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of the local LANL workers took heat for it after the discovery. The entire plant had been on edge ever since, and it was clear they weren’t taking it lightly, beefing up security with more guards patrolling in black camouflage gear and M-16 machine guns. Whereby you could normally flash your pass and drive in, the protective force officers were now in the habit of doing random vehicle inspections in and out of the Lab, and they must have loved his truck, as they would stop him on the way out without fail and do a search. On any other ordinary day this wouldn’t have been a problem—except today wouldn’t be any ordinary day.
    Parking in his assigned spot between an ocean of cars, Scott stepped out of the Ford and glanced at the familiar sight of tired-eyed workers entering the main glass building while others emerged, passing them in almost a zombie state. The Lab operated around the clock, with shift changes occurring every hour. Scott had never dealt with shifts and his job description couldn’t be found in the HR booklet. No, his job carried the highest level of security. He practically lived there, they made sure of that.
    Inside, workers fanned out in all directions. Between the entrance and the main security desk was a secondary checkpoint, where you were automatically scanned like at airport terminals. On the surface security looked like any other restricted facility. Bags were checked, badges had to be worn at all times above the hip and everyone had to be authorized to gain access to restricted areas within the facility. The whole place had the feel of a beehive, and it operated just like a hive. Each worker asked no questions, operated only in their segment, and was only privy to information essential to their field of expertise. Everything was on a need-to-know basis. That’s the way the company liked it. Scott often wondered if they all knew what was really going on. Who they were really working for?
    He certainly never knew, at least up until the day they spotted his potential, his success and his achievements with the Genome Project.
    “Move ahead,” a voice commanded.
    Scott stepped through the doorway scanner, pausing for a moment, until the brawny security guard signaled he was clear. Today his destination was different. His time usually was split between the Bioscience division, located in the lab where all the research was done. And then there was the other division—and it was from that other place his presence had been requested. There were days he wished he hadn’t been successful. He scurried down a series of hallways and bends in the corridor, observing at every turn his reflection in the black surveillance domes that monitored his movement. His feet clattered against the ground as he passed through a series of elaborate doors, each heavily guarded by men who were stoic and soulless. He eventually turned a final corner and approached the elevator.
    He pressed his hand against the glass palm reader, and a band of blue shimmering light swept back and forth beneath it, causing the steel elevator doors to give way.
    As he stepped inside, he mentally cursed the day he ever set foot in this place. The doors sealed together behind him. There were no buttons, locks or swipe devices inside as this had only one option and it chose it for you. As he began to descend, he considered how primitive the security measures were up until that point—how such technology used to impress him, and yet, it was nothing more than child’s play compared to what lay ahead.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The hustle and bustle in the halls was deafening, Travis mused, before jerking his head sideways to avoid the soccer ball hurtling back and forth between a pair of testosterone-fueled jocks. It was like trying to slash your way through dense jungle foliage as students filled up the hallways, retrieving books from open lockers and rehashing the previous weekend’s conquests. They swapped stories as if comparing medals, each