Rogue Experiment

By Fallton Havenstonne

Doctor Selena Cato-Sanchez was the most respected biologist at Glebe University. When Doctor Kenson asked her to take part in a groundbreaking experiment: boosting the brainpower of their students, how could she refuse?

 

The experiment was going well until one of her students, Sergey, fell into a coma. Now the police are after her and her colleagues. She must race against time to save him before they arrest her.

 

She will soon discover that the drug in the experiment mutated Sergey, changed him into something terrible and evil, giving him the power to destroy humankind. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fallton Havenstonne
• Release date: Feb 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393702931

Book preview

Chapter One

Randall ended the call and laid his cell down on his desk. Having worked as a mathematics professor at Glebe University for ten years, he had a beard to go with it and wore a flannel shirt to class regularly. His jeans were washed out, and his hair was long and wavy. Ungraded papers sat on his desk in piles. He taught statistics and a couple sections of calculus to freshmen. He had no interest in teaching anything else.

Randall scratched his beard, and then leaned back in his leather office chair.

What a mess, he groaned.

How bad is it? Selena said.

She sat across from his desk, her black hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. Selena was thirty-one and had on a lavender jacket because she was always cold in the faculty building. She had bags under eyes from staying up late grading papers. She spent more time than any other professor helping students with research, homework, and reviewing for exams. On weekends, she worked on her newest biology textbook, having published two already.

It was Lane, Randall said. He got word that they arrested Karl.

Karl! For what?

The experiment, of course.

But he didn’t have anything to do with it, Selena said. Heck, he just teaches philosophy. How could that hurt anyone?

His ideas did. They’re dangerous, apparently, he said sardonically.

Can an idea be dangerous? Selena said in a melancholy way.

Randall shrugged. I don't know. Is communism dangerous? Fascism?

They’re just ideas. They're not dangerous in themselves. They don't hurt anyone if you say them or think them.

Not by today's standards, Randall said dejectedly. And especially not Karl’s ideas.

Randall got up and gazed outside his office window, which was three stories up from the parking lot. He watched as the media frenzy stirred on campus, especially outside the faculty building. A swarm of reporters blockaded the parking lot as campus police guarded the front entrance of the building. The reporters wanted answers from the president of Glebe University, Lane Warnton, but he wasn’t going to speak to the press without consulting the board of directors first, or with his lawyer for that matter.

Earlier that day, Selena had overheard Lane in his office, yelling and grumbling with important people on the phone. He was getting more questions than answers. Lane knew he needed to address the fiasco of the comatose student whom his university professors had allegedly put in the hospital. He knew that the hospitalization was the result of a dangerous and unscrupulous experiment, but he didn’t know much beyond that. He had been too busy with managing school policies and boosting student enrollment to know what was going on inside each professor’s classroom. How would he find the time?

But now the university’s reputation was on the line, its image, and Lane had to protect it. If he had to throw some people under the bus to do so, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Just before Randall decided to sit back in his chair, he noticed a woman with a hooded jacket racing out of the faculty building. He recognized her as Professor Mora Tinker, the computer science faculty whose office was just down the hall from his. The reporters swarmed her like a pack of wolves. She panicked and stopped a few meters from her car. She couldn't get through.

Randall clenched his fists and jabbed the window with a hollow thud. Selena jumped.

What is it? she fretted.

It’s Mora. They’ve trapped her.

Who?

The reporters. They’re a bunch of vultures.

What do you mean they trapped her?

Look for yourself, he said.

She stood up and watched Mora Tinker from the window. The woman was clearly feeling helpless as the reporters boxed her in.

Let her go, he huffed.

Randall almost bolted out of the office when campus police forced their way through the reporters and cleared a path for her. Mora hurried into her sedan as the reporters stuffed microphones and cameras in her face. She got inside and slammed the door. Campus police yelled at the reporters to get back. They did, once the police used their bodies to herd them away. Mora drove off in alarm, nearly hitting a couple of reporters that were stubborn enough to stand in her way.

Bastards, Randall hissed. All of them.

Selena returned to the creaky wooden chair.

Randall closed the blinds and the room went dark. He turned on his desk light, which glowed like a lantern. He couldn’t take much more of what was going on outside. He thought he might snap and just scream in their faces. He sank down in his comfy leather office chair and drew in a deep breath.

Who knows? The police might arrest everyone in the faculty building, Randall said.

Not you, Selena said. You teach mathematics. You had nothing to do with the experiment. But me … I’m a scientist, and they could pin something on me. They arrested Harold this morning for his role in making the drug. Now they’ve got Karl.

Karl was the mastermind behind it. He was always pushing people’s buttons, pushing the envelope with his radical ideas. But that’s all they are: ideas. People either believe them or they don’t.

Are you referring to his theory of advanced forms?

Randall nodded. "He believed the human condition needed a radical change to make progress, that social norms constrained us from our highest potential. Natural form was just ordinary life experiences and institutional education, which supplied us with enough skills and knowledge to get by. To be advanced, these skills aren’t enough.

A total reconstruction and rewiring of the brain is required. You’ll see athletes push themselves to the limit to get the best out of their performance, to transcend what the average athlete can do. It’s the same with intellectuals: they sacrifice everything to crack the secrets of the universe. But what if these abilities were possible not to a select few, but to everyone? Karl has been working on this theory with Harold. And Harold has been developing a way to change the biochemistry of the brain to function at optimal levels.

Like changing the way the brain works?

"Exactly. In the classroom, Karl was working on thought experiments with his students, getting them to change their mode of thinking and behavior. He wanted to see if that boosted their intelligence and physical fitness.

Karl told me that socially learned behavior was always in the way. He could only get so far until they became uncomfortable with the thought experiments. Imagine someone telling you that everything is just an abstract construction, even your friends and family. Imagine having to live by it. It would be absurd and impractical. But he was trying to get them to think in a totally different light, to see things beyond the surface, beneath it. So he knew the only way to get them to change was to change their brain chemistry, Randall concluded.

Selena said, The students think he’s nuts, but interesting nonetheless. I’m still surprised he got arrested for it. He didn’t force anyone to take part in the experiment. He doesn’t even have the background to conduct a truly scientific investigation. That’s why he asked Harold to help him. And now that I think of it, Harold was probably offered a plea bargain and he threw Karl under the bus to take the fall for it. Lighten his sentence. I might be next. I’m a biologist, and some of my students took part in the experiment.

Randall drank some coffee from the mug on his desk. It was cold from sitting there for an hour, but he needed some caffeine for his next class, which was about to start in forty-five minutes.

Come on, Selena. They can’t lay a finger on you. You have tenure. Besides, all of your students love your class. You’ve published textbooks here and Lane Warnton thinks you’re one of the best professors at the school.

I'm serious, Selena said irately. I can lose my job over this. I knew what Harold was up to and I didn't say anything. I just didn’t want to get involved. I’m afraid he might implicate me.

She dug her nails into her palm.

Randall took another sip. I bet you weren't the only one that knew of Harold’s work in the experiment. Want anything to drink? I can get you some coffee from the lounge. Decaf, right?

Selena shook her head. It'd make me feel sicker than I already am.

Randall glanced at his wristwatch.

Don’t you have a class soon? Selena said.

Yes. Every Wednesday night. But I still have time.

Selena’s cell phone beeped. She read the text message with a gasp. Corbin just got arrested, she said.

And whom did you hear that from?

A friend of mine.

That makes three.

Selena’s right hand started to shake uncontrollably. She held in the urge to scream. Why are they doing this?

Randall said factually, You know as well as I do that Harold concocted and administered the drug for the experiment. He was trying to change brain cells, make them behave differently. Corbin’s background is in psychology, correct?

She nodded.

Randall continued: So he administered the psychological tests, did all of the evaluations after the drugs were given. Karl was the mastermind behind all of it. It was his theory, anyway. He just needed the know-how to implement his theory and prove that he was right. Why not get the best of the best to do the work for you? I know other people were involved, and I can take a good guess as to whom. He winked.

Selena felt a chill down her spine. Are you implying that I had something to do with it?

Randall finished his coffee and made a sour expression. An experiment involves risk, doesn't it?

Yes, Selena said.

Those students signed a waiver, right?

I’m certain they did.

Which means they released their rights in case anything were to happen. Side effects, illnesses, psychological effects, you name it. Apparently something did happen, and now these students want to press charges against them.

It was just one, Selena said.

One?

Only one student is pressing charges.

Uh huh. So that student took part in the experiment fully knowing all of the consequences and signed a waiver that negated responsibility on their part. I wonder if they even read the contract. But it doesn't matter now. It is what it is.

What are we going to do? Selena said.

We?

Selena turned beet red. She felt cold all of a sudden and clutched her lavender jacket. She plopped her head into her hands and started to sob.

I'm sorry, she sniffled. I didn't know any of this was going to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen.

It’s all right. You’re not alone. Look, I have a good lawyer. She’ll get us out of this mess, Randall said.

Selena raised her head up from her hands. She wiped her eyes dry. You had a part in it?

Randall nodded with a reassuring smile. Of course. I did the analysis of the data and lab results. I drew up all the statistics and graphs.

Selena finally felt at ease and smiled. She let out a deep breath, too. She was glad that she was not alone in this. At least there was someone to help her get through this, someone that she could trust. And Randall was someone she could trust with her life. He had saved her when the laboratory caught fire in D Hall. One of her students had negligently left the gas running after she told them to turn it off. Moments later, the lab exploded into flames and everyone ran out.

Randall was strolling down the hallway to talk with Doctor Gerald when it happened. Selena was in the lab by herself trying to put out the fire, but the smoke was too thick. She had nearly passed out from asphyxiation when he raced inside to save her. After he carried her outside the room, he went back in and extinguished the fire. Ever since the fire two years ago, she knew that Randall was someone she could trust with her life.

Selena said, Who else is involved? Lowell? Jamison?

No. They had nothing to do with it. Just the five of us, Randall said.

Randall reached for his drawer and took out a bag of chips. He tore it open forcefully. He had been craving something salty after the coffee. Besides, he always had a light snack before class so that he wouldn’t feel hungry during the two hours he would have to teach.

Want some? he offered.

No, Selena said disinterestedly. No thanks, I mean.

Suit yourself, he said, and began eating the chips.

You don't seem worried.

I didn't do anything wrong, Randall said calmly as he leaned back in his chair. I know my rights. And even if they try to pin something on me, Katarina will get me — us — out of this.

Who’s Katarina?

He took a business card out from the cardholder on his desk. "She’s our lawyer."

Three hard knocks reverberated at the door.

This is Detective Locke. Open the door, Professor Birchine.

They froze. Selena looked at Randall with panic-stricken eyes.

Don’t say anything, he said bluntly. I’ll handle this.

Randall got up slowly, brushing the grease and crumbs from his washed-out jeans, and then opened the door.

Hello, Detective, Randall said casually.

The detective ceremoniously flashed his badge. He was bald and had on a grey, wrinkly suit — linen, maybe. He was stocky and kept his right hand in his pocket like he had to look professional and tough at the same time. He had dark creases along his face from too much drinking or just the stress of the job. Having been with the force for the past fifteen years after an uneven experience as a car salesman, he didn’t take crap from anyone. The detective wanted things square and to the point.

Come with me to the station. I need you to answer some questions.

I have a class tonight, Randall said. Maybe tomorrow?

Right now, Detective Locke said.

He eyed Selena, who was sitting in the chair and looking demure. It was as if she was trying to remain invisible.

And you are? Detective Locke said, stepping into Randall’s office.

She’s just a friend, Randall said.

I wasn’t asking you, Detective Locke said. To Selena, he said, You don’t happen to be Doctor Selena Cato-Sanchez, do you? If you are, I need you at the station, too.

She turned pale. Her hands began to shake again like she was having a nervous breakdown.

Are you asking us, or telling us? Randall chimed in.

You mean, are both of you under arrest? Detective Locke smirked. Let me put it this way, he said, stepping up to Randall, his chest up against his. I could come back tomorrow with a warrant, and walk both of you out in handcuffs, humiliate you like I did to your professor pals, or you could come out like you intended to leave.

Detective Locke glanced back at Selena with dark eyes.

What will it be?

Chapter Two

Don’t play dumb with me. What role did you have in the experiment? Detective Locke demanded.

Katarina Septa whispered into Selena’s ears. Selena nodded.

I don’t know what experiment you’re talking about, Detective, Selena said firmly.

Don’t lie. He made a circle around Selena and Katarina at the table. Today, we arrested Doctor Harold Kenson. Boy, he was one tough cookie to crack. He told me you had a part in the experiment, said you helped him recruit the students. Just tell me everything you know and I promise I’ll reduce your sentence.

"My client told you