cultivated this habit of planning and scheduling. And as a result of this, the notebook planner business became very lucrative. Kamashans spent millions each year buying a sense of control over the day; an illusion of organization, if you must. Planning became an essential ritual for the average Kamashan, it became a part of their culture. To some, planning taught discipline, to limit the activities one could do at any given time. To others, planning was a means to organize the mind, to prevent unwanted thoughts from limiting productivity and inducing stress during the day. But to the top 7% of Kamashans, planning was the ultimate means to gain control over the day. However, it was always at the expense of others. What better way to maximize your own day than to take advantage of other people's time, to use their efforts for your own personal benefit. But what is one to do, when the day doesn’t go as planned? How is one to salvage a day that did not go as per the schedule? And in that second, as the spotlight fell, the noises faded and the on-air light glowed a bright red outside one of the Kamashan Broadcasting Channel studios, Professor Cain would be among the first Kamashans to learn the subtle art of improvisation.

     “Welcome to On The Spot with Tanganza, I am your host, Collins Tangaza. Today we welcome back a friend of  the show. Some of you may know him from the Kamasha Institute of Science and Technology as professor Cain, head of the advanced genetic engineering department. The institute, led by professor Cain and other various notable and dignified educators, has spearheaded various scientific projects in Kamasha over the last 20 years. One of their most infamous and controversial projects, the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer, is underway in its development and is set to be launched in 7 years after the opening of the Interregional Research Center in West Kamasha. Today is a special day for science, and in our efforts to celebrate the many endeavors of the Kamashan scientific community, we have another surprise interview with a very special guest at the very end of the show, stay tuned to find out who it is. Professor Cain, thank you for being here with us today.”

     “Thank you for having me,” professor Cain replied cheerfully.

     “Professor, is it safe to say that you are the primary head of the Kamshan scientific community?”

     “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” professor Cain answered, “I am more of an intermediary between the community and the government.”

      “Why is that?” asked Collins Tangaza, “Why were you the man that they chose for that role?”

     “I have affiliations with both sides,” professor Cain replied, “I am an administrator at the Kamasha Institute of Science and Technology and I also teach advanced genetic engineering. The fact that I have been able to do both for over 20 years now may have made me a good candidate for the position.”

     “Seeing as though you, professor, have been a part of the Kamashan scientific community for a very long time, over 50 years in fact, if I am not mistaken, what makes this community different from any other? What makes the Kamashan scientific community stand out?”

     “Well, Collins,” professor Cain explained, “I like to think of us as a tight-knit society of people who have the same vision. That vision is always focused on leading humankind into the future. Whether it be a mathematician, a biologist, a chemist, a biochemist, a physician, a mechanic, an engineer, a mechanical engineer or a nutritionist, we all have the same goal.”

     “What goal is that?”

     “To understand. How our planet works. How everything fits together so perfectly. We want to understand so that we make our lifestyles better. Long time ago, human beings used to eat anything they could find, we were hunters and gatherers, just trying our best to survive. But over the years, as our knowledge expanded, our scientists developed a basic understanding of human dietary needs. Our nutritionists now provide this information to the general public; we now know what to eat and what not to eat. They tell us what foods to eat when we require more proteins in our diets, they tell us what to eat when we require energy to work, they tell us the foods to eat when we require vitamins to boost our immunity. They tell us the foods to eat when we require roughage in our diets. Nutritionists pick out a specific diet for us that will boost our immunity, give us energy and repair any damages to our cells when we are ailing. None of this would be possible if not for our scientific community.”

      “You speak very highly of nutritionists, professor.” Collins Tangaza commented.

      “It is easier for me to explain the importance of the scientific community by using an example that hits closer to home,” professor Cain explained, “Everyone interacts with food at some point of their day. Need I remind the Kamashans watching today, that our diets have improved drastically over the course of the past 5 years. We are making better, healthier choices that do not cause too much strain to the environment. We have none other than our scientific community to thank for that.”

     “Indeed. When it comes to our nutritionists, no one can argue about their importance in the Kamashan society. However, there have been some doubts, especially among the Kamashan People, over other branches of the scientific community. There have been speculations on whether or not some of the projects they do are actually necessary. One of the projects that has been called to question is the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer. Would you care to address these speculations?”

      “Certainly. We as the Kamashan scientific community have nothing to hide concerning the work that we do, especially to our people. It is because of the Kamashan people that we continue to come up with hundreds of projects and products each year, to make their work easier and to improve their lifestyles. Such is the aim of the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer.”

      “According to a recent poll that we carried out 63% of people support the idea of the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer. However 7% think that there is a government conspiracy linked to it, while the other 30% aren’t sure what to think, citing insufficient information.”

     “I want to address each of those groups of people individually. To the 63% that believe in our vision, thank you for your unmeasurable support of the Kamashan scientific community. To the 30% who aren’t sure what to make of it, do not be worried. We are committed to giving the entire Kamashan population sufficient material concerning the supercomputer before we launch, you will know all you need to know about it. And of the remaining 7% that believe the supercomputer is linked to some government conspiracy, I want to assure you that this is a fully scientific project. For those of you who may not know, the idea for the supercomputer was brought forth to us by Dr.Doreen Schully. She has been a part of our scientific community for a long time now. Dr.Schully’s vision is to enhance the success of human development projects, to make life better for everybody. The Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer is simply a device to help us plan for resource distribution across Kamasha.”

      “I’m glad you mentioned Dr.Schully, professor, because according to the poll, out of the 63% of people who support the idea of the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer, 91% cite Dr.Schully as the reason why they choose to support it. While the remaining 9% support it because of the past successes of the Kamashan scientific community. Why do you think that is?”

      “The people believe in Dr.Schully. They believe in her vision. They see it. When they see her going to their homes, to the schools and visiting their places of business, they don’t see a scientist, they see someone who is trying to make their lives better, someone who understands them and their struggles. But most importantly, they see someone who has the knowledge and the ability to make all their problems go away.”

      “So if I am to make an assumption from your previous statement, the remaining 37% who are sceptical about the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer do not believe in Dr.Schully’s vision?”

      “There could be a myriad of reasons. I wouldn’t want to assume it is because of that. However, it might be. Dr.Schully is a celebrated member of the Kamashan scientific community. She was able to come up with an idea that would change lives globally. But some people diminish her achievements, it might be because she is Benuan, it might be because she is a woman. I have no way of knowing what it might be.”

       “But I do,” Collins Tangaza boasted, “Out of the 30% of people who didn’t know what to think about the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer, only 2% of them cited Dr.Schully as the reason they were sceptical about it. From that 2%, 10% of them said that it was because she is a woman, while the remaining 90% stated that it is because she is Benuan. From that data, what do you think that says about the Kamashan society?”

       “I think it shows how obsessed we are about regional politics. That we are quick to judge others based on where they come from and the kind of society that they grew up in. What that says to me, about the Kamashan society, is that we are not welcoming of other people’s ideas, especially if they are not Kamashan themselves. If you, as an individual, refuse to participate in Dr.Schully’s vision, simply due to the fact that she is Benuan, you are missing out on an opportunity to be a part of something great. Something that will propel us into the future. You must not let your bias cloud your judgement.”

      “Professor, I think you missed the point of why I gave you that information,” Collins Tangaza interjected, “Out of 30%, 2% of them cited Dr.Schully as the reason they couldn’t get on board with the idea of the supercomputer. But remember from the initial data we started with, 7% of them believe that the supercomputer is linked to a government conspiracy. Which means that your alleged affiliations with the government on this project is hurting your reputation a lot more than your collaboration with Dr.Schully. Furthermore, out of the combined 37%, 98% of them stated that they were sceptical about the choice to include a genetic database system. That is why most of them believe this to be a government conspiracy.”

     “That is quite preposterous!” Professor Cain interjected, amused by the accusations that were brought forth. “The genetic database has nothing to do with a government conspiracy or anything like that,” he explained, “The Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer will be a database itself. The purpose of this database is to store information about each Kamashan, to plan for future resource distribution by looking at a projection of population density of a given area at any given time. It could be 5 years from now or 10 years from now, the supercomputer will be able to give an approximation of the population density. But we need data, we need to know about our people. That is why the genetic database is a crucial element to the supercomputer.”

      “The people have a lot of questions, professor Cain. They want to know how genetic information will help in resource distribution.”

     “For tracing,” professor Cain answered promptly, “As you may already know, some areas in Kamasha are densely populated while others are sparsely populated. We want to be able to trace migratory patterns. To gather more information about migratory trends in the region.”

     “Why do you need to have an entire genetic database for that?” Collins Tangaza inquired, “Couldn’t you just ask the people where they are moving to and why?”

      “People tend to lie. Giving false data compromises the quality of information that is generated by the supercomputer. That is not a risk that we are willing to take.”

      “If people can lie, and you claim that scientists are also ordinary people, then it means that scientists can lie as well. Who’s to say that you’re not lying to me at this exact moment about this genetic database and your intentions for it. That is why the people are having a hard time believing that this is not another scheme by the government to gather information and use it against their own people.”

     “Do you honestly believe that the government has any ill intentions with this project?” Professor Cain asked with an annoyed demeanor, “They are barely involved. All they do is assist in funding for development and the spread of information across Kamasha.”

    “Yet 30% of people cited lack of sufficient information about the project.”

    “I do not oversee that,” professor Cain argued, “I only oversee the development of the supercomputer. Quarrels about the spread of information should be taken up by the marketing department, not me, I am a scientist.”

     “Well you are here now, professor Cain, now is your chance to tell the people everything they need to know about the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer. The people want to know more about the genetic database, that is why we invited the both of you here today.” 

     Professor Cain froze. He looked back to the production space, past the bright lights, the cameras and the show director and producers. His gaze bounced from one person to another, he was looking for someone; a familiar face. Finally, he caught on to someone, a colleague of his from the institute who was rushing through the production crowd through the set. He walked hurriedly towards the director, and whispered something in his ear. Everyone on the set was worried, they were whispering amongst themselves while they glanced at professor Cain. The director stood from his seat and looked at professor Cain, with anger and frustration written all over his face. Professor Cain knew that it could only mean one thing. He switched his gaze to Collins, while the director communicated to him something that they had all been speculating since they began airing. Collins shook his head in disappointment. He faced away from the camera briefly, something that he never usually did. He grabbed the cue cards from the table and looked back at the camera, amused by the entire situation.

     “...Unfortunately,” Collins Tangaza began, “Ladies and gents, it seems as though our final guest could not make it today. I have been informed that she has been... held up someplace else. We apologize for any inconvenience that this may have caused, and we will definitely schedule another interview with her in the future. Professor Cain, thank you for your time.”

    “Thank you for having me, Collins.” Professor Cain replied nervously.

     Later, while the production crew was busy clearing up the set, professor Cain and his colleagues were in his dressing room, discussing what had just happened. Professor Cain’s phone kept ringing, but he had no intention of answering any calls. He stared at the vanity mirror as his colleagues talked amongst each other, staring at his own reflection. He detached from reality for a moment. He touched his face and felt his skin. He blinked repeatedly. He began paying attention to the conversations that were going on around him; those of his colleagues and those of the production crew members who walked through the corridor past his dressing room. He turned his attention to his reflection again, and he realized that he could no longer recognize the man that looked back at him. His own reflection was like that of a stranger. Professor Cain had no idea who he had become. He was a ghost of his previous self. And even though he breathed, he was barely alive. Soon enough, he thought, the illusion of death that plagued his being would soon become reality. At that very moment, he heard Collins Tangaza’s voice blasting through the corridor, “Where is he?” He demanded, “Where is Cain?” It was only a matter of time, professor Cain thought, as he heard his footsteps drawing closer and closer towards his dressing room. Collins marched towards his dressing room with an envoy of production crew members. He furiously kicked the door open and stood there in silence as everybody watched, not knowing what he was about to do. Professor Cain dared not turn back to face him after what happened. He instead watched Collins Tangaza’s reflection on the mirror. Collins Tangaza was a dark-skinned, slender and tall man, around his mid 40’s. He was always sharply dressed and wore the same vintage watch on his left hand. On his shows, his face was mostly welcoming, albeit he had to switch to his no-nonsense face whenever he became totally immersed in the interview. However, as professor Cain continued staring at his reflection on the vanity mirror, the face that looked back at him was completely alien. Collins had become one with his rage and frustration.  

     “Listen here Cain,” Collins Tangaza barked, “Whatever game you and that girl are playing I want no part of it. I invite you here to my show, 3 times. I give you a platform to talk to the people and this is how you repay me? You embarrass me, in front of a live audience. You make me look like an idiot who doesn’t plan before he does things. You told me to wait. You told me by the time I finished interviewing you, she would be here. You lied to me and made me look like a fool in front of my entire crew. I don’t know how I’m going to recover from this, how are we going to explain this to them? Do you people think that this is some sort of joke? Do you not understand the people we work for Cain? Do you not understand what is at stake here? Lives! our lives! I will try to salvage this, I'm going to have to make up a good excuse for what just happened, and I suggest you do the same. But the next time you need to do an interview, don’t ever call my studio.” With that final word, Collins Tanagaza stormed out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. The production crew scattered all over the corridor, rushing to get back to work before Collins Tangaza focused his rage on one of them. Professor Cain’s eyes stayed fixed on the mirror. He pondered on Collins’ words, further confirming his earlier thoughts. He grabbed his phone from the vanity and looked at it. He had several missed calls from a private number, and that could only mean one thing. He stared at his phone and a cloud of worry suddenly overcame him. The lights suddenly became brighter and conversations became louder. The situation was bad and he knew it, 

   ‘How can I fix this?’ He thought to himself,

   ‘Beatrice, what have you done?’

     That same morning, at the institute, Beatrice was racing through the corridors towards the elevator. Students were walking up and down the hallways, conversing with each other, preparing for the morning classes. “Good morning Dr.Donohan.” Beatrice heard repeatedly as she walked by several groups of students. Even though Beatrice did not teach any class, even within the Advanced Genetic Engineering department, she was quite popular around the institute. The students and her peers alike, respected her. They were all aware of her great achievements and tenacious nature. They all admired her and desperately wanted to be like her. Beatrice knew this, and she revelled in the fact that she was somewhat of a silent public figure around the institute. She got to the 7th floor, hopped out of the elevator and walked towards the Advanced Genetic Engineering department. Her eyes immediately caught on to Jessica who was busy at the front desk. She was pulling out files from the shelves and arranging them inside some boxes that were perched on top of the desk. Beatrice walked towards her, “Jessica,” she announced, “You are here early.”

     “Yes,” Jessica replied, swiftly turning towards Beatrice, “The movers should be coming any day from now and I wanted to start organizing everything.”

     “Isn’t Alice supposed to be organizing the files?” Beatrice argued, “Don’t you have classes today?”

     “No I don’t,” Jessica replied, “But even if I did, I don’t trust her to organize all your files. She might forget something or lose something important.”

     “I don’t think Alice will take too kindly to you insinuating that she doesn’t know how to do her job.”

     “The problem is, I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Jessica joked.

     “Alright then. If you insist on gathering the files on your own then be my guest. I’ll be having a private session in A.G.E. lab 3.” Beatrice dictated, “If there will be any class scheduled to use it between now and the afternoon, tell the class representative to reschedule to another time.” 

     “I’ll see to it that no one disturbs you, Dr.Donohan.” Jessica assured her. 

     Beatrice walked away from the desk and into the corridor, further into the Advanced Genetic Engineering department. She walked past the offices, there was a long queue of students outside the dean’s door. Each of them, Beatrice noted, had a letter in their hands. They all seemed nervous as they stood silently in line against the wall. ‘It must be that time again’ Beatrice thought to herself. She walked past the dean’s office and stopped next to the notice board when she saw it, rows and rows of dean’s lists plastered back to back against the board. She scanned through each list, searching for the second year’s list. Just as she expected, it was at the top, front and center for everyone to see. She took a good gander at it and noted that there were 35 names on that list. “This must be a joke.” Beatrice said aloud, grabbing the attention of the students in the queue.  She turned towards the queue and singled out one of them, the first person that her gaze landed on. “You there,” she called out to the boy that was first in line, “Are you a second year B.G.E student?” She asked. The boy was startled. He looked around and realized that everyone else, including Beatrice, was staring at him, waiting for an answer. “Umm… yes.. Yes I am… Dr.Donohan.” He stuttered. 

     “Are you looking to apply for a place here in the advanced department?” Beatrice inquired.

     “Umm...Yes I am.” The boy answered.

     “Alright. Do you think you have what it takes to be one of us?”

     “According to my grades, Dr.Donohan, I think I will be a great addition to the Advanced Genetic Engineering department.”

     “You seem quite confident.”

     “I've been preparing to join A.G.E since I came here. I know I have what it takes.”

     Beatrice looked at the boy and analyzed him. He was quite short, shorter than most of his ‘second year’ peers. He was dressed in official attire and was quite tidy. It was unusual to find a student dressed so elegantly, Beatrice pondered, especially on an average Tuesday. She knew that there was something going on. The boy seemed nervous, but still managed to look Beatrice in the eye, confidently and answer her without any hesitation. However, from every peculiar observation she had made, and her prior knowledge about humans in general, Beatrice knew that there was more to him than what he was leading her to believe.

     “Step forward,” Beatrice ordered, “Show me your name on this list.” There were low murmurs around the corridor as the other students in the queue flocked to see what was going on. The boy hesitated and started to look around the corridor. No one else dared to speak, not while Beatrice was there. He walked towards the notice board and took a deep breath. He scanned the notice board, probably looking for the second year’s list, Beatrice concluded. She took a step back and watched as he struggled to identify the second year’s list, a class that he claimed to belong to. The other students watched helplessly while they whispered to each other in low tones, sneaking glances at the boy and Beatrice. After a while, Beatrice got bored and took a step towards the notice board, “You’re not really a second year, are you?” She asked. The boy sighed,

     “No I'm not.” He responded while he retreated from the notice board.

     “Why are you going to see the dean?” Beatrice asked him in a low tone.

     “The truth is,” the boy explained, “I’m failing miserably. I barely made it through my first year. I got a letter yesterday saying that I would be discontinued from B.G.E because my grades haven’t been good. So I came to plead my case to the dean.”

     “How are you failing in your first year of an introductory course?” Beatrice asked, “You haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet.”

     “Besides from the fact that there is too much content to read for? I could tell you 100 other reasons why.” Beatrice shook her head and stared at the boy briefly,

     “What’s your name?” She inquired.

     “Frederick Wenber.” The boy replied.

     “Well Frederick, I want to give you some free advice. You can take it or leave it, I don’t really care. If for some reason the dean decides to give you a second chance and you take it and end up finishing the introductory course, in your mind, you will think that you did something and you’ll decide to stop there, because it’s too much reading, so you say. But let me tell you what happens in the real world. You’ll come out of K.I.S.T with your diploma and start looking for a well-paying job. But you’re not going to find any, because no one hires B.G.E graduates. That is a known fact, that’s why there is a very long queue behind you. Because every single B.G.E student knows that to be able to have the skills required to be a credible genetic engineer in Kamasha, you have to graduate with honours from the advanced course as well.” Frederick gasped. Beatrice had given him a reality check, something that no one else in his life had ever done before. He stared at the floor as Beatrice spoke and held onto his discontinuation letter in his hand, embarrassed to even look her in the eye.

     “I’m only telling you this,” Beatrice continued, “Because I know that you want this, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered to ask for a second chance. But be warned, genetic engineering isn’t for the weak at heart. If you’re serious about pursuing it, you better be ready to give it your all, or don’t bother doing it at all.”

     Beatrice walked away from the notice board, leaving Frederick to ponder on his future. She walked past the offices and took a right turn into the laboratory wing and walked towards the end of the corridor, to lab 3. She rummaged through her bag, took out her key, unlocked the door and walked in. She stood at the door and took a deep breath, ‘today is the day’ she thought. She locked the door, put her keys back in her bag and placed it on the front bench. She walked towards the cupboard that was at the right corner of the lab, opened it, took out her lab coat and wore it. She started racing throughout the lab, with a list in her hand, picking out everything that she needed and placing them on the front bench right next to her bag. She walked to the back of the lab and bent over towards the storage cabinets and opened it. She took out one of the tiny portable refrigerator cases, placed it on top of the cabinet and plugged it into the socket to charge. She then turned towards the lab refrigerator that was right next to the cabinets and opened it. She scanned it until she saw what she needed, vials of her recently approved Y-chromosite gene that were stored at the lower section. She bent towards them and carefully took some vials out. She held them up, one by one against the dim light that was coming from the windows, inspecting each of them to assess their viability. Beatrice then rushed to put the vials inside the portable refrigerator. She also took some other vials of serum from the refrigerator and placed them inside the case. She took out her list from her pocket and went through it again, checking whether she had everything that she needed. She peered into the portable refrigerator to confirm whether she had stored everything safely and closed it. She then checked it again, this time, she noticed a blinking bright red light, ‘I hope it will be done charging by the time I’m done here’ she thought. She took another deep breath to calm herself and looked around the lab.

      It was a cloudy day in North Kamasha, there was barely any sunlight penetrating into the lab. Beatrice walked towards the door and turned on the light switch, illuminating the room. She stared at the whiteboard for a while before she realized that time was not on her side. She checked her watch, “It’s almost noon,” she murmured, “Time to refresh my memory.” Beatrice walked onto the platform in between the front bench and the whiteboard. She opened one of the drawers, took out a blue marker pen and placed it on the bench. She then grabbed her bag and pulled it towards her. She rummaged through it and took out a journal which she opened and placed on the bench and placed her bag aside. She perused through the journal, absorbing information, page by page. She stood in complete silence as she read through her work, picking out the main points and key words and writing them on the whiteboard. She was completely engrossed in her work, her heart was racing as her mind was effortlessly putting information together, piece by piece. Beatrice was in her own world, it was fast paced and silent; the perfect work environment. Suddenly, her train of thought lost all momentum as she noticed an external disturbance. She was jolted back into reality and turned towards the door, someone was attempting to unlock it. Beatrice turned towards the whiteboard and started jotting down information. Suddenly, the door flew open and one of her colleagues, Dr.Rose Stone, furiously barged into the lab.    

     “Dr.Donohan!” Dr.Stone huffed as she charged towards the front bench, “You’ve got some nerve locking yourself in here.” Beatrice stopped and turned around towards her. She stared at Dr.Stone, noticing her tiny frame that was almost always engulfed by her lab coat. Dr.Stone was barely five foot, her lab coat almost swept the floor as she walked. Her bob haircut revealed her heart shaped face which was now red with rage, like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode at any moment. She stood glued to the spot, staring at Beatrice, waiting for an answer, “Well?” She ordered.

     “Dr.Stone,”Beatrice smirked, “To what do I owe this impromptu visit?”

     “This is not a visit,” Dr.Stone interjected, “I have a class here that was supposed to start  20 minutes ago. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

     “I’m not leaving,” Beatrice responded, “I’m busy.”

     “And I have a class to teach. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but this is a learning institution. Students actually pay to use these resources.”

     “It’s just one session Rose, I’m sure you can reschedule.”

     “I can. But I won’t”

     “Then that’s on you. I’m not leaving. Besides, you teach first year B.G.E students. I don’t think anyone who doesn’t understand the difference between an essential and non-essential amino acid should be allowed anywhere near this lab. So do me a favour and take your class to lab 1 or lab 2.” 

     “You seem to think that the world revolves around you, Beatrice. That the rest of us should stop living our lives for you. And on top of that, you can’t even extend the courtesy of asking me permission to use the lab.”

     “Ask permission?” Beatrice chuckled, “From you?”

     “Yes. That was the right thing to do. Not lock yourself in here.”

     “How did you know that I was in here?”

     “Jessica.”

     “She told you?”

     “No. She tried to come up with an excuse to cover for you. I know she wouldn’t do that for anyone else besides you.”

     “Fair enough.”

     “So why are you in here?” Dr.Stone inquired. She dragged a stool and took a seat next to the front bench.

     “Yesterday, I got a call from my secretary. She told me that a couple had come to the clinic to book a consultation appointment.”

     “That’s fantastic!” Dr.Stone exclaimed, “Your first clients.”

     “If the appointment goes well,” Beatrice responded, “It’s today in the afternoon.”

     “So you came in here to get ready.”

     “Indeed. I also needed to get samples of the gene for a demonstration. But the only way I could safely transport them to the clinic was in the portable refrigerator cases.” Dr.Stone turned around and saw the portable refrigerator perched on the cabinet, the red light was still blinking, “How long ago did you start charging it?” She asked.

      “About an hour ago.” Beatrice replied.

      “The case needs at least 3 hours of charging for maximum chilling time.”

      “It only takes 1 ½ hours to get to the research center from here. I don’t have any other way to safely transport the gene and the demonstration serums.”

      “Hopefully you don’t run into any problems on your way,” Dr.Stone commented as she turned towards Beatrice, “How are you feeling?”

     “I’m not anxious about the appointment,” Beatrice answered, “But I am anxious about the couple. I have to convince both of them that the Y-chromosite gene is the best option for them.”

     “You’ve been working on this gene for almost 14 years now. You know all the ins and outs.”

     “When has that ever been enough?” Beatrice protested as she stared at her journal, “This is a new technology, something that has never been done before. What if they get second thoughts about it?”

     “Then there isn’t much you can do to change the situation,” Dr.Stone argued, “Your job was to come up with an invention, develop it and get it into the market. You did that, you’ve done your part. You have all the information you need in order to convince that couple that the Y-chromosite gene is for them. Once you do your part, the rest is up to them.”

     “Do you think they will go for it?” Beatrice inquired genuinely.

     “I wouldn’t be letting you use the lab if I didn’t.” Dr.Stone responded. Beatrice looked up from her journal and stared at Dr.Stone, she briefly smiled at her. 

     “Besides,” Dr.Stone continued, “You are the machine behind the gene itself. So if they believe in you and your story, they will trust that the gene will work for them. Because they believe in you.” Beatrice turned and looked at the whiteboard. She scanned it, absorbing each piece of information that she needed. She wanted to make sure that she didn’t forget anything that might be vital for the appointment. They stayed in silence for a while as Dr.Stone aimlessly looked around the lab.

     “Did you see that long line outside of the dean’s office?” Beatrice asked, breaking the silence, “It was insane.”

     “What do you mean?” Dr.Stone inquired, “I only saw three people waiting in line.”

     “Only three?” Beatrice chuckled, “I could have sworn there were more people there when I came.”

     “Ooh!” Dr.Stone blurted out, “Before I forget, Professor Cain was looking for you.” Beatrice froze on the spot and stared at the board in silence for a while,

     “What did he want?” She inquired nervously.

     “He told me that he had trouble reaching you, that his calls weren’t going through. So I told him I would look for you. Then I tried calling you but my calls also weren’t going through.”

     “I switched off my phone when I got here,” Beatrice explained, “I didn’t want to be disturbed while I prepared for the consultation.”

     “Uh huh,” Dr.Stone mumbled, “So you switched off your phone this morning when you got here?”

     “That’s right.” Beatrice answered hastily.

     “I really want to believe that,” Dr.Stone expressed, “But I can’t. Because you... are lying to me.” Beatrice turned and looked at Dr.Stone. She grabbed the journal from the bench and turned back to the board, “What makes you think that I am lying about that?” She asked.

      “The conversation that I had with professor Cain didn’t happen this morning. It happened yesterday night. I didn’t think much of it, then I remembered that yesterday morning, Alice came to the conference room looking for you as well. She told me that representatives from K.B.C were calling her... looking for you.” Beatrice lowered the journal and stared at the board, ‘Does she know?’ she thought. Dr.Stone stared at Beatrice, who was glued to the spot and quiet, “You’re hiding something,” she concluded, “What’s going on Beatrice?”

     Beatrice took a deep breath and turned away from the board. She tried her best to avoid Dr.Stone’s stares but she couldn’t keep it up any longer. It was time that she told her the truth, ‘Here goes nothing’ she thought to herself. She walked towards Dr.Stone and pulled up a seat. She sat down and looked around the lab before she hesitantly began to speak.

     “Do you remember when we were still doing our bachelor’s here? How we hoped that one day we would be able to come up with our own inventions and technologies that would put the advanced genetic engineering team on the map?”

    “Yes I remember,” Dr.Stone replied, “That was such a long time ago.”

    “Here we are now. I was finally able to complete the Y-chromosite gene after all those years stuck in development. I’m finally able to get it into the market. This is a dream come true for me. But lately... it doesn’t feel that way.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Do you remember when I came to you with the idea for the gene? And I told you that I wanted to present it to professor Cain.”

     “Yes I do. You practically begged me to help you present it to him.”

     “He was more excited for it than we were. He always encouraged us to try new tactics and think outside the box. He was always there to guide us, to help out whenever we got stuck and to provide us with everything that we needed to kickstart the development.”

     “Yes I remember all of that,” Dr.Stone affirmed, “Where is all this heading to?”

     “You would think that... after all those years that the gene was stuck in development... to finally get the resources to be able to complete it, that he of all people, would be in a frenzy about it.”

     “I don’t understand,” Dr.Stone said, “He was thrilled Beatrice. I’m sure of that.”

     “When I went to him after I got certification for the gene technology from the medical board, do you know what he said to me?” Dr.Stone stared at Beatrice, she assumed that the question was rhetorical and waited for an answer. “He said,” Beatrice stated, “Good work. What’s our progress on the genetic database design?” Dr.Stone gasped. She turned away from Beatrice and thought about it for a while,

     “Is that the reason why you didn’t go for the interview with him?” She inquired.

     “He told me that the Kamashan people were starting to question the true purpose of that genetic database. That we were supposed to go on the interview to give them more information about it to help ease their worries.”

     “So why didn’t you go?” Dr.Stone persisted.

     “Because I share their sentiments as well.”

     “You are sceptical about the database as well?” 

     “Not the database. The people behind it.”

     “Isn’t the database a part of Dr.Schully’s resource management project?”

     “No it’s not,” Beatrice answered sharply, “I have all of Dr.Schully’s journals. I’ve read all of them and analyzed every single thing she said. She never mentioned the use of a genetic database. It was added into her resource management project.”

     “They? Who are these people that you are talking about?”

     “I have no idea who they are, or what their plans are with this database but I don’t want to be a part of it.”

     “You can’t just drop out of the project,” Dr.Stone argued, “You are professor Cain’s right hand. Not to mention one of the best genetic engineers this institute has ever seen.”

     “I’m conflicted and I don’t like it.” Beatrice stated.

     “How about you ask professor Cain about it. Hear what he has to say first before you drop out of the project.”

     “I don’t think he knows what’s going on,” Beatrice argued, “He is just a professor. I don’t think he has a leg in things that go on behind the scenes.”

     “Before you jump into conclusions like you always do, ask him first.”

     “I don’t think that conversation will go well.”

     “Ask him, but don’t be too direct,” Dr.Stone advised, “If he knows something that he isn’t telling us about, chances are he won’t be too transparent, that’s when you’ll know.”

     “Okay then,” Beatrice stated, “I’ll ask him about it. You are not to breathe a word of this to anyone else.”

     “I won’t,” Dr.Stone promised, “But I'll ask around, quietly. Maybe someone else knows something that we don’t.”

    “Make sure you get back to me,” Beatrice said. She checked her wrist watch, it was already past noon. She looked to the back of the lab and saw a green blinking bright light, “It’s time for me to go.” She pronounced.

    “You’ll do great,” Dr.Stone stated, “Remember what I told you.” Beatrice rushed towards the back of the lab and unplugged the case from the socket. She opened it and a chilly breeze immediately rushed towards her face. She checked on the vials containing the gene, they were completely chilled, safe and securely stored along with the other demonstration serums. She grabbed the portable refrigerator and rushed back to the front bench, she gathered all the equipment that she had laid on top of the desk and tossed them into her backpack. She carried her backpack on her shoulders while she held onto the portable refrigerator. She then briefly stared at Dr.Stone and nodded at her before she quickly rushed out of the lab, through the A.G.E department corridors towards the front desk, where Jessica was still busy organizing the files. She walked towards the edge of the desk, “Jessie,” she called out, “I’m leaving now.”

     “Dr. Donohan,” Jessica replied as she turned towards Beatrice, “Did you get everything that you need?”

     “I hope so,” Beatrice responded, “Make sure you get all my files and documents ready for the move.”

     “I’ll be done by the end of the week. Is today really your last day here in North Kamasha?”

     “Who said anything about that?” 

     “Word travels fast here in the institute. Even if you don’t say anything, people tend to find out about things. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me about it.”

     “Was I obligated to do that?”

     “You do understand that my whole existence in this institute is highly dependent on the fact that everyone thinks that I am your assistant, right?

     “Listen, Jessie. I understand that you are feeling upset right now but I am already running late so I’m going to ignore this conversation and walk away. Make an appointment with miss Young, then we can talk about you possibly becoming my assistant.”

     “No way! Are you serious about that?” Jessica asked ecstatically. Beatrice smiled at her and began to walk away from the desk. She hoped into the elevator and looked back to Jessica who was still in awe, staring back at her, “We’ll talk about it later.” She shouted.

      “Have a great trip!” Jessica yelled as the elevator doors were closing. Beatrice wasted no time rushing through the corridors when she got to the ground floor. She hurried out of the institute and walked towards her car which she had conveniently parked right in front of the main building. She hopped in and drove through and out of the compound into the main road to begin her long journey to West Kamasha, to the Interregional Research Center.

     Beatrice had been driving through North Kamasha for about 50 minutes before she got to the North-West outskirts; a residential boundary between North Kamasha and West Kamasha. There was a long convoy of vehicles lined up towards the West Kamasha main entrance where credentials were checked and vehicles were inspected thoroughly by armed guards before anyone was allowed to enter into the premises. There was tight security around the area. Surveillance cameras were plastered all over the wall while barbed wires lined them to prevent any unwanted people from getting in. Once Beatrice got to the check-point, she noticed a familiar face talking to the driver that was ahead of her. It was Lonzo. And if his badge was anything to go by, he was now the head of security at the entrance. He was short and looked quite plump, Beatrice noted, compared to the last time that she had seen him all those years ago. His white freshly-ironed shirt glared underneath Waaridei’s bright light while his dark pants completed his official attire. His face, much like his entire body was swollen. He wore dark sunglasses which he adjusted repeatedly. He had a slight slouch in his posture when he stood and had a small notepad on his right hand. Lonzo walked over to check her credentials while other guards were inspecting her car. Once he noticed her, he lowered his sunglasses from his eyes and  a large smile cracked on his face, “Miss Donohan!” He exclaimed in a cool monotoned voice, “Strange seeing you around here.” Beatrice smiled back at him, “Lonzo,” she responded, “You know why I’m here.”

     “You came to see the folks?”

     “You are even funnier than I remember,” Beatrice chuckled, “I work here now. I'm moving back to the West.”

     “That’s odd.”

     “Why is that odd, Lonzo?”

     “When you left for college you swore that you would never come back here.”

     “Indeed I did,” Beatrice replied, “But that was before I knew the research centre would be built here.”

      “So that’s why you’re back. You’re on the job.”

      “Actually, this inspection is taking up a lot of my time. So if we could just wrap this up. I don’t think you’re going to find anything suspicious in my car.” Lonzo looked at Beatrice and smirked. He ushered to the guards that were inspecting the car, “Miss Donohan can go,” he ordered, “She used to be a resident here.” The guards promptly halted the inspection and moved away from the car. Beatrice drove through the check-point and stopped while Lonzo followed behind her to give her a resident sticker for her car. “You be safe now, Miss Donohan.” He said as he buzzed the main gate open, allowing Beatrice into the West Kamashan premises.

     “I will. One more thing Lonzo,” Beatrice replied as she ushered him to come closer to the car, “It’s Dr.Donohan.” 

     Beatrice drove into the street. There were trees on both sides, lining the way leading up to the infamous West Kamashan Boulevard. West Kamasha was a posh residential area, with a few businesses here and there; those that only the wealthiest could afford to buy from. They had the best early learning institutions, social spaces, health facilities and housing structures. This was the home of the Kamashan elites; a small select group of people who had money to spend, save and invest back into their community. It was a tight-knit society. They all knew each other through their respective estates and various social classes. As Beatrice glided through the clean, smooth and freshly tarred streets, she peered through the window and observed the area, a place that she once called home. She saw children racing up and down the streets with their bicycles and skateboards, playing with each other, enjoying the summer warmth of Waaridei. She saw people out in their backyards, having pool parties and barbecues with their families, friends and neighbours, drinking beers, grilling all sorts of meat while they smiled, laughed and toasted to the good life. She saw others driving past her with their expensive and fast race cars, with their tops down and dark-tinted sunglasses to complete the wealthy look, zooming through the streets, without a care in Avulan. She saw gardeners trimming bushes and tending to the plants and flowers that lined the pavements. They worked gracefully, with large smiles plastered on their faces while they greeted every single person that walked by them. Beatrice could barely contain herself, she was back to where she started, back to the place she fought so hard to get away from. And as she drove past the residential area and got closer to the Interregional Research Center, you could tell that she was disgusted. It was plain as day, written all over her face.

     After driving for about half an hour, Beatrice had finally made it to the Interregional Research Center. She drove towards the gate, where security checked her credentials before she was allowed into the compound. Once she drove in, she parked her car at the first spot that she saw, there was only one other car in the vicinity and she decided to park next to it. She hopped out of the car and walked towards the building. Trucks were moving around the compound. Right away, she noticed the earthy smell of cement and sand being transported by heavy trucks. The noisy construction workers shouted orders to each other from one end of the compound to the other. Beatrice walked into the building towards the front desk. She checked with the receptionist who then proceeded to make a call while Beatrice walked towards the right wing elevator. The smell of fresh paint had engulfed the tiny elevator space. It was unbearable, growing stronger the further up she went. Beatrice could hear the deafening clamours and clatters of metals at intervals, it was vexing, to say the least, but she was willing to endure it all. Once she got to the third floor, Beatrice leaped out of the elevator and walked into the corridor towards the clinic. She passed several rooms on her way, each of them completely unoccupied. Everyone else decided to wait for the entire center to be completely finished before they moved in. It seemed like the most logical thing to do. However, Beatrice could not wait to start her work. She raced towards the clinic which was at the far end of the third floor. Like the entire right wing, the clinic was completely done. The clinic occupied a significant amount of space, something that Beatrice had earlier anticipated. She started to inspect it from a mile away, ‘It looks good,’ she thought as she walked through the corridor, ‘the sign is the only thing left’. She rushed into the clinic and immediately walked towards the reception area to speak with her secretary, Miss Young, who had been eagerly awaiting her arrival. Miss Young was a tall woman, Her legs would always  pierce through the reception platform. She had tan skin and her hair was always tied up in a ponytail, exposing her warm and welcoming face. Once Miss Young noticed Beatrice’s presence, she sprung from her seat and grabbed a file from the counter, “Dr.Donohan!” She exclaimed, “The Gordon-Price’s are here to see you. I have already sent them in.”

     “Good,” Beatrice replied, “Have you taken all their details?”

     “Yes doctor,” Miss Young responded while handing Beatrice the file. Beatrice immediately went through it, making a quick analysis of the personal information. She placed the file underneath her arm and walked past the reception, taking a left turn towards her office. She stood there for a while and turned her head towards the window that was at the end of the corridor. She looked out into the distance and watched as the light from Waaridei settled gently on her skin, warming her hands, and kissed her olive cheeks. She inhaled deeply and stared at the door knob, ‘It’s going to be a piece of cake’ she reassured herself. Beatrice turned the door knob and swiftly made an entrance into the office. Once she got in, she was met with glances from the Gordon-Price’s who turned around to check who it was that came in. Beatrice walked towards her desk which was on the other end of the room. She placed the file onto her desk and wasted no time plugging in the portable refrigerator which she then placed on top of the cabinet that was at the side of the desk. She removed her backpack and placed it aside then proceeded to sit down. She looked over the file again in silence. The Gordon-Price couple glanced at each other. They sat in silence as they watched Beatrice go through their file. They were quite confused, never had they been to a doctor’s appointment where the doctor in question didn’t rush to attend to their needs. However, they would find out soon enough that Dr.Beatrice Donohan was unlike any other they had encountered before.

     “Maria Gordon. Angela Price. I am quite thrilled you were able to make it for our appointment today,” Beatrice expressed, “My name is Dr.Beatrice Donohan.” She proceeded to shake Maria Gordon’s hand, it was warm and smooth. Beatrice observed Maria, she had long brown bouncy hair which followed each movement she made. Her tresses caressed her face, settling ever so lightly on her tan, dewy skin. As they shook hands, Beatrice noticed that her smile grew wider and her cheeks rested slightly beneath her eyes. Her aura was somewhat of a rarity around Kamasha, Beatrice thought to herself. However, there was something about Miss Gordon that seemed quite familiar. Beatrice then turned her attention to Angela Price who was seated quietly, slouched back onto the seat with both her hands and legs crossed, facing away from her. Her hair was held in a slicked-back bun, exposing her cold uninterested face which was now vulnerable to Beatrice’s investigative gaze. Beatrice became weary of Angela. She knew that she was treading into hostile territory. However, it was going to take much more than a stone cold face to deter her from her goal. “Miss Price,” Beatrice announced as she stretched out her hand towards her. Angela turned her head towards Beatrice and stared at her coldly, she neither spoke nor attempted to shake her hand.   

     “Alright,” Beatrice resigned, “Let’s get on with it then. What can I help you with?”

     “Well, Dr.Donohan, my wife and I heard about the Y-chromosite gene technology,” Miss Gordon stated, “We did our research on it and we think that it might be the best option for us.”

     “While you were doing your research, what did you find out?” Beatrice inquired. Maria glanced at Angela. She flipped her hair back and stared at the ground before her gaze finally landed on Beatrice. Beatrice smiled at her, “Not to worry Miss Gordon,” she said, “I’m going to give you all the information you need. Feel free to ask anything that you need clarification on.”

     “That’s a relief,” Maria sighed, “I have a lot of questions. I hope you won’t mind.”

     “Ask away.” Beatrice responded as she leaned onto the desk. She crossed her hands and focused all her attention on Maria. “Tell me about the gene. How does it work?” Maria asked, “How is the procedure?”

     “The Y-chromosite,” Beatrice explained, “Is a segment of DNA that has mutation inducing capabilities.”

     “What does that mean?”

     “It means that the Y-chromosite has the ability to change the genotypic structure of a particular set of genes. It forces change by removing certain molecules or adding others, wherever necessary.”

     “How is it able to do that?”

     “All genes have the capacity to mutate. However, natural mutations are usually induced by environmental stress. These take quite a while to occur at the genotypic level and may take millions of years for them to be noticeable at the phenotypic level. The Y-chromosite gene is able to bypass this and requires no environmental stress to induce mutations.”

     “How does it work? I mean.. How am I... how are we able to get children using this technology?”

     “I was wondering when you would ask that,” Beatrice responded. She noticed Angela had switched glances towards her and was paying attention. This was the perfect moment for Beatrice to impress her. “Whenever a child is born,” Beatrice explained, “The doctor or nurse delivering the baby will say either two things, it’s a girl or it’s a boy. However superficial that method of categorizing gender is, there is quite a bit of truth in it. This owes to the fact that females usually have the XX chromosomes, while males have XY. Note that there are two pairs of chromosomes, one selected from each parent during the random assortment of genes. This assortment of genes occurs naturally for heterosexual couples whose gametes fuse during the reproduction process. However, the Y-chromosite gene technology is able to carry out the same assortment of genes for same sex or non-gender conforming couples such as yourselves.”

    “How?” Angela blurted out. Beatrice turned towards her, she had successfully peaked her interest and was about to make the most of it. “Well, Miss Price,” Beatrice continued, “The Y-chromosite gene has the ability to mutate any selection of genes that it comes into contact with. But it works best with the  XX/XY sex chromosomes. These changes are observable at the chromosomal level. Since the both of you have the female XX sex chromosomes, the Y-chromosite gene gets to work by first selecting the dominant chromosome from each pair. Once it does this, the dominant chromosomes from each pair are put together again and the Y-chromosite gene selects the dominant of the two. Once the dominant chromosome is identified, it is compared to the recessive chromosome. If there are genes present within the recessive chromosome that are already present in the dominant chromosome, the Y-chromosite gene gets to work mutating them. By the end of the process, there are two completely different chromosomes ready for fusion, the dominant X chromosome and the recessive Y chromosome. These are then combined and introduced into an already prepared egg and the procedure is completed.”

     “Wait,” Angela interjected, “I thought you said females have the XX chromosomes. Why do we end up with both an X and Y?” Beatrice stared at Angela and then glanced at Maria. She remained silent. Angela and Maria glanced at each other, they were both eagerly waiting for an answer. Beatrice sighed and leaned back onto her seat and faced away from them. There was something weighing heavy on her mind, crucial information about the Y-chromosite gene that she discovered years into development. She wasn’t sure how they were going to take the news. “Unfortunately,” Beatrice explained, “The Y-chromosite gene is specifically named. Whenever the gene goes back to ensure that both the dominant chromosome and the recessive chromosomes are genotypically different, it almost always encounters hundreds or thousands of genes that require further mutation. The only problem is, whenever the Y-chromosite gene induces these mutations, the recessive chromosome adopts its Y characteristics, subsequently mutating it into a Y chromosome.”

     “What are you saying Dr.Donohan?” Angela boomed.

     “What I am saying is, the probability of you conceiving a boy is almost always at 98%. The remaining 1% is for any errors that I may have made during development, and the other 1% is your own luck.”

    “So you’re saying that there is no chance for us to conceive a girl? None at all?” Maria whimpered. Beatrice looked into her eyes and nodded hesitantly. Blobs of tears dangled on Maria’s eyes as she struggled to grasp the reality of what Beatrice had just told them. But once the floodgates were opened, she could no longer hold them back. She burst out in tears. Angela sprung into action to comfort her. She held onto Maria tightly and laid her head onto her shoulder as she stroked her hair gently, “It’s okay. It’s alright.” said Angela repeatedly. Beatrice was helpless, she could only watch as the Gordon-Price couple came to terms with the news. She had prepared for every sort of question that they would have asked, she was ready for any hard ball that would be thrown at her, but what she wasn’t prepared for was to end the day, having lost her first potential clients after years of fighting to get the gene into the market. Beatrice wondered how she would salvage the situation. Does she retract the statement she made about the impossibility of them conceiving a girl? Does she lie and promise them that she would try her best to make their dreams come true? Does she resign to her fate and admit her losses? Beatrice thought for a while as Angela continued to console her spouse, when suddenly, a thought came into her mind. Beatrice remembered her conversation with Dr.Stone that morning and she thought to herself, ‘my story. Let them believe in my story’.  

  

     Beatrice rose from her seat and walked towards the front of the desk. She walked towards the middle and sat on the edge. She looked around the room, waiting for Maria to calm down. Angela looked up at her and stared into her eyes. Beatrice could feel her disappointment and sadness from a mile away, even though she did not say it or show it as much as Maria did, Beatrice knew she had let them both down. After a while, Maria started to calm down. Her cries gradually turned into whimpers as her head rose from Angela’s shoulders. “It’s okay.” Angela said as she wiped the tears from her face. Beatrice watched them, how they comforted each other so effortlessly. How they shared in each other's sorrows with care and compassion, even though they seemed to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. The only thing that brought them both together was the love that they had for each other. The concept of their relationship was unfathomable to Beatrice. She had never experienced love quite like that before, if ever, it all seemed so new and alien to her. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now,” Beatrice stated, “I sold you a dream and before you could even take it, I yanked it out of your reach. It’s hard, I know. You feel like you’re not in control of this situation, that once again, life has dealt you with its heavy hand. I know how that feels, to have a goal in your sights, yet it's so far from your reach. You feel like you’re losing everything, that you are at the mercy of fate and destiny.” Beatrice leaned towards Maria whose face was now red, all the joy had drained from her eyes, they were now faucets of sadness. Beatrice looked her in the eyes and held her hand tightly. “Whichever way it goes,” she said softly, “You will still be in control. Whether you compromised or not, boy or girl, whichever you end up with, that will still be your child. Your child, both of you. That is the purpose of the Y-chromosite gene.” Maria stared at Beatrice. She was listening and she smiled at Beatrice briefly. She turned to Angela who had been caressing her back and keeping an eye on her the entire time. They stared at each other as their souls spoke. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, “Come in!” Beatrice exclaimed. Miss Young peered through the door and her gaze landed on Beatrice,   

     “Dr.Donohan,” she said, “There is a professor Cain here to see you. He says it’s urgent.” Beatrice looked down at Maria who had completely calmed down, “I’ll give you two a minute to think about it,” she said as she rose from the desk and walked towards the door, “I’ll be right back.”

     Beatrice closed the door behind her and walked towards the reception. She looked around the waiting area and to her surprise, there was no one there. She turned towards Miss Young, 

    “Where is he?” She asked.

    “He is in the corridor waiting for you,” Miss Young replied. Beatrice walked past the reception and out of the clinic. She turned towards the corridor and saw professor Cain, pacing from one end of the corridor to the other, with one hand on his hip while he massaged his temples with the other. Beatrice approached him cautiously, taking deep breaths as she drew closer towards him. Once professor Cain saw Beatrice, he started charging towards her.

     “The nerve on you!” He snapped, “What is wrong with you Beatrice?”

     “Professor Cain. Good afternoon,” Beatrice attempted to diffuse the confrontation, “If you wanted to see me you should have made an appointment.”

     “I already made an appointment with you. It was supposed to be this morning. At K.B.C studios. Do you remember that?”

     “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for the interview. I had an appointment with a potential couple this afternoon and I was preparing for it the entire morning.”

     “You’ve postponed two interviews and you didn’t even bother to show up for this one. Don’t play dumb with me Donohan. I am not a fool.”

     “I can’t help it if I’m always busy on Tuesdays,” Beatrice argued, “Besides, it’s just an interview.”

     “No, Beatrice, it wasn't just an interview. We were supposed to give the general public information about the genetic database that your team is working on. They needed to get first hand information about it from you.”

     “You are the head of A.G.E, not me. Your information about the database is just as credible as mine. I don’t understand why it was so important that I be there for the interview.”

     “Don’t you understand? We need the people to trust in the project.”

     “You’ve got Dr.Schully parading around Kamasha spreading the word about the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer, telling the people about how great it is and how it will ensure that there is equal resource distribution. This is her project, not mine. If you want someone to accompany you on your press run, go talk to her.”

     “You seem to forget that it is because of this project that you were able to get the gene into the market. You gave me your word that once you were done with it you would help us design the genetic database.”

     “I did. But I was desperate back then. I would do anything to get the gene out of development. Now that it’s done, I’ve had time to think about it and assess what I was actually getting myself into.”

     “What are you saying Donohan?”

     “I am having second thoughts about being involved in this project. All this speculation that has been going on, made me think. What if this is actually a government conspiracy as the people say. What if you are using this genetic database as a means to gather private information from the Kamashan people? I’m just as sceptical as they are, professor. I am the last person they should be getting their information from.”

     “Is that why you didn’t show up for the interview? Because you are drowning in ignorant and silly propaganda?”

    “Is it really professor? Or is it the truth?”

    “The genetic database is not a government ploy to get information from the Kamashan people!” professor Cain insisted, “I don’t understand where you people are getting this information from.”

     “Then tell me one thing professor.”

      “Yes, anything.”

      “Who are the financiers behind this resource distribution project?”

      “I… I can’t tell you that.” professor Cain stuttered.

      “Why not?”

      “Because that is private information.”

      “Do you even know? Or are you also in the dark about it?”

      “Don’t ask questions that might get you in trouble, Donohan. Trust me, you don’t want to go down that road”

      “How can I possibly trust you when you keep things like that from me, professor?” Beatrice argued, “You know something. You just don’t want to say it out loud.”

      “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

      “Well, let me make this easier for the both of us. Starting today I will no longer be working with A.G.E on the genetic database. I quit.”

     “Beatrice, you can’t do that to me, I need your mind on this. Think about everything that I have done for you, the Y-chromosite gene technology. You would have never gotten it off the ground if it wasn’t for me. I gave you all the resources you needed for your development.”

     “I could have gotten those resources from anywhere else,” Beatrice countered, “I would have requested a loan from the bank, or even asked my parents for the money.”

     “We both know that you would never ask your parents for money. And without their help, you never would have got that loan from any bank in Kamasha. You owe me, Beatrice.”

     “I am thankful for all your help, I really am. You have made it perfectly clear that I would have never done it without you. But this is a dangerous game that you are playing. Whoever you’ve gotten yourself involved with, these people that are financing all these projects, they are not to be trusted. And the worst part about all of this, is that you are involving innocent people who only want to do good. Dr.Stone and the entire A.G.E team, Dr.Martin and his robotics team, and most especially Dr.Schully, whose name you’re using as a cover up for this entire charade.”

     “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the Kamashan Population Management Supercomputer is only meant to control resource distribution, there is no conspiracy involved here. I would not be a part of it if it was.”

     “I trust you, professor. I trust Dr.Schully and her intentions for the project, but I don't trust the money. I don’t trust where it's coming from and why we are getting it so easily. So I don’t want any part of this, I’m sorry.”

     “You don’t know what you're doing Beatrice. You are making a mistake.”

     “I know exactly what I am doing. And if you want my help, you will come clean to me.” Beatrice demanded, “Tell me everything you’ve been keeping from us for these past 7 years or I won’t help you ever again.” 

    Professor Cain and Beatrice stared each other down. Professor Cain couldn’t find the words to convince her, he was in quite a predicament. He paced for a while before he walked towards Beatrice and looked her in the eye, “If anything happens,” he said with a low and uneasy voice, “It’s on you.” He adjusted his suit and walked away, disappearing into the corner, as Beatrice stood back and watched him. For a split second, Beatrice wondered whether she had done the right thing by dropping out of the project. She reminisced on professor Cain’s last words, ‘If anything happens. It’s on you’. She wondered what he meant by that. Surely they could find someone else to replace her, was her input crucial in their attempts to build the genetic database? Beatrice thought back to Dr.Stone’s words, she had referred to Beatrice as one of the best genetic engineers the institute had ever seen. It seemed plausible that professor Cain was dreading the idea of working on the project without his right hand, and that’s why he threatened her. Beatrice understood where he was coming from, she took no offence to the threat, but without transparency between the two of them, Beatrice could no longer trust that he had her best interests at heart.

     Beatrice turned around and walked towards the clinic. To her surprise the Gordon-Price’s were just on their way out. Beatrice stood at the door and watched as Maria conversed with Miss Young briefly before she and Angela made their way towards the door, hand in hand. “Miss Gordon. Miss Price. Leaving so soon?” Beatrice asked. Maria smiled at her and turned to Angela. Angela nodded and Maria proceeded to walk out of the clinic. She stopped next to Beatrice, “Thank you.” She said and walked away into the corridor. Beatrice watched her briefly, then turned her attention towards Angela who was standing in front of her. They stood in an awkward silence for a while before Angela began to speak, “We’ve scheduled another appointment for next week,” she said with a deep raspy voice, “We are willing to take the chance. 2% is very slim, but it is still possible.”

     “Yes it is. What got you to change your mind?” Beatrice inquired.

     “Something you said.” Angela responded.

     “I said a lot of things.”

     “Only the things that mattered.” 

Beatrice smirked as she looked at Angela. She stretched out her hand and waited, hoping that it would be different this time round. Angela shook her hand briefly and proceeded to walk out of the clinic, rushing to catch up with Maria. Beatrice slid onto the edge of the door and crossed her hands. She looked around the clinic, to the waiting area and the reception and smiled, ‘this is the first of many’ she thought, elated. She walked towards the reception to Miss Young, “You should go home,” she announced, “I think we had a pretty awesome day.”

     “We sure did, doctor,” Miss Young replied, ecstatic that she had the rest of the evening off, “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning for your appointment.” Beatrice started to walk away from the reception before she realized something, “Tomorrow morning?” she stopped and asked, “I don’t recall having any appointment tomorrow.”

     “Someone called in today,” Miss Young responded, “A young lady called Jessica Deen from the Kamasha Institute of Science and Technology.” Beatrice chuckled, 

     “Ooh,” she replied, “Before you leave, Miss Young, call her and reschedule our appointment to next week Monday.”

     “What time?” Miss young inquired.

     “The afternoon.” Beatrice responded. She walked into her office and grabbed the portable refrigerator. She then walked out of her office and walked further through the corridor, towards another room. She walked into the room and switched on the light, revealing the newly built laboratory that she would be working in from then on. She smiled as she gazed into the room. It was fully furnished, with two large refrigerators at the back, rows of cabinets that contained various scientific instruments for experimentation, a cabinet full of medium sized lab coats with her initials, Beatrice Donohan, ph.D calligraphed onto the top pockets. The laboratory had high ceilings, with low hanging fluorescent lights and bright white walls that completed the sanitary aesthetic that Beatrice was going for. There were four columns of work benches fitted with two sinks each. Beatrice walked past the cupboard to another door, the preparation room. She walked in and switched on the lights. There were shelves and cabinets filled with various chemical reagents, each correctly labelled and safely stored away from direct sunlight and out of anyone’s reach. Past the shelves, next to a tiny window at the end of the narrow room, there was a preparation bench and chair. Just like the main laboratory space, the preparation room was spotless, neat and completely sterile. Beatrice had dreamed of having her own laboratory ever since she graduated. She had always dreaded sharing her workspace with her other colleagues, not to mention the several B.G.E and A.G.E students as well. While she worked, Beatrice felt more in tune with herself. Whichever type of lab that she was in, whether it be professional like the ones back at the institute or the amatuer one that her parents built for her in their backyard when she was in high school, Beatrice appreciated the tranquil and sanitary environment that came along with it.

     She walked back into the main laboratory room towards the back of the lab, towards the refrigerators. She removed all the vials of the Y-chromosite gene and the other demonstration serums from the portable refrigerator and carefully placed them inside one of the main refrigerators. She then bent over to one of the cabinets and placed the portable refrigerator inside. ‘I hope I don’t forget to return this’ she thought, ‘I should give it to Jessie when she comes’. Suddenly, Beatrice became alert. She could hear footsteps, and they were drawing closer towards her. ‘It’s probably Miss Young’ she thought. However, those steps sounded heavy and slow paced. Usually, Beatrice would  hear a click-clacking sound whenever Miss Young walked around the clinic with her high heels. Beatrice also recalled Miss Young’s strides being fast and short. ‘Who is that?’ she pondered. She cautiously walked towards the door, careful that she didn't make a sound to alert whomever was sneaking around the clinic. She peered through the door and tried to focus on the waiting area. She stared for a while, waiting for any movement. She noticed that there was a shadow up against the wall. ‘Someone’s there’ she concluded. Beatrice began to tip toe out of the lab. She quickly took out her phone from her coat pocket, ready to dial for security. She tip-toed past her office towards the waiting area, slowly and silently, she did not want to draw any attention towards her. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest. Large drops of sweat trickled down her face, as she struggled to restrict her breathing. Beatrice made it to the end of the corridor, a step away from the waiting area. ‘Who could it be?’ she pondered. She leaned against the wall and stretched out her head, peering into the waiting area. In that second, she was engulfed in complete silence. Beatrice had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side of that wall, but whatever it was or whomever, she was reluctantly willing to confront it. She gradually peered through the edge of the wall. Her gaze bounced from one chair to another until she got to the furthest one, where she saw a mysterious masculine-looking figure was seated. She looked up to his face and analyzed it cautiously. However, opposite to her expectation, Beatrice realized that it was  a familiar face, and she was not amused. Having noticed her presence, the mysterious figure turned his attention towards her and smiled, “Beatrice,” he stated, “Fancy seeing you here.” Beatrice exhaled deeply. She put her phone back in her pocket and marched furiously into the waiting area towards the man, “I almost called security,” she complained, “How on Avulan you get in here?”

     “In the research center?” The man asked, “Easy, I just came through the door.”

     “No. How did you get into West Kamasha? This is the most secured area in Kamasha. There are cameras all over this place and not to mention the rigorous two step security checkpoint at each entry point. There's no way you got in here legally.”

     “Well. All that matters is that I got in. I had to come see you. We have pressing matters to discuss and I couldn’t reach you on your cell.”

     “What do you mean?” Beatrice inquired, “You were the one who told me to get rid of my old line and get a new one.”

     “I did that to keep you safe,” the man argued, “There is too much surveillance in Kamasha.” He dug into his pocket, took out an inconspicuously looking card and handed it to Beatrice.

     “What’s this?” Beatrice asked.

     “That is an encrypted cell phone line. It’s non-traceable.” he answered, “These are illegal here. You will get in a lot of trouble if it’s traced back to you. So be careful who you give your number to” Beatrice stared at the card and put it in her coat pocket, “Is this the only reason that you came here?” she asked.

     “You know why I’m here Beatrice.”

     “About professor Cain? I already took care of that.” Beatrice responded.

     “Yes, he seemed very frustrated on the Collins Tangaza show this morning. I don’t think he appreciated his right hand hanging him out to dry like that. So what did you say to him?”

     “I told him that I would no longer be a part of the team designing the genetic database if he didn’t tell me about the people financing the project. And just like you said, he refused to come clean about it.”

     “I told you,” the man asserted “That man can’t be trusted. None of them can. What about your other colleagues who are working on the genetic database?”

    “I happened to come across one of them while I was at the institute earlier this morning. Her name is Dr.Rose Stone. I pretended like I was in the dark about the entire situation to find out more about what she knew.”

     “And?”

     “Just like you said, she didn’t know anything as well. I made her curious, and just like you said, she insisted on asking around. Now I have no doubt that professor Cain has been lying to us this entire time.”

     “I’m sorry you had to find out about it this way. I could have been upfront and told you about it, but I wanted you to find out for yourself. That way, from now on, you will trust what I tell you.”

     “How do you know about all this?” Beatrice asked, “How did you know about professor Cain’s involvement with the Kamashan government, the genetic database, about me?”

     “Unfortunately, my dear, that’s not something that I can explain to you. I only ask that you trust me, I will not lead you astray.”

     “How can I be sure of that?”

     “Is there anything that I have told you since we met that you have found out to be a lie?”

     “No. But that still doesn’t guarantee that you won’t betray me along the way, just like professor Cain did.”

     “The difference between professor Cain and I, is that I don’t work while staring down the barrel of a gun. I don’t live a double life; forced to be a different person in the light, while my true self cowers in the darkness. I am no puppet. And most especially, my information and orders don’t come from greedy, high ranking government officials.”

     “So where do you get your information from?” Asked Beatrice.

     “From the Universe.” the man answered boldly.

     “The universe?” Beatrice chuckled, “How does one get information from the universe?”

     “It’s quite simple, actually,” the man replied as he stood from his seat, “You are either chosen or you train yourself to listen when She speaks. I happen to have been chosen.”

     “Chosen by who?” Beatrice asked, “The universe?”

     “You could say that. It is because I was chosen, that I can hear the Universe speak to me. She guides me, tells me what I need to do, and shows me where I need to go. She led me to you,”

     “Why?” Beatrice asked, “Why me?”

     “You are a scientist, Beatrice. You have spent years learning the different languages of the universe. You understand it well, how things work and how things came to be. You have the skills required to convey the messages of the universe to the human kind, to translate those messages into new technologies which will bring change and elevate human kind to the next level. You already did it once. And I have been sent to you to help you do just that.”

     “So you’re saying that the universe wants me to come up with more technologies. The Y-chromosite gene technology took me 14 years to develop, how am I supposed to create something like that again?”

     “I will tell you, in due time. For now, I've told you all that you need to know.”

     “But I still have so many questions.”

     “I know you do, and I will answer all of them, when the time comes. Do not be anxious. You are going to do great things Beatrice, in this lifetime and any others to come… if any. All you have to do is trust me.”

     “Okay. What do you need me to do?” Beatrice replied.

     “Dr.Doreen Schully.” said the man.

     “What about her?”

     “She is a part of something great. An important piece to a very complex puzzle. I need you to get close to her.”

      “I don’t think I can do that,” Beatrice argued, “Doreen and I are two very different people. I’ve only talked to her a couple of times and I don’t think we would get along with each other.”

     “I see,” the man replied as he walked closer to Beatrice. He took a seat next to her and stared into the distance, “Do you know why I sent the Gordon-Price’s to see you today?” he asked.

     “Because we agreed if I opted out of the interview you would give me my first clients.”

     “Yes that was our agreement. But I purposely sent them, I could have sent any other couple, but I sent the Gordon-Price’s for a reason. Because Angela and Maria’s dynamic is a preview of your dynamic with Dr.Schully.”

     “What? How do you know that?”

     “I just do. You’ve seen them. They are on opposite sides of the same coin. But they love each other, they care for each other. That’s why they work with each other so well.” the man explained. Beatrice thought back to her appointment with the Gordon-Price’s and confirmed everything that he was saying.

     “What do you want me to do?” She asked.

     “I want you to get close to Dr.Schully. Get to know about her and let her get interested in you. Get her to care about you, then afterwards, you can come clean to her about what the Kamashan government is actually doing with her resource management project.”

     “I don’t know if I can do that,” Beatrice argued, “How can I possibly make her get interested in me?”

     “You give her something that she can only get from you,” the man promptly answered, “This whole plan is dependent on you Beatrice. Don’t let me down.” He stared at her, Beatrice was deep in thought. She was going through different scenarios in her head as thoughts raced through her mind. ‘What could I possibly give to Dr.Schully that she can’t get from somewhere else?’ 

     “Okay,” Beatrice said, “I’ll do it.” The man nodded his head, he stood from his seat and began to walk towards the door. “Wait!” Beatrice exclaimed, “Can you at least tell me your name?” The man stopped and looked back at Beatrice. She noted that he was extremely calm. She wasn’t sure whether she would get an answer from him, but she hoped that she would. This mysterious man, whom she had only met twice before, was asking her to trust in him. He was asking that she trust in someone whom she knew nothing about. Someone who had been lurking around Kamasha like a fugitive. She needed to know more about this man, and even though he had not led her astray, she needed to know that he could be vulnerable, that was the only way that Beatrice could trust in him completely. And the man knew this, he could tell what she was thinking as she stood looking at him from a distance. He could tell that Beatrice was demanding more from him; a tooth for a tooth. Trust is a two way street, both the man and Beatrice thought as they stared at each other in silence. The man walked out of the clinic when suddenly, he stood at the corridor and looked back at Beatrice,

     “My name,” he said boldly,

     “Is Philip Arbury.”