Part 11 (2/2)

After portioning out everything that she needed, she flipped on the power supply switch. A dial spun around and settled as she set it at 20 mA. Right away, powder-like bubbles began to rise from within the immersion tub.

”Finally,” Asakura said as she stretched. The immersion process would take close to three hours. She was free to do whatever she wished in the meantime.

It was just past eleven. If she stayed here and read, she was bound to fall asleep. She thought it might be best to go home for a while and take a bath.

She left the isotope ward and returned to her office. Taking her bag from her locker and turning off the lights, she went out into the hallway and locked the room.

It was about time she started preparing for her speech. She was to give an oral presentation at the annual meeting of the j.a.panese Biochemical Society in September.

Tos.h.i.+aki and a fellow colleague, along with a few students, had been invited to present their work. Asakura was nearly finished with the research she needed to complete for the meeting, with only two or three experiments remaining to be done.

She wondered just how long Tos.h.i.+aki would continue to a.n.a.lyze Eve 1. She was suspicious. The conference should have been his first priority right now.

As the lights had already been shut off, the corridor was dark, giving her an eerie feeling as she walked down its length. A lukewarm draft blew uncomfortably past her cheek.

Her sandals made unsettling echoes as they slid along the floor, their sounds seeming to hang in the thickly saturated air behind her.

Asakura could not stop thinking about how bizarre those cells were. Not only were they abnormal, it was almost as if they emanated some tangible force.

She honestly wanted nothing more to do with them, but could not very well say so to Tos.h.i.+aki. Though she had obediently worked on the experiments so far, it did not stop her from being gripped by a certain fear now and then.

Ever since she was little, Asakura sometimes had moments where she knew that she would be sick the next day, or get the feeling that they would lose a volleyball match. While they were trifles, these brief flashes of intuition affected her deeply. They always made the hair on her neck stand on end with an almost painful itch.

It was this same sensation now, growing stronger with each day working on those cells.

Asakura understood Eve 1 not by observation, but by intuition.

It horrified her. It would not normally have bothered her so much, were she not constantly working late nights with no one else around. In the lab she could distract herself with the radio, but music was not allowed in the isotope room. Maybe that was why she felt so vulnerable today.

She prayed that Tos.h.i.+aki would soon relieve her of any further work on the cells, but her wish was not likely to be granted any time soon. His attachment to Eve 1 was unnatural.

Ever since Eve 1 yielded such intriguing information, his att.i.tude had become quite cheerful.

Compared to the days after his wife's accident, he certainly seemed to have regained his former self. But that changed as soon as he began working on Eve 1. He would then take on the look of an obsessed man. Asakura was afraid to speak to him at such times, which made things even more difficult since she was dying to ask him all about Eve 1.

Tos.h.i.+aki did more than keep the cells alive. They were actually growing. It was as if they were...

Asakura held her shoulders.

It was as if they were happy.

Nonsense, she thought, forcing herself to deny what was already clear to her. As she started up the stairs, her feet instinctively picked up speed. She kept telling herself that it was nothing, that she was worrying too much. But she ran as fast as she could, wanting more than anything to get home.

11.

”We all have countless parasites living inside us,” the stately professor began his lecture.

A large paper sign hanging in front of the stage read: ”BIOFUNCTIONAL PHARMACEUTICALS COURSE, PROFESSOR MUTSUO Is.h.i.+HARA.” He was a man in his early fifties. His hair was graying, but his voice had vigor.

Despite being a lecture hall, the rectangular room seated only ISO people and was much smaller compared to the liberal arts auditoriums, which typically accommodated over 300 students. Because the number of students in the School of Pharmaceutical Sciences during any given year tended to be small, this s.p.a.ce was more than sufficient. Kiyomi took a seat closer to the back where the stairs ascended and looked down at the seats below. There were least 50 people in attendance, half of whom were probably pharmaceuticals students.

There may have been a few from other departments like herself, but she suspected that nearly everyone there was actually enrolled in the Biofunctional Pharmaceuticals course. There were some auditors who were in their fifties and sixties, but no one in their teens.

One of the auditorium windows had been left open to let in the breeze. A cool draft flowed past her cheek and the sound of rustling leaves wafted gently towards her like ripples upon water. She glanced outside at the fresh green foliage sparkling in the sunlight.

Kiyomi was now in her third year of college. Her freshman and soph.o.m.ore years had gone by in the blink of an eye. She had been very active so far, taking notes in every cla.s.s, continuing with bra.s.s ensemble practice, helping manage the annual music festival, comparing notes with friends and trying her best not to miss a test. She even managed to relax now and then by going on group trips and ski weekends with cla.s.smates.

”So, are you getting an interns.h.i.+p next year or what?”

She'd had a sudden wakeup call when a friend blurted out this question one day.

Kiyomi realized she still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She had somehow completely glossed over the uncertainty which troubled her so much in high school. Now that college was half over, she knew this was the time to make decisions about her future. Even so, she had yet to feel motivated.

It was only June, but the days were warm. Refres.h.i.+ng summerly winds shook the branches of the shading trees and her white s.h.i.+rt fluttered. The skies were constantly overcast through fall and winter, but now they had cleared up beautifully, drenching the buildings and pavement with much needed sunlight.

Kiyomi was taking this opportunity to attend a public lecture being offered at the School of Pharmaceutical Sciences. Every year on the second Sunday of June, the school's faculty held free educational lectures open to the public in an attempt to dispel misconceptions about their field. The school's chair and profs would outline their research in some detail; this year, they were also going to discuss the basics of medicinal plants and devote some time to charged issues like drug side-effects and the AIDS virus. The s.p.a.cious medicinal plant green house, located at the rear of the building, was also opened to the public. Visitors were invited to have a small picnic outside. The event had been popular for quite some time, but Kiyomi had never joined in the festivities until a cla.s.smate invited her along.

The day was graced with a clear blue sky and gorgeous weather. Kiyomi took the bus with her friend and arrived at the School of Pharmaceutical Sciences around 9:30 in the morning. Kiyomi's university was typical in that it catered to many personal and academic interests, but it was best known for its various stellar scientific departments. The School of Medical Sciences and its affiliated hospitals were in the northern part of the city, the School of Agriculture was right near the subway station, and the School of Engineering was up in the mountains. The Pharmaceutical Sciences building sat atop a small hill, a five-minute walk from the School of Liberal Arts. When they got off at the bus stop they had a pleasant view of the streets spread out below. Maybe Kiyomi was imagining it, but the breeze seemed cooler up here.

There would be one lecture in the morning and three in the afternoon, each lasting an hour and a half. In the interim, everyone was encouraged to see and explore the greenhouse.

The morning lecture was to begin at 10 o'clock. Kiyomi went into the lobby, where an exhibit about Chinese herbal medicine was on display, and looked over the list of lecture topics. The first was ent.i.tled ”Drug Manufacturing: Chemistry and Pharmacology” and looked to be a talk about the development of pharmaceutical products. Thinking this would be a little over her head, she looked slowly down the list to the afternoon schedule. She read, ”The Benefits of Chinese Medicine,” and ”What is Gene Therapy?” ...

Then, the last topic caught her eye: ”Symbiosis with Mitochondria: The Evolution of Cellular Society.”

THUMP, went her heart.

She clutched her chest at this unexpected reaction. More than a heartbeat, it felt like a cry for help. Her breathing quickened. Her head was on fire. Her hands twitched with the aftereffects of the shock. She held her chest tighter to stop it. A single bead of sweat trickled from her temple down her cheek. She could not tear her eyes away from the words on the poster.

Kiyomi clenched her teeth and inhaled as deeply as she could. The strange beat was long gone, and in its place was her regular pulse, pumping blood.

Yet she was unable to move for a while. Another drop of sweat flowed down her face, following the same trail as its predecessor before falling to the floor.

”What's wrong, Kiyomi?”

Her friend looked worriedly into Kiyomi's face. She shook her head and said it was nothing, then looked up and tried to smile, but managed only a twitch of the lips.

”Really, I'm fine. Let's go in.” Her companion looked worried, but nodded reluctantly and followed her outside.

Just before leaving the lobby, Kiyomi looked back at the poster once again. Why? she wondered. She'd felt the irregular beat when she'd seen the words.

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