“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Are you light headed?’
“A little.”
The car stopped at a light. Manny checked to make sure his door was locked.
“When was the last time you took N-Som?”
“A little while ago.”
Bill nodded. “Do you think maybe you should put the experiment on hold for a little while, get some sleep?”
“NO!”
The doctor flinched at the outburst. Manny tried to tamp down his emotion.
“I mean… I can’t stop now, there’s too much at stake here. This was Dr. Nikos’s dream. I’m okay. I really am. I’m just scared. As you said, I’ve been through a lot.”
A car honked behind them. Manny jerked around. Just an SUV, wanting Bill to go because the light turned green. Bill complied.
“So… what’s it like? Being on N-Som?”
“Like?”
“How does it feel?”
Manny was used to questions. He was asked them every day by the team’s shrink, Dr. Fletcher. The familiarity made him relax a bit.
“It feels normal. You just don’t get tired. Dr. Nikos calls it ZFS-Zero Fatigue Syndrome.”
“Physically or mentally tired?”
“Neither. I can exercise for a very long time. I can also concentrate for extended periods. I never get sleepy.”
“How about when the drug wears off?”
“As long as I take it every 24 hours, the effect never stops. If I miss a dose, I start feeling tired and I know it’s time to take it again.”
Like earlier. Manny couldn’t remember when he’d last taken the drug; the visit to the hospital had interrupted his daily dose. But the fatigue had been an indicator it was time.
“Are there side effects? Does it make you jumpy? Irritable?” He looked at Manny. “Paranoid?”
“N-Som isn’t a stimulant, Dr. May. I’m acting paranoid because people are really after us.”
They drove in silence. It got to Manny, and after a minute he had to talk.
“Look, Doctor, this is an amazing drug. Not only does it replace sleep, it improves your health. I don’t get sick anymore. Dr. Nikos and Theena have injected me with different diseases, and none have any affect. I can gain muscle mass at an amazing rate-in one week my biceps grew two inches. And healing… watch this.”
Manny found the scalpel in his bag and took it out.
“What are you doing?”
He brought the blade up to his cheek and make a shallow cut from his ear to his lip.
“Manny…!”
“Calm down, Doc. I have a pretty high threshold for pain. Now look.”
He lowered the visor and adjusted the vanity mirror so he could watch too.
There was bleeding, but not much. After a few seconds he wiped his cheek with his sleeve to show that it had stopped all together.
“See?” Manny put his fingers on either side of the cut and spread them open. The wound had closed.
“It’s healed?”
“Not completely. My blood clots at the same rate that yours does. But both sides have knitted together already.”
“How is that possible?”
“Sleep promotes healing. While asleep, the glands manufacture chemicals.”
“The pituitary gland. It makes human growth hormone. It’s responsible for building muscle, repairing damage, and a slew of other things. But an abundance of HGH is dangerous, Manny. It produces a condition known as acromegaly. The bones and organs enlarge, causing deformity and ultimately death.”
“Not in my case. N-Som fools the brain into thinking it has slept, and the brain responds by increased hormone production. But my increased metabolism compensates for it. In technical terms, N-Som overrides the superachiasmatic nucleus of the hypothalamus and the midbrain recticular formation, resulting in…”
“I know,” Bill interrupted. “I read the chemical review. N-Som is a synthetic exitatory neurotransmitter. But I didn’t know it affected anything other than the Circadian Clock.”
Manny grinned, his pleasure genuine.
“Pretty amazing stuff, huh? So you understand why this experiment is so important. Once this drug is approved, not only will the productivity of the human race increase, the individual quality of life will too.”
When Bill pulled into the parking lot, Manny saw that they were at the hospital. His smile melted.
“What is this?”
“Unless you can grow your finger back, you need surgery.”
“I told you…”
“Manny, I’ll be with you the whole time. We’ll be safe.”
But Manny knew better. If he went in here, there would be forms to fill out, insurance information, DruTech would be called…
David would find them.
“I can’t…”
“Manny, please be reasonable.”
Manny looked down at his hands. He could live with nine fingers. But eight? Six? Two?
David had threatened to cut them all off if he tried to interfere. That, and worse.
“My finger doesn’t matter, Doc. The Project matters. You, Theena, everyone involved is in danger. He wants to kill all of you.”
“Who, Manny? Who wants to kill us?”
Manny nervously glanced in the rearview mirror. He was so shocked that he yelled.
David.
“You have to get away, Doc. Go!”
Manny pushed out of the car and ran away as fast as he could.
Jack Kilborn
Disturb
When Bill arrived at DruTech, Theena was waiting at the front door. Her lab coat was over another short skirt, and her hair was in a loose ponytail. She hugged him, and Bill felt the tension slip away for the short time she was in his arms.
“What happened?”
Theena was appraising the mark on Bill’s cheek, where Franco had slapped him.
He gave her the whole story as they made their way to the research level. When the elevator stopped, he’d just gotten to the part with Manny.
“He’s okay?”
There was excitement in her voice, perhaps a bit more than Bill found comfortable.
“He says some people took him from the hospital and cut off his finger, but he got away from them. I took him back there so they could reattach it, but he ran off.”
“That poor man. He must be terrified. And you too. Bill, I don’t know how you managed it. You’re very brave.”
Theena kissed him on the cheek.
Bill tried to shrug, but it came out more like a squeak. She took his hand and they left the elevator.
“The others are here-everyone except for Jim Townsend. I left several messages, but haven’t heard from him.”
“Is that normal?”
“For Jim, no. I keep wondering if he had some kind of accident.”
Theena ushered Bill into a conference room. It was a moderate size, the walls adorned with motivational posters with sayings like “All answers began as problems.” The lighting was softer than the harsh neon of the hallways, and the air smelled faintly of tobacco. A large oval table was surrounded by a dozen chairs, only three of which were taken.
“This is Dr. Bill May, from CDER. I’m sure you all remember him from the other day. Bill, this is Dr. Mason O’Neil, our MD.”
Bill shook his hand. Mason was about ten years older than him, short and stout. He had furry gray sideburns that seemed to swallow his ears, an obvious attempt to make up for the lack of hair on his head.
“Next to him is our chemist, Dr. Julia Myrnowski.”
Julia was young, chubby, with short blonde hair. She smiled shyly at Bill and offered a moist, limp hand.
“And this is Dr. Robert Fletcher, our psychiatrist.”
“Call me Red.”
Bill couldn’t imagine why-the doctor’s hair was pure white. Red seemed to read Bill’s mind.
“Nothing to do with my hair. I was a bookworm when I was younger. Nickname stuck.”
“Nice to meet all of you.” Bill glanced at Theena, unsure if he was supposed to tell the day’s events. She pushed on without acknowledging him.
“I’d like everyone to state a brief overview of their work here, to give Bill an idea of how we’re running this project. Can you start, Mason?”
“Of course.” Mason had a school teacher voice, the friendly kind. “I’m basically Manny’s doctor. I oversee all of the testing. Tissue work ups, serum samples, vitals, lab tests, that sort of thing.”