Too much is never enough

Tanya leaned against the metal frame supporting the glass viewing window, her weight resting on her arms folded in front of her, her forehead pressed lightly against the cool glass. She had been observing the creatures for months now, measuring, monitoring, sampling, and to her great regret also dissecting and probing these creatures. Molecular analysis, DNA sequencing, structural genomic breakdown, she had tried everything, and still they weren’t giving away their secrets. She sighed, pushing herself up heavily, then walked to her stool and sat down. She closed her eyes and pressed the balls of her hands against her eyelids, leaving them there a while to feel their reassuring pressure and warmth.

Ten months. She had only been here ten months, yet she already felt as tired and drained as if she had been working ten years. She was not sleeping well, some nights she didn’t bother sleeping at all. Last night she had been too tired to make it back home and had simply laid her head down on her journal and fallen fast asleep. She had dreamt strange dreams too, of sand and warmth, and of a deep night sky ablaze with daggers of cold starlight. Coffee. That was what she needed. She grabbed her chip card from the bench and hung it around her neck, before leaving the lab and making her way down to the canteen.

She punched the buttons on the automat with the careless ease of long repetition and waited whilst the brown liquid trickled into the polystyrene beaker. She was fairly convinced it wasn’t coffee, and idly wondered whether to perform a molecular analysis. Of course, she wouldn’t – the company wouldn’t tolerate such frivolous use of its resources. She was surprised that she didn’t have to pay for the coffee. She took the cup and wandered over to one of the window seats, grimacing slightly as her hand started to heat up through the thin plastic.

The chair opposite scraped on the floor, and she looked up to see Paul smiling sympathetically down at her, his hair as usual sticking up wildly in various directions, his beard in desperate need of a trim. He casually took off his round glasses and wiped them on his lab coat, before setting them back onto his long nose and sitting down in front of her.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said. “I bet you slept here again, didn’t you?”

“I’m just not making the progress I should be,” she sighed.

“Try to slow down a bit, you’re just one woman working on a research project,” he rubbed the tip of his nose. “The company--”

“Damn the company!” she cried. “There’s more at stake than a simple research project!”

He raised is eyebrows, seemingly unabashed at her outburst, and continued. “The company has grown enormously over an incredibly short period of time. And it’s quite profitable too. Ten years ago it was nothing, now Johnson Pharmaceuticals is a major research company.”

“But at what cost?” she slumped back in her chair and took another sip of the imitation coffee.

“Cost?” he removed his glasses once more and mechanically cleaned them again. “I’m not sure what you mean. This company got its money from astute dealings on the stock market, crazy bets that paid big dividends. It’s a fascinating rags-to-riches story.”

He placed his glasses on his nose again and looked through them at her quizzically. “This company isn’t going to stand or fall on a single research project.”

 ***

Walking back to her lab, she chided herself for letting her guard down. She knew the cost, she studied it every day. Ten years ago these creatures were relatively thriving. They were native to harsh desert environments, a rare niche species, but in no danger of dying out. But that was before the discovery, before the strange potential of these reclusive creatures was first uncovered, and then mercilessly exploited. And by the very company she was working for now.

She watched them now, writhing and burrowing in the large sand pit which was supposed to simulate their natural environment, warming lamps overhead to reproduce the harsh desert sun. They were long and agile, beautifully lithe, twenty pairs of legs connected to a tough articulated body. They possessed a long arching tail with a sharp sting at the end, in appearance not dissimilar to a cross between a large armored centipede and a scorpion.

She wondered how many of these creatures still existed in the wild. At most probably only a few hundred. They had fifteen adults here in the lab. From autopsies it was clear that the females laid eggs, but that had never been observed in captivity.

Her thoughts drifted now to the strange accident by which the truly remarkable quality that these creatures possessed first came to light. It had previously been observed that they showed a high tolerance to a range of poisons and venoms, especially scorpion stings. A research scientist had been investigating this property, and was trying to develop an antidote to a particularly potent scorpion venom using fluid extracted from one of the creatures when he found himself on the receiving end of a sting from one such scorpion, the result of a stupid and potentially fatal oversight on his part. With minutes to live and nothing to lose, he injected himself with his own experimental serum. The serum worked, much to his astonishment, but the side effects which he later described he put down to a combination of stress and a possible hallucinogenic compound contained in the serum.

He reported a feeling of disorientation, of a displacement in time such that he saw his work colleague enter the room to enquire where his hat was, whilst he simultaneously saw his colleague pick up his hat from under his chair, and also leave the building without his headwear. He had the strangest feeling that he could choose one of these alternate versions of the events, and so with a strong desire to see his colleague, he chose the version where his colleague entered the room. The disorientation quickly wore off, but sure enough, his colleague did enter the room to enquire about his hat, and was astonished that his friend was able to direct him without hesitation to his favorite headpiece, despite being seemingly in a state of some distress.

The research scientist published his findings in a little-known journal, which was largely forgotten. He reported the strange episode as a footnote, and so it would have remained, had not a certain Samuel Johnson stumbled across it whilst searching for potential new medical treatments.

He was certain from the start that he was onto something. He began to experiment on the creatures – he hired locals to trap and collect specimens for him, not an easy task in itself – and was slowly able to at first reproduce, and ultimately control those strange effects.

He started small at first, not even sure whether his idea would work. A modest bet on a twenty-to-one outsider, having first dipped into the possible outcomes of the future events and guided his preferred version over the finishing line. It worked, and, bolstered by this small success, he gradually increased the scope of his experiments, refining and perfecting the drug. It was not easy judging the correct quantities and concentrations required, and he was hampered by the fact that not all the creatures seemed to possess the key ingredient, whatever that was. Looking more than a few minutes into the future required high concentrations which had to be extracted from several creatures. But he persevered and gradually mastered the process, learning how to navigate the ever increasing paths and possibilities generated as he pushed further into the future.

But it paid off. He was careful not to call attention to his activities, his success could be put down to business acumen and simple good luck, a carefully weighed choice of when to buy and sell stock, which sporting outsider to back. And later, turning to choose the profitable paths for his company, the paths which led to his success and fortune.

But now he had a problem. The species was rare, and it was increasingly difficult to get new specimens. He directed his efforts to finding a way to synthesize the compound, or at the very least, to find a way to make these monsters breed in captivity, but he met with little success. Even using the compound to navigate a path to success in this venture was met with failure. Looking into the future in relation to these creatures seemed to meet with some unknown resistance, the myriad possibilities simply collapsing before he was able to choose a path.

So far he had not told anybody his secret, but now he saw that he needed help if this venture was to carry on. He enlisted the aid of a talented researcher and biologist, an expert specializing on creatures which survive in hostile environments. If anyone could help him understand these creatures, then she could…

She shook herself out of her reverie. She had heard of the creatures previously, of course, but until then she had had no time to study the creatures in detail. They were rare, and their population was declining, which was obviously worrying, so the chance to work with these creatures, to find out more about their behaviour and lifestyle, to observe them at close hand, albeit in a laboratory and not in the wild, was a very tempting possibility. If she could discover the reason for their decline, find a way of reversing this – that would be a worthwhile project. She laughed bitterly. Now she knew the reason for their decline, of course.

At first she had not known, and she had thrown herself into the research, learning everything she could from the specimens she had to work with in the lab. When he had confided in her the true reason for her research, of course after she had signed countless secrecy documents and non-disclosure agreements, she simply couldn’t believe what he was telling her. It was impossible, preposterous! She had reviewed all his reports and experiments, watched countless hours of videos of his sometimes unintelligible ramblings, until she was finally convinced that he really believed what he was saying. But now she was placed in a dilemma. Should she expose this man and what he was doing? She was appalled that this unique species was being threatened in this way, but she had of course signed those agreements, so legally she was in a difficult situation. And if she did expose him, who would believe her? The story was simply too fantastic. And that was the other side of the dilemma of course – if it was true, then scientifically this was incredible and would be fascinating to work on – a once in a lifetime opportunity. She was appalled that through his actions the creatures were being pushed to the brink of extinction, but if she could understand the process, synthesize the components to produce the same effects artificially, without having to terminate the subjects – then she would be able to preserve this species, and be part of an incredible scientific discovery.

But she had worked endlessly these long months to the point of exhaustion, and she was no closer to discovering the key. She hadn’t even been able to explain why the creatures were not able to reproduce in the lab. She went over to the containment area and watched the creatures again. They were beautiful, sublime even. She wished that she could observe them in their true environment, live and observe them as they truly lived. She was overcome by a wave of sadness – she would not be able to do it, could not save these creatures from this powerful madman.

Her mobile phone buzzed, and looking at the display, she saw it was an internal call from Mr. Johnsons secretary. This was unusual – she hardly ever got calls, and they never boded well. A feeling of deep unease crept over her as she answered the call.

“Mr. Johnson wishes to speak to you in his office,” shrilled the call, “as soon as convenient.”

Now this was bad news, she could feel it. Johnson never brought her into his office. When she gave progress reports (or lack of progress reports, as she thought of them), she would always meet him in one of the conference rooms. With a feeling of foreboding, she cut off the call, and made her way through the corridors to Johnson’s office.

Johnson was sitting behind his desk, and stood up as she entered.

“Tanya,” he said – was he trying to put on a sympathetic face? – “you’ve been working on this project for a long time now, and to be honest, the results haven’t been spectacular.”

She couldn’t deny this, so she remained silent. After a pause, he carried on speaking. “I’ve decided to terminate the project. But I’ll need one final large dose of serum, so please prepare the remaining specimens – you know the procedure.”

She stared at him aghast: “But you can’t, those specimens are all we have. I can’t lose them--”

“They are not yours to lose,” he replied coldly. “Please see start the procedure at once, I cannot afford any more time.”

In a daze she stumbled back to her lab. What should she do? She couldn’t possibly go through with this – after all the time she had spent studying the creatures – she couldn’t, she wouldn’t!

She looked desperately around the lab, looking for a way out of the situation, but she came up blank. She was about to scream in despair when she was overcome with a feeling of disorientation so powerful she had to clutch the bench to stop herself from falling over. In her mind’s eye she saw a security guard marching down the corridor towards her lab, enter the room and escort her away. But at the same time she saw an alternative narrative – herself locking the door with the keycode, then smashing the electronic mechanism with the nearby fire extinguisher. What the hell? Which version to choose? Could she choose? She willed herself into the second narrative. Leaping up from the chair, she locked the door in the nick of time and smashed the controls.

Now it really seemed she wasn’t in control of her thoughts. Numerous multiple possibilities opened up in front of her. Some she could see led to dead ends, but the others… swimming through a myriad of futures, she clutched at the one path to escape. Grabbing a large hold-all, she smashed the glass of the enclosure to free the creatures, who now swarmed out of the enclosure and into the hold-all she slung over her shoulder. A ventilation grid in the wall, and a screwdriver from a toolkit – she was now gliding down the paths, almost automatically choosing the possibility which would ultimately lead to… she saw it now, and she launched herself body and soul into the actions that would make this future a reality. She squeezed through the narrow opening, then snaked herself along the ventilation shafts, left, right, straight ahead, till she came to an opening up ahead, which led to the outside world.

Squeezing out, pulling the writhing hold-all behind her, she ran to the pick-up which she knew would be standing empty around the corner, the keys under the seat. She started the engine and drove out of the compound onto the highway. She knew where she was heading because she had already seen herself arrive.

***

She drove for hours, deep into the night, stopping only once to fill up with gas. She finally reached her destination when the sun was rising slowly over the horizon. She stopped the car and got out. Slinging the hold-all over her shoulder, she walked out into the cool desert morning. She stopped when she knew it was right. She set down the hold-all on the ground and opened it up, then sat cross-legged on the sand and waited.

The creatures left the hold-all one by one, and with them the strange disorientation slowly left her. In its place came a feeling of peace and contentment. She watched as they made their way over the sand and burrowed into the dunes, where she knew their brothers and sisters would be waiting for them.

But one of the creatures stayed with her, and she knew why. She had a score to settle. The possibilities were endless, and she would not fail.