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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Career · #1511152
This is my first sci-fi short story. Enjoy and please rate and review.
         Larry and Ross were dedicated to the field of science, and they had been since their first years with the easy experiments in elementary school.  It wasn’t just a job, or an occupation, or even a passion.  It was life.  It was the field that they had met the loves of their lives, besides science, in.  They had always dreamed of making it to the professionals’ level.  It was like the sports leagues that had formed.  The NFL, NBA, MLB, and all those groupings.  The only difference was that it was much more accepting.  Their love for the field was uncontrollable. 
         Though science was their general focus, they had recently joined the tested ones who looked at cancer and how it affected humans around the world.  Not only what the disease did, but the challenge every scientist in this area faced: finding a cure.  Their research has led them to begin experimentation with various chemicals.
         They knew what the risks were, but didn’t think they were anything to fret over.  Neither of them knew what was about to happen.  Nor did they realize it could be their unexpected ending.  Their experience could change the way we look at laboratory work forever.

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         “Dad, good bye!” Larry embraced his cherished daughter as she left for the school for final examinations and he went to the local laboratory for a day of chemical testing in the name of a cure for one of the worst diseases in history: cancer.  She was just like her mother, mainly for two traits: beauty and a love for science, also a trait of her father’s.
         “Good bye, honey!” His wife handed him a sack lunch for the long day he had ahead.  He kissed her cheek lightly and left for his car in the driveway.  He truly did have a long day awaiting him.  Today was the arrival of the new chemicals for testing in hopes that they could cause some drastic change to the disease that affected so many.  He entered the car and got a farewell from his loving family.  He smiled and waved back.
         As he drove, he received a phone call from his partner, Ross.
         “Today’s the day when the new chemicals arrive, right?”
         “Didn’t you get the e-mail last night?”
         “No, maybe I need to check more often.”
         “Well, anyway, today’s the day though.  See you at work Ross.”
         Such a simple task!  Checking his e-mail was like an addiction for Larry.  He also always had things in there from his many online groups, including a high school and college friends group and a scientist’s group.  He checked it more often than Ross because he had a reason.

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         When he arrived at work, he was greeted warmly by his secretary.  She was a short woman, but a hard, loyal worker nonetheless.  He took the message that he had gotten from the head of the group looking for the cure.  It was the standard wish-well message that all scientists received before doing a major project like this.  It reminded Larry that the task he was about to perform, without a question, was the most important he and his partner had ever done.  He went into the room next to the entry hallway.  On the wall sat a row of hooks on which hung five white lab coats.  He grabbed one and put it on like he always had before.  He felt nervous.  He was putting millions of people’s hopes in his hands.  It was a love; he’d always had and always would have.  As so, it was a burden that made him feel sick to his stomach.
         “Good morning Mr. Embers.” His secretary greeted his partner in the lobby.  Ross entered and put on his lab coat.
         “You nervous?”
         “More than you know.” Larry knew Ross was just making small talk to ease the tensions before this act.
         They were ready for the experiments, even if they didn’t feel like it.  The chemicals were unpacked carefully, seeing as how they were strong chemicals.  It would take a dangerous chemical to counter a dangerous disease.  They prepared their work station; straightening beakers and making sure eye-droppers were functional.  The special tool for measuring pH acidity had been malfunctioning last week when they were testing the previous batch of chemicals for the last time.  Their secretary had filed the request for a new one and it had arrived with the chemicals.  They would have much desired it a different time when they weren’t already loaded with tiring and slow work.  Testing chemicals for fun was one thing.  Adding a purpose in, that changed the nature of it drastically.  Now that they had gotten it, they had to do at least a half-hour of tests to ensure that it was working properly.
         “Before we begin, Larry, I just want to say thank you.  You’ve been a great partner all these years.”
         Why was he saying this, he felt like Ross knew something about this that he didn’t.  Like it would cost them their lives.  There was no risk.  This happened to one in every three-thousand scientists.  The chance of it happening was all of 0.03%, a risk worth taking for the love of science.

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         ‘Remember, the line of work for a scientist involves many risks…”
         Great, the stupid warning we hear every time we do any work.  Larry would gladly skip this if it was legal to by federal law.  It wasn’t.  After about a quarter-hour of the monotonous voice droning on about the risks, they were allowed to begin their work.
         “Alright, time to see if this new machine was worth the replacement.”  After twenty-five minutes of its testing, the machine was prepared for the next operation.  They technically were testing it for accuracy and proper functioning still.  Or was this just the excuse they had for this “new method” of testing?
         They began to label the chemicals’ beakers with numbered labels.  It was a total of 87 combinations.  If it took them about a quarter-hour per chemical, they should only need twenty-two hours, twenty-three, maximum?  He discussed with his partner that they should probably split it up into two or three days.  It was agreed to meet in an hour, at high noon, after lunch, then test until six o’clock for today.  They would meet at eight o’clock sharp the next two days, work for three hours, take a lunch break, then finish with five solid hours.  Any extra time required would be added on the next day.

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         As decided, they headed off for a quick lunch before the testing began.  They headed to the usual lunch of Mickey D’s.  They each ordered the same thing as usual.  The only trick was that they headed to the table and only ate, without the usual discussion of the upcoming task.  It seemed they each knew the effect on them and knew the other was the same.  They ate their Big Macs in silence, without any communication.  They finished at about the same time.  Ross stood and Larry knew it was time to go.  The car ride back to the laboratory was silent, as the meal had been.

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         They began with the first chemical.  Each chemical was required by law to be tested with the basics.  Mixed with water, boiled, a small drop placed on various surfaces, all those simple things with everyday items.  After three chemicals, Larry could tell Ross was bored to death.  He loved free experimentation, not structured and “more precise” testing.
         After about an hour, they had gotten used to the testing.  They were ahead of schedule, having finished five chemicals, instead of the expected four.  Another few hours passed without a problem.  This could take shorter than expected.  They had been working for five hours straight and tested up to the twenty-fourth chemical without any issue coming up.  Sure there was the occasional wish-well from fellow scientists, but nothing huge.  They decided to stop for the day since they were ahead.  The normal procedure for ending any laboratory work was followed.  They went home for resting before the seven hours the next day.

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         The next day, Ross had arrived late by an entire hour.  Today, their pace had seemed to slow drastically.  They hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night out of fear that something would ruin such a monumental experiment.  They slugged on to about 10:30 A.M.  Ross had left to get more gas for the igniter on the heat pad.  As he retrieved the gas, Larry tried to get the fire to start.  After a few tries, it did.  He decided to test while Ross got the fuel.  He put chemical twenty-seven on the heat pad and searched for the boiling point.  He seemed to find it, but the number was changing rapidly.  It wasn’t constant.  He suddenly heard a hissing noise, which quickly stopped.  A foul, indescribable odor filled the air.  He looked at the beaker; its color was…changing.  It wasn’t just slowly changing; it was a blend of ever-changing colors.  Larry looked at the previous research papers from other experiments.  They didn’t describe anything such as what he was witnessing.
         He looked at the chemical, which has risen up in the beaker.  It was rapidly expanding out of control.  Then, a sound of shattering glass filled the air.  It spilled onto the chemical-resistant tabletop.  It quickly ate through the “indestructible” element like a pair of scissors cutting tissue paper.  It began to mess with the room temperature and lighting.  The changes were noticed by his secretary who suddenly walked in to get a progress check.  She fainted and fell into the ever expanding pool of the chemical.  He had to save her.  Larry couldn’t move a limb.  His body went numb and he fell to the ground, perhaps never to rise again.  He lost consciousness without any delay after hitting the ground.  The last thing her remembers was the cold of the chemical, the hands of death, chilling him to the bone.

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         He woke up to the sound of a siren sounding above him.  He and his secretary were being taken to a nearby hospital for treatment.  He found a notepad in his coat pocket.  He quickly scribbled a note to himself for when he returned to the job.

Chemical 27’s Reaction to Heat:
Requires further supervised testing.

         Larry drifted back into unconsciousness.  He knew in his heart it was over.  He would live.  His life was still in his possession.  Whether it would be normal, however, was not in his possession.  What mattered most to him was still there.
         His life.
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