Rain Saga

by Barton, Riley

  “Welcome back, Miss Luna. How was your trip?” A small female voice asked as Luna started the car, causing her to jump in surprise.

  “Ada! You startled me!”

  “I am sorry, Miss Luna. I did not intend to startle you. I just wanted to know how your trip went. It has been so long since we last spoke.”

  Luna relaxed. “That’s okay, Ada. My trip didn’t go exactly like I’d hoped, but it was still a huge success.”

  “That is good to hear, Miss Luna.”

  Luna smiled. Despite being a run-of-the-mill commercial AI unit, Ada had always seemed a bit more human to her than most of the other computers she’d met, and she’d come to enjoy their conversations. In fact, speaking to her again made her realize how much she’d missed having the AI around while she’d been in the hospital.

  Luna popped the car into reverse and then remembered the sling holding her arm firmly across her torso.

  She bit her lip and pressed her foot down on the brake pedal. There was no way she could drive with just one arm—at least not safely.

  “Hey, Ada, can you drive me back to my apartment? I um … sort of hurt my arm on my trip, and now I can’t drive.”

  “Of course, Miss Luna. Interfacing with vehicle controls now.”

  Luna watched the steering wheel move slightly from side to side as Ada’s program took control of the BMW.

  “Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Luna,” Ada said a moment later. “We’ll be arriving at your apartment building shortly. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?”

  “Some music would be nice,” Luna replied.

  “Do you have any specific music requests?”

  “Not really,” Luna said, “just … play something good.”

  “Of course, Miss Luna. Searching music database for music marked as something good.”

  Luna sank back in her chair, losing herself in the music as Ada drove her home. Eventually the inner workings of her mind took over and she began to lose track of time all together.

  The next thing she knew, she was in the parking garage of her building, wondering how long she’d been sitting there.

  “Miss Luna? Are you well?” Ada asked.

  “Yeah … I’m fine.” She replied, snapping back into reality.

  “That’s good to hear. You haven’t spoken in nearly forty-five minutes.”

  “I’m all right. I was just spacing out.” Luna replied, gathering up her duffel bag. “I’m going to take you inside now, Ada. You’d better interface to my headset again.”

  “Of course, Miss Luna. Disengaging vehicle interface. Returning to all-purpose device.”

  Luna waited until the blue light on her headset lit up, then carefully unplugged the device and slipped it into her pocket along with the keys to both her car and her apartment. She locked the BMW then made her way up to her apartment.

  For the next several hours Luna did nothing but read and relax, and she would have continued to do so if her stomach hadn’t interrupted her with persistent growling.

  With a sigh she got up off the couch and reluctantly fixed herself something to eat before deciding to call it a night.

  She gathered up her dishes and deposited them in the sink, then went to her room and reached under her pillow for her pajamas before tromping off to the bathroom to change. Once there, she undressed and cautiously removed the gauze bandage from her tender shoulder. She quickly applied some topical antiseptic gel to the two sets of small, red-rimmed incisions, re-bandaged them, and then slipped into her pajamas.

  After she’d brushed her teeth Luna went back into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and popped two of her super-sized prescription pills before finally heading off to bed.

  You’ve got a big day ahead of you, Luna, she told herself as she switched off the light. You’d better get rested up if you want to make a good impression at the press conference.

  She closed her eyes and smiled in the darkness.

  Chapter 17

  Luna gingerly returned the squirming lab rat to its Plexiglas cage and tossed the syringe into the portable biohazard bin she was carrying.

  One hundred and ten down—two hundred and ninety to go.

  Luna stretched her stiff neck and looked around the cage-filled lab. Nearly every available space in her laboratory was filled with cages—which were filled with large, white rats. Four hundred subjects to test her new Blister Wart cure and all of its subsequent variations.

  Luna shuddered. She didn’t much care for rats, but surprisingly, she’d actually begun to feel sorry for the pink-eyed rodents. Every single one of them had been infected with the disease so that she could inject them with various mixtures of her experimental—and possibly lethal—cure.

  “Okay, Alex. Subject one-one-zero has been infused with two milliliters of mixture LM34, variation F. Make a note of it, and add it to the log,” Luna said, walking over to a stack of padded cases piled near the room’s airlock door. Each of the stainless steal briefcases was filled with the variations of her cure—already loaded into four hundred pre-measured syringes.

  “Requested data added, Doctor.” Alex replied as Luna cautiously picked up another loaded syringe. “Forgive me, Doctor McKelly. I do believe you’re forgetting something incredibly important.”

  “Hmm? And what might that be?” She replied, already making her way back into the maze of cages.

  “Your press conference, Doctor McKelly.”

  Luna would have smacked herself in the forehead if not for the white hazmat suit she was wearing. She’d been so engrossed in her experiment that she’d completely forgotten about it.

  “The press conference!” She shouted, nearly dropping the syringes. “Alex! I told you to remind me!”

  “I believe I just did, Doctor McKelly.”

  “That’s not what I meant! I need time to get ready!”

  “You do have time,” Alex replied. “You have precisely twenty minutes.”

  “I’m not a super computer, Alex! Twenty minutes is, like … no time at all! Look at me!” she said, indicating her suit with a frustrated wave of her hands. “It’ll take me at least that long just to take all this off!”

  “Then I suggest you start immediately.”

  “Yeah, you think?” She snapped. “Open the airlock!”

  She didn’t wait for Alex to reply. She was through the airlock door the moment it opened, fumbling with her suit’s zipper while she waited impatiently for the airtight chamber’s second set of doors to open.

  Come on, Alex! Hurry it up!

  The doors slowly parted with a hiss and she bolted into the ready room on the other side of the airlock, racing through the decontamination process with an unprofessional sloppiness that would have made her sick to her stomach if she’d stopped to think about it.

  Luna opened the double set of security doors and made a mad dash for the lab’s locker room. She quickly slipped out of the one-piece hazmat jumpsuit—ignoring the pain in her shoulder—and scrambled into the shower, hastily switching on the water. Ice-cold water bombarded her skin and she yelped in surprise, fumbling blindly for the tap. A few seconds later the water had warmed to a more comfortable temperature and she hurriedly scrubbed off all the sweat that had accumulated on her while she’d been wearing the hazmat suit.

  She dried off and quickly dressed herself in the suit she’d picked out that morning. She hurriedly applied her makeup then checked her wristwatch and grimaced. There were only five minutes left until the press conference was scheduled to start!

  Luna glanced in the polarized mirror and her grimace changed to an exasperated frown as she eyed the mess of long hair dangling limply around her shoulders like overdone spaghetti. Reluctantly, she pinned her hair back with a pair of simple hairpins. If anyone had issues with her look, then that was their problem. She wouldn’t be winning any awards for best-dressed researcher of the year, but at least now she was somewhat presentable.

  “Alex, lock down the lab for t
he day!” she called, hopping on one foot as she struggled to cram her feet into the only pair of high heels she owned. “I won’t be coming back until tomorrow, so you’ll probably want to have someone come in here and clean up the mess in the locker room!”

  “Of course, Doctor McKelly. I shall have one of the janitorial staff see to it at once. Good-bye, and have a nice evening. I’ll see you at your light-therapy session tonight.”

  Oh yeah … that’s tonight. Can’t forget that, too!

  “Okay, I’ll be there!” she called over her shoulder. “See you, Alex! Wish me luck!”

  Before Alex could reply, Luna was out the door and frantically scurrying down the long hallway toward the elevator.

  She skidded to a stop in front of the elevator’s shiny black doors and tapped the button several times.

  “Come on, come on!” she muttered to herself, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Why had she decided to wear heels?

  The moment the doors parted, Luna threw herself into the lift and punched the button for the main lobby. She leaned back against the wall and drummed her fingers against its smooth, steel-paneled surface. Everything was taking too long!

  The elevator slowed then stopped, and the doors slid open. Within seconds Luna was trotting clumsily across the lobby, drawing curious glances as she struggled to keep her balance in her tall shoes.

  Ignoring them, she ran to the doors, pushed them open, and staggered out into the dim, mid-afternoon light. About two blocks away she could see the Unitech headquarters building towering above every other structure in the complex.

  She balanced precariously on one foot on the edge of the steps and pulled off first one shoe then the other before sprinting down to the sidewalk. Luna gripped her shoes tightly in one hand and ran toward the headquarters. She would make it on time—she had too!

  After about the first block, her lungs began to burn, and she found herself gasping painfully. She reached for her inhaler and drew in several deep lungfuls. She couldn’t give up—not now! She was so close! Luna hurried down the sidewalk past several rows of news vans and pushed her way through the company headquarters’ imposing double doors into the elegant lobby beyond.

  Once inside she paused to put her shoes on, and then she dashed to the reception desk and the bemused secretary seated behind it.

  “Hi … I’m Luna McKelly … I’m supposed to meet Mr. Edgard in the main conference hall … like … right now,” Luna gasped.

  The receptionist stared at her blankly for a few seconds then pointed to a nearby elevator. “Um … of course. The conference hall is on the eightieth floor. You can’t possibly miss it. Do you want me to call ahead and let Mr. Edgard know you’ve arrived?”

  “Yes, please! Thank you!” Luna shouted over her shoulder, already running across the lobby to the waiting elevator.

  She jumped into the lift the moment the doors opened. The elevator jolted then began to rise, and Luna finally allowed herself to relax. She leaned back into the corner and took several long draughts on her inhaler while she struggled to steady her uneven breathing.

  Why did I do that? It’s not like it was a matter of life or death that I get here on time. … I’m sure they would have waited, Luna scolded herself as she fell into a fit of violent coughing.

  She moaned and rubbed her aching chest, hoping that by the time she reached the top floor she would have regained enough composure to at least keep from gagging into the microphones every two seconds.

  About a minute later, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, giving Luna her first look at the crowded conference hall.

  Her mouth went suddenly dry and she swallowed, completely taken aback: the entire place was packed from wall to wall with reporters and other news personnel, each competing for the best angle of the speaker’s podium at the far end of the lofty chamber.

  Wow. It looks like every major network in the world is here, she thought nervously, her darting eyes taking in the many faces filling the room. She recognized a few of them from television, but the majority were strangers to her.

  She felt her knees go weak.

  What was I thinking?

  At that moment Luna seriously considered going back down the elevator. Her finger was already on the button when she remembered how excited she’d been the day before and how important news of her progress would be to the countless victims of the Blister Wart disease. Slowly, she removed her finger from the glowing circle.

  “Ah, Miss McKelly! You made it.”

  She turned and saw Mr. Edgard pushing his way through the crowd toward her.

  “Just barely,” Luna replied with a lopsided smile, extending her hand to her boss.

  “And not a moment too soon. If these people had to wait another minute to get a shot of your beautiful smile, we’d probably have a riot on our hands.”

  To her horror she found herself blushing at his indirect compliment. He was nearly forty years her senior—and her boss. She definitely did not have any feelings for him—but his words still struck a cord in her heart that wasn’t easily ignored. She had actually lost track of how long it had been since anyone besides Alex had told her she was pretty, much less beautiful.

  She found herself standing in front of everyone, blushing and grinning foolishly before she finally cleared her throat and spoke again.

  “Um … thanks. Well … since I’m finally here shouldn’t we get on with the press conference?” she said, pointing at the podium in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

  “Of course. Come with me. We’d better not keep the public waiting any longer.”

  She followed Edgard through the sea of people and up a short set of steps to the podium.

  “Attention please,” Mr. Edgard’s voice called out over the throng, “this press conference will begin in exactly thirty seconds and will continue for thirty minutes and thirty minutes only. Once that time limit has been reached, we will not be taking any more questions.” He gestured to Luna and motioned for her to stand beside him. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the head researcher on the Blister Wart project here at Unitech: Miss Luna Jane McKelly. Thank you.”

  Luna Jane? Wow. I haven’t been called that for a while.

  The room echoed with the sound of applause as Luna bit her lip and took a cautious step toward the mic.

  She smoothed the wrinkles out of her suit, set her purse down behind the podium, and gave the reporters the most charming smile she could muster.

  “Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Edgard.” She said, glancing at him for a fraction of a second before returning her attention to the sea of reporters. “If someone would like to start, I’ll try to answer your questions as best I can.”

  No sooner had the words left her mouth than the room erupted with the loudly voiced questions of hundreds of reporters.

  Luna leaned forward and strained to make out the questions being shouted at her. Finally she raised her hand and pointed to one reporter near the front of the pack—someone she recognized from the evening news.

  “George O’Farrell, channel twenty news.” The thirty-year-old reporter said, flashing her his trademark grin. “How long have you been part of the research team working on the Blister Wart cure?”

  “I’ve been working on this project for the past two years,” Luna replied.

  “And how long do you think it will be before your labs have produced a viable human cure?”

  “I can’t say anything for certain as of yet,” Luna said, “but in light of recent breakthroughs, I think it is safe to predict that a cure compatible with the human genome will be available to the public well within the next two years, if not sooner.”

  “So I take it you’ve begun animal testing then?” Another reporter—this one a young woman from the New Denver Post—asked.

  Luna nodded. “That is correct. Though we’re still in the early stages of testing, everything looks to be going smoothly. But once again, it’s too early to say for sure wheth
er or not this first group of tests will be successful.”

  She looked up from the newspaper reporter and glanced around the room before settling on a young man near the edge of the crowd.

  “You. Yes, you way in the back,” Luna said, pointing.

  The man cleared his throat and took a step closer so he could be heard over the crowd, “Max Harvey from the Tribune. Is it true you were injured during the recent Swamper incident?”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Luna replied.

  “Would you care to explain what you—a civilian—were doing in the swamp to begin with?”

  “I was gathering important samples for use in my research.”

  “So it was your fault that you and the agents assigned to protect you were attacked?”

  “I had nothing to do with the attack,” Luna replied hotly, deciding right then and there that she didn’t much care for Mr. Max Harvey. “What happened in the swamp was unfortunate for everyone—including myself— and I wish it could have been avoided. However, it was necessary for us to collect those samples. Without them, there would be no cure and you—my friend—would have no story. Next question please.”

  “How are you and the agents recovering from your injuries?” Someone in the middle of the throng shouted.

  “I don’t think I’m at liberty to tell you anything about the other men who were injured,” Luna said, addressing the portly man who’d spoken. “However, I can tell you that I am doing just fine and should make a full recovery soon.”

  Her statement was met by a flurry of questions, and she hurriedly looked around the room before pointing to another reporter.

  “If your injuries were as severe as the official report indicates, then how is it you were able to survive for so long without Unitech aid? Did someone help you?”

  Luna froze. Even though she’d already given her statement to Landers several times over, she still felt uncomfortable every time she was forced to repeat the hedged cover story Mark had given her.

  She worked her small jaw for a moment then replied, hoping she sounded convincing, “Yes … I was helped by an inter-colonial merchant who was on his way between settlements. Luckily he came by when he did, or I probably wouldn’t be here today.”