NaNoWriMo Unfinished Novel

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

         Lucas woke up in a pure white cell.The acrid scent of chemicals permeated the room. He sat up frantically and looked around him. He was laying in a snow-white bed. Beside the bed sat a gently humming machine with wires and tubes coming out from it. Wincing in pain, Lucas looked down and noticed a tube connected to his arm. In addition to the tube, he noticed a plastic cuff around his left hand. Along the side it read,"SUBJECT-1A-LUCAS." "What is this place?" he wondered. Try as he might, he couldn't recall anything prior to waking up. Reaching to pull the tube out of his arm, a message appeared on the machine's screen."Sequence Incomplete, Injecting Sedative" it read. As his sight blurred and a wave of drowsiness swept over him, Lucas muttered,"Note to self, don't touch any tubes.

* * *

         Through the haze of semi-conciousness, Lucas heard voices. "The sequence was successful, we can start building the pre-release now," he heard from a distinctly male voice. "What about the subject?" replied a similar, although higher-pitched, voice. "He should be waking up any second now, as soon as the stimulant hits his bloodstream." As soon as he had heard those words, Lucas felt a rapid burning sensation that resembled someone injecting liquid fire into his veins. His eyes immediately shot open.
He soon realized that he had been moved during his brief spell of unconciousness. This time, he was in a huge off-white hall, laying on a small hospital bunk. Around him, in rows, were hundreds of other beds, all occupied. Finally noticing the three people at the foot of his bunk, he looked up.
         "Mr. Lucas, its good to see you've awoken!" exclaimed one of the men. He was tall, with blonde hair and wore a grey suit. He smiled brightly, but his icy blue eyes remained cold and calculating. On either side of him stood two scientists in lab coats. One was checking off something on a blue tablet she was carrying. The other stood silently, watch Lucas with interest. "I'm Dr. DeScheele and these are my two associates," continued the man in the grey suit."James, Miranda, you can leave us now." The two scientists turned and exited the hall through a small door to the right, leaving Lucas and Dr. DeScheele alone. "What is this place?" Lucas timidly inquired (something about Dr. DeScheele was slightly intimidating). "And when can I leave," he added. "Let's get you off these machines," Dr. DeScheele said brightly, not acknowledging Lucas's questions. He moved over to a machine, identical to the ones in the white cell, and pressed his hand onto a small pad. The lights turned blue and the humming ceased. "They're programmed to detect only my hand-print," explained Dr. DeScheele rather smugly. "It prevents just anyone from coming and shutting them off." Lucas got the vague feeling that the doctor was referring to the sedation incident in the white room. A glance at Dr. DeScheele's cold, shrewd eyes confirmed his suspicion. Even as a young child (although he can't remember it), Lucas had always been able to tell the true intentions of others by a swift look into their eyes, and his insticts were telling him to have as little to do with DeScheele as possible."Now, about your question. You are in a genetic recollection facility near the eastern quadrant of Mid-City." The words struck a familiar chord in Lucas's mind, but he couldn' t exactly them. "Why am I here...Wh-Who am I?" Lucas stammered. "I'm afraid I am not at liberty to say why or to what end you are here", responded the doctor. "As for who you are, you are who you want to be." Chills crept down Lucas's spine. The whole evil scientist act was giving him bad vibes."You are, of course, free to go if you so desire. But before you leave, we have a little preposition to make." Dr. DeScheele lifted a chrome briefcase off the floor and onto the hospital bunk. He pressed his hand against a pad on the front similar to those on the machines and slowly opened the lid.
         Peering into the briefcase, Lucas immediately felt an anticlimatic sense of disappointment. Where he had expected something spectacular like a massive pile of currency or a sophisticated weapon there sat a small vial and a sleek black data drive. Dr. DeScheele picked up the vial and handed it to Lucas. "Do you know what this is?" he demanded, suddenly losing his cheery facade. "Uh..I don't even know who-"This is my life's ambition, my life's work," the doctor interjected. DeScheele tossed Lucas the vial. Lucas reached up and deftly caught the vial. Holding it to the light, he inspected it's contents. It contained a cloudy red liquid. "Inside that vial is a virus that changes specific parts of the genetic code of those infected with it." Although Lucas had no idea what the doctor was talking about, he hastily set the vial down on the bedspread. "Don't worry," DeScheele reassured him, "It is still requires a few main components to make it viable." Lucas was unconvinced. "Why would anyone need a gene corrupting virus?" he asked, not really wanting an answer. He had already decided that this Dr. DeScheele was a wackojob. "That's beside the point," DeScheele retorted. "The point is, this prototype needs to be delivered to our collegues in Upper City." Lucas, tired of the terminology that went completely over his head said, "Look, I just learned my own name. I have no idea what you're talking about. So thanks, but no thanks." "DeScheele's face was impassive, completely deviod of emotion. His brief moment of passion completely gone. "Do you want to know who you are, how you got here?" he asked quitely. "I thought you said-" "Look," said DeScheele, cutting him off once again, "you chose to help us. You made a decision. Even if you can't remember it, you still must honor your promise." Lucas, baffled by the doctor's change in tactics, finally relented. "Fine, what do I have to do?" At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to get away from DeScheele and his bipolarity. "A beatific smile graced DeScheele's visage, sending cold chills down Lucas's back again. "This guy is seriously starting to creep me out," Lucas thought. "Well, how about I start from the beginning," the doctor replied, an evil glint in shimmering in his eyes.
                   "Two decades ago, a team of our scientist's first developed the virus. With it, we could have cured cancer and prevented genetic diseases. However, we have many powerful adversaries who, in their weakness, feared the release of the virus. They plotted against us, seeking to stop our inevitable progression. Shortly before the virus was released, our lab was breached and the  prototype stolen. 20 years of combined effort, destroyed in less than an hour. Rebuilding the virus would have been simple had the research data not been wiped during the break in. Eventually, we were able to reconstruct most of what was destroyed; the intruders failed to exterminate all the team who built the virus. However, two of our best genetic engineers, who were both at the lab doing some final tests that night, were killed. In cold blood. Without them, we could re-engineer the virus, but we couldn't program what we want it to do. Now, after 20 years of bitter resentment, we are almost ready to release it. And you are going to help us."