In each, a small sample of the bacterium had been injected into a common microbiological nutrient broth. And just as it had done previously aboard the Pathfinder’s sister ship Bowditch, the bacteria began to replicate. Rapidly.
She reached down and pressed a button on her keyboard, causing the powerful electronic microscope to zoom out slightly. The culture she had been watching was already growing too large to fit within the dish. Splitting, and then in just thirty minutes, splitting again.
By tomorrow, the new cells would take over the broth and consume the entirety of the medium, exhausting its food supply.
As Neely continued staring down at the metal table, the same nagging question surfaced again: What was the catch?
Every breakthrough came with a cost. Nothing was free in this world, especially in the field of science. Each discovery, no matter how small or how profound, came with its own set of limitations. Its own set of complications, and more specifically, its own rules.
Her overarching question was simple. What was the bad news?
She folded her arms and frowned. Pushing the thought away, she then glanced up through the front glass door of the short laboratory refrigerator where several stacks of test tubes were held firmly in place inside. There, more of the bacteria were divided into small sample groups and held at near-freezing temperatures.
They had nearly lost it all — if not for the last remaining trace of extracted DNA, retrieved by a single man in one of the greatest acts of courage she had ever seen.
3
The man’s name was John Clay.
Considered attractive by most measures, and above average in height and build, Clay sat quietly on the edge of the large seawater tank in Puerto Rico. He wore a slight frown on his face, his eyes closed. Above him, the sky was filled with muted gray clouds.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded and opened his eyes, peering into the face of Alison Shaw, who sat near him. Both had their legs dangling into the cool water of the research center’s giant tank.
“Can I help?”
“I’m okay,” he responded quietly. With some effort, he pushed himself up straighter and grimaced at the pain. His body was badly battered, deep purple bruises covering much of his chest and arms. The exposed areas of his legs didn’t look much better.
Alison touched his arm gently. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I don’t know that I’m sure of anything at the moment.”
She smiled. “You can be sure about me.”
Through the lacerations on his face, his lips parted to reveal a warm smile. His tanned jawline remained lean and strong. “That, I know.”
His eyes stared back at her with deep affection before finally returning to the water. Several feet away, two dolphins waited, their heads bobbing out of the water excitedly.
It had been almost a month since Clay had found himself literally moments away from death. Saved only by his wits and a monumental stroke of luck.
He had only recently been released from the hospital in Honolulu and traveled back to Alison’s research center in Puerto Rico.
It was her idea.
Alison shared with him what had happened with a young girl named Sofia, who was suffering from leukemia. It might have been easy to dismiss the event if it had not also happened with Juan’s younger sister. And if Clay and Alison hadn’t known what was really behind the miracles. Which was their discovery near Trinidad.
Now Clay sat on the concrete edge of the tank with Dirk and Sally waiting.
You come now.
The translation emanated from a computerized vest worn by Alison.
Clay grinned and replied, “Easy, Dirk. I’m feeling rather old at the moment.”
Dirk opened his mouth and wiggled his head, and the vest responded with a sound Alison knew to be laughter.
Sitting beside him, her eyes narrowed momentarily as she wondered if Dirk had just gotten John’s joke.
She let the thought go when Clay groaned and moved himself forward. He felt silly with the floatation belt wrapped around him but the less he had to move to keep afloat, the better. And under the circumstances, Clay decided pride was the least of his worries.
With gritted teeth, he eased himself into the water and immediately bobbed back up to shoulder level. His arms gently waved back and forth, providing just enough motion to keep his body upright.
Alison slipped in behind him and floated close by. Her eyes filled with empathy. Clay was not one to complain. Not surprising giving his previous life in the Navy, but it pained her heart to see him in so much agony — a suffering she could do so little about. Except for getting him here and into this water, along with whatever miraculous properties it contained.
It did help. Just the sensation of being back in the water helped Clay relax, allowing his face to soften as he floated effortlessly on his back.
Dirk’s head abruptly rose from the water beside him. After staring at John, he spoke, and Alison rushed to get her earbuds in for the translation.
She chuckled. “He’s worried about you. When humans don’t move in the water, it’s not a good sign.”
Clay laughed. “Tell him, this time I’m not trapped underwater inside a ship.”
Alison slipped her facemask over the top of her head and spoke back to Dirk through the mask’s microphone. She then shook her head. “IMIS can’t translate trapped.”
“That’s all right.” Clay rose back up to a vertical position. “It just feels good to be back in the water again.”
“As opposed to a hospital bed?”
“Exactly.”
Alison reached out to pet the top of Sally’s head. “How are you, Sally?”
Me good. How you Alison?
“Better.”
We miss.
Alison cocked her head. Sally hadn’t used that phrase before. It was a new translation. “I missed you too.”
You home now. We talk.
“Yes, we can talk more.”
Learn.
Alison glanced at Clay, who was listening to her muffled voice. “What would you like to learn, Sally?”
We learn people. After a pause, Sally finished the sentence. You learn us.
“We’d like that.”
Clay turned to Dirk who was still staring curiously at him. With a wince, he raised a hand and patted Dirk’s leathery gray head. “I’m fine, Dirk. I promise.”
Sally was still attentively watching Alison, seeming to smile. There was something in Sally’s face, in her mouth, that Alison was able to recognize. She wasn’t sure what it was — perhaps a slight change in the curvature of Sally’s mouth, or maybe just a feeling, but she could tell. Sally was smiling at her.
How you…
There was a pause in the translation — a sign that Lee Kenwood had explained as a conflict. A moment where the IMIS system was unsure of the right word given the context. When it made its decision, the word finally sounded through her earbuds.
… love?
Alison was taken aback by the question. How do we love? She couldn’t help but glance over at Clay, floating quietly. Did she love Clay? Yes, she did.
She had just spent a month with him at the hospital. And he amazed her now even more than before. His injuries were extensive, but he barely complained. Instead, he was driven more by a feeling of gratefulness than anything else. Nor would he tell her everything that happened to him in China. He refused to burden her with it. With the visual images of what he must have endured. What he did reveal to her, however, was that at a certain point he was convinced that he wouldn’t be coming back. And what he said then brought Alison to tears. In his darkest moments, it was thinking of her that got him through it.