Waking The Zed Read online

  And even though Pamela was already two years into her pathology PH.D., she had no problem performing manual labor. Raised on a working farm in Iowa, she had become used to hard work at an early age. It usually invigorated and revived her. Seeing a field full of healthy growing produce that she had helped plow and plant satisfied her as much as the addition of her name to a paper published in a prestigious journal.

  Pam Stone was no squeamish ninny.

  These days Pamela mostly immersed herself in school and science, but sometimes she only felt truly alive when she had some hard physical task to perform. In fact, Pamela had considered taking a low paying summer job on a therapeutic ranch instead of this internship just because she thought she would enjoy it more. She had no problems working with the dead, but only if her work might actually help the living. She had certainly hesitated before taking this internship, but in the end she had let her shrunken bank account and her advisor’s advice prevail. An internship with the notable Dr. Klein would be a star on her resume later. Ridiculously generous paychecks would allow her to keep her nice apartment and stave off more debt.

  She found the fifteen gallon tank in the cooler. It had been clearly marked as Serum A in Dr. Klein’s usual meticulous way. Of course, the label told her nothing about what the tank contained.

  Filled, Pam estimated that the tank weighed almost a hundred and fifty pounds. Still, she did not experience summers on a working farm without learning how to use tools to move heavy objects. With the right tools and techniques a sturdy young woman could perform most jobs as well as a much stronger guy. She rolled the heavy tank with practiced ease onto the platform of a hand truck. Then she wheeled it back to the laboratory. She had no idea why Dr. Klein wanted to experiment with a new blood replacement solution, but supposed the doctor simply wanted to find a better way to preserve the frozen remains.

  After she returned to the preservation room, Pam assisted the doctor as she replaced the permanent serum feed with a temporary hose from the tank. They started with Mr. Barnes. When Dr. Klein was satisfied with the temporary feed she instructed Pam to do the same for Mrs. Bell.

  The old solution slowly dripped from an outlet into drains on the steel tiled floor. As the new liquid replaced the old liquid the tanks grew slightly darker. They also seemed to pick up a faint pinkish glow from the lights. Under the bright laboratory lights the capsules almost started to look as if they had bodies encased in some sort of jewels. Pam entertained the cynical thought that the image would make a good selling point for one of Future Faith’s brochures.

  Pam watched carefully as Dr. Klein carefully monitored the procedure. Pam supposed this was merely some routine experiment, but she did note that the doctor’s eyes almost looked shiny from excitement. It’s good that she, at least, is enthusiastic about her job. Pam noticed that the older woman’s bright eyed expression seemed to shave years off of her face. She looked more like the press photos Pam found on the Internet when she had first researched Future Faith Cryonics.

  For once, Dr. Klein almost looked cheerful and youthful. Pam knew that Dr. Klein had been regarded as a beautiful woman a couple of decades ago when she’d first risen to prominence in her field. Now, I guess she’s still what my folks would call a handsome woman. But when she’s happy I can still see her beauty. I guess her disposition accounts for the fact that she never married. Even as Pam entertained that thought she dismissed it as unfair.

  Without looking up from her work, the doctor said, “I need you to set the timer to slowly raise the temperature to seventy-two degrees over the course of three hours. Just set it to automatically spread the temperature adjustments equally over time.”

  “Dr. Klein, you don’t mean to unfreeze them, do you?”

  “I do,” the doctor said flatly. She did not even bother to look up and meet Pam’s eyes.

  “I thought you had a contract to keep these people frozen and preserved until they could be revived? If you raise the solution to room temperature, they’ll surely degrade quickly.” By degrade, Pam meant rot. In her opinion, returning a body to the elements should be something that was done under ground and out of sight. She frowned, wondering again just how badly she really needed this job. “You can’t just experiment on them like this. Do you have some way to preserve them without freezing?”

  “Ms. Stone, I have a contract to preserve them until they can be revived,” Dr. Klein said, smiling placidly. She spoke softly and slowly as if she was explaining multiplication to a dull child. Her tone almost sounded musical to Pam though it was certainly intended to be biting. “If they are revived, their own body mechanisms will keep them from degrading just as yours do. You don’t have to walk around in a freezer suit, right?”

  “Of course I don’t.” Pam answered as if Dr. Klein had really required an answer.

  The doctor put her hands on her hips and looked directly at Pam. “Future Faith also has a mission to work on reviving them. That is also part of the contract. Otherwise this would just be a very expensive cemetery. Is that what you think this is, Ms. Stone?”

  “You actually believe you can revive these people right now?” Pamela asked, plainly aghast. She knew the futility of arguing her point with this stubborn woman, but she could not stop the words from escaping her mouth. “Do you actually think you can wake them up? They were declared dead several months ago.”

  “Listen, while I have been paying you fifty dollars an hour to make jokes and perform tasks that any bright eighth grader could be trained to do, I have been working on real science. You must be familiar with my reputation. Why else would you have coveted this internship so much?” She cocked her head, waiting for an answer. Pam had no argument. They both knew she had pursued the internship as a bright mark on her resume as well as a generous paycheck.

  Then the doctor gestured with her hands as if she were holding an expanding globe. “My serum can regenerate the damage and actually grow new life. I will certainly let you review my papers later, but right now it has to be a closely guarded secret. I’m sure you can understand that.”

  “Why does it have to be a secret?” Pam asked. “Wouldn’t the scientific community want to hear about something like this?” Is it because you know it’s either a charade or nuts?

  “Don’t take offense, Ms. Stone, but you obviously took this position because you needed the money. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Many students find themselves in your position. But as you might guess, this formula could be priceless.”

  Pam sighed. This woman actually believes she can wake up dead people. She’s so paranoid she thinks I’m here to steal her secrets. The only buyers might be science fiction or horror fiction publishers. Pamela had assumed the Dr. Klein had just become a cynical charlatan in her old age, but now she wondered if the woman was actually deluded. She looked at her employer in alarm and asked, “Have you even actually tested this on animals?”

  “Of course,” Ada said with a dismissive wave. “I sacrificed a hundred mice before I began to see any results. First I woke up a dozen of the little fellows before I moved on to dogs. Then I finally revived primates. The animal labs are in another part of this building, and are manned by an entirely different crew. Perhaps you, with your rustic background, would have been more comfortable working there. Didn’t you mention that you had grown up on a farm?”

  “The animals died, you froze them, and then you woke them up?” Pam asked again. She tried to picture the experiments in her mind. Did the mice have little individual capsules or did she just throw them in a freezer?

  Dr. Klein’s explanations just continued to make Pam feel more stubborn. She refused to be baited by Dr. Klein suggestion that she was somehow primitive because she had grown up on a farm. She was a successful pathology doctoral candidate, and if she decided to work with animals, it would be for some sane reason.

  “Your summary is simplistic, but essentially accurate,” Dr. Klein said again. “You know that the current regulations prevent us from harvesting our human
clients until they have actually been declared dead. In my opinion those regulations are unfair and restrictive. They hamper my work and increase the risk. But I had to operate under the same constraints when I tested my serum on animals.”

  “You killed the healthy lab animals in order to attempt to revive them?”

  The doctor shrugged carelessly. “I consider the sacrifice of laboratory animals regrettable but absolutely necessary. You’re no vegetarian, Ms. Stone. You don’t mind sacrificing animals for your burgers or soup. But you have options. I actually am a vegetarian now, but in this case I had no alternative.”

  Dr. Klein sighed as she thought her assistant was becoming tedious. At first, the young woman’s round eyed expression of disbelief had been humorous. It turned Pam’s interesting face into an almost comic caricature. But now, on the brink of a life-changing scientific breath through, Pam was quickly growing tiresome. “Ms. Stone, I tolerate your questions because you are, after all, a student. I even credit you with possessing a better than average intelligence and scholarly reputation for so young of a student. That’s why I gave you this opportunity. But we are still worlds apart. I really just require your ability to follow my instructions. May we proceed? “

  Pam stopped herself from mumbling an automatic apology. She was not quite ready to be silenced but she knew that she and the doctor were not standing here today as equals. She bit back an immediate reply with an effort.

  Still, if the day came when science had ever advanced sufficiently to revive the long dead, which Pam doubted would ever happen she expected the deeds to be performed in hospitals and attended by a large team of doctors and scientists. There might even be mobs or reporters waiting outside. The science and ethics would certainly be discussed in the news. Political and religious leaders would probably hold heated debates. She certainly did not expect a historical event like this to first happen in a quiet room, located in a private lab, attended by one scientist, perhaps a mad scientist, and one reluctant laboratory assistant.

  Pam unconsciously bit her lip as she watched the serum from the small tank replace the existing fluids in the bodies of Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Bell. So far nothing had changed except for a slight tinting of the liquid in the capsules where the dead floated. Except for the awful waste of the lab animals, maybe nothing has really changed that much. Then Pamela glanced at Dr. Klein and saw that other woman was watching her, her mouth set in an impatient line.

  Pamela shrugged. She did not want to raise the temperature. She did not have to be a scientist to know that warm dead things rot unless they are preserved in some way that is incompatible with life. But these people were, after all, actually dead. They had committed their mortal remains to Future Faith, and it was not like the company broke any laws by experimenting on the dead when they had full permission to do so. This would be especially true if these poor souls had even signed up for the experiments when they were still alive and mentally healthy. Apparently Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Bell had died accidentally, and not after some illness that might have damaged their mental facilities. Pam did not suppose she could do any real harm by following Dr. Klein’s orders. She certainly could not make dead people any sicker. They’re dead. It’s not like I’m killing them or something.

  Pam’s frown deepened as she slowly turned back to the control panel and carefully selected the temperature control application on the touch screen mounted on the wall beside her. As she set the final temperature and time duration for Mr. Barnes, a red warning flashed on the screen. Pamela had to manually override the control in order to set the number at any point above a hard freeze. Finally, the device beeped in recognition of its new settings. Pamela sighed and repeated the process for Mrs. Bell. She waited for the confirmation and then turned back to her boss and said, “It’s done.” Then Pam felt like she needed to add, “I did what you told me to do.”

  “Fine,” Dr. Klein said. “I just need you to monitor the readings for these two subjects for the next few hours. If you see anything abnormal, be sure and notify me. In the meantime keep detailed notes. Of course, the automatic safety systems should keep me informed over my handheld device, but I still believe in using a human eye and mind as a backup. That’s your job, Ms. Stone. You are employed to simply back up my computer systems. I don’t require anything else from you.”

  “Right,” Pam said, still unwilling to be baited. She had just determined she would do her best to get through this day, and then maybe go home and figure out if she could find some other way to pay her bills. It would be such a relief to show up for work anywhere without this witch around.

  The thought of all of those poor laboratory animals being sacrificed for Dr. Klein’s mad ambitions did not sit well with Pam. In a way Dr. Klein had a point though. Pam was no vegan, and she had even spent time hunting and butchering animals back on the family farm. On more than one occasion, it had also been Pam’s unpleasant duty to put down a sick or injured beast. She also believed in the occasional justification to experiment with animals for the greater good of humanity, but she would never condone it without an excellent reason. She certainly did not like to see any animals suffer. Pam avoided certain brands of cosmetics because the companies testing practices had been exposed as cruel to animals.

  Pam consoled herself. After she earned her doctorate, Pam assumed that she should have plenty of six figure job offers. Other pathology doctoral candidates she had known seemed to be able to pick and choose from a varied selection of opportunities. Her mounting student loans would be burdensome, but not totally unmanageable. As soon as she finished her degree, she could move into some type of productive work and put Future Faith far behind her.

  She figured the rest of the work day would be unpleasant, but a ten hour shift here would equal another five hundred dollars deposited into her shrunken bank account. That would be enough to purchase most of her text books or pay for another class next semester. Her check for the month should be close to ten thousand dollars, and that would pay most of her modest living expenses for the next few months. If she could have stuck it out for another month, she would have had two semesters paid for. In another few years I won’t have to pick my job based solely on the salary, but right now I can’t afford to ignore reality. Losing this job would be regretful from a financial standpoint.

  Her mind still calculated how she could find a temporary job to make up the difference. It will certainly be too late to find a solid internship, but checking out groceries or waiting tables seem like attractive options at this point. They really liked me at the therapy ranch and maybe they can find a spot for me to ride out the summer.

  Then Pam decided that she would probably cooperate until she had her month’s pay safely deposited in her bank account, and then she would simply resign to find more hopeful and productive work with the living. It might be awkward explaining to potential future employers why she would rather they did not call Dr. Klein for a reference, but maybe she would just risk leaving this internship off of her resume altogether. Taking this job had been a mistake but Pam believed she could recover.

  As Pam considered her future, an uneventful hour passed. She watched the monitors and made infrequent notes on her handheld tablet as she thought about possibilities. Dr. Klein had watched her work for a few minutes, and then departed without a word. The gleaming, silent room still felt creepy and chilly. Pamela pulled a second lab coat out of the small closet to provide her with a thermal layer. She wished Dr. Klein would allow her to play some music or even browse the current news on her phone, but that was strictly against policy. The doctor wanted no distractions on the job. For some reason, Dr. Klein thought it would be important to listen to sounds in the room too. Pam had no idea what she was supposed to hear. The machines worked almost silently and the dead had nothing to say.

  Just after the end of the first hour, Dr. Klein returned. She handed Pam a steaming mug of coffee and asked her if she would like her to fetch a sweater. “I might be able to find something that would fit you.”
Of course, her look suggested that anything that draped her own slim figure would fit much too snugly for Pam’s sturdier frame. In the midst of all of this, Dr. Klein is still incurably vain.

  Pam shook her head, “I’m alright.” She managed a thin smile. “I grew up on a farm in Iowa, you know. A little cold wakes me up. I do appreciate the coffee though.” She took a small appreciative sip. One thing she liked about her job was that Dr. Klein invested in good coffee and an expensive coffee maker. “This is great brew, Dr. Klein. I think it could wake the dead by itself if we could just get them to drink it.”

  Dr. Klein smiled, though her expression did not seem to reach all the way to her eyes. Pamela suppressed a sigh as she realized the worst thing about this job was not the silent stiffs in their individual freezers, but the cold and creepy personality of her boss. Even the gesture of bringing Pam coffee seemed condescending, like Dr. Klein took a moment to pantomime what actions she believed thoughtful people would perform. But like her occasional smiles, the sentiment never seemed to come from deep down.

  Pam suppressed a chill even as she tried to understand what her instincts were telling her about this woman. She reminded herself that Dr. Klein’s earlier work with the virus blocking proteins had certainly saved millions of lives. That should earn her a break, right? A great woman like that did not have to be likable to be appreciated. But it was still hard for the young woman to balance that sterling reputation with what she knew of the cold and condescending person who signed her paychecks. Pam wondered if the doctor had always been this way. Maybe when she had been a young and beautiful scientist on the verge of fame she had also been pleasant.

  Then the young engineer, Enrico, entered the room. In the past, Enrico Sanchez’s dark eyes and carefully trimmed mustache had always reminded Pam of some handsome and tragic silent movie actor she had read about on the Internet after attending a campus festival that featured old films.