The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

“Thanks, Danny.” Ellen extended her hand to him. “I needed to just chat with someone and you helped me there. And here I was the one who was supposed to help you.”

  “Yeah, but as you so often point out,” before Danny released her hand, he kissed it, “we’re in Beginnings now. Isn’t that what people in Beginnings do, help each other out? Of course now since I’ve stepped in, we can add—help people to appreciate the fact that the business world can still exist in a plague ravaged society.”

  Ellen laughed at Danny. “You’re funny.”

  “I try.”

  “No you don’t. It’s natural to you.”

  “Yeah it is. But I do it well.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  “Thanks.” Danny took one more look out below him. “Ready to go back down?”

  “Making you bored already?” Ellen asked.

  “No.” Danny smiled. “Anxious.” Danny gave a slight shiver of a breath. “Very anxious.”

  <><><><>

  Dean’s finger felt for small raised dot on the ‘J’ key of his keyboard so he could place his hands on the home row. Just as he prepared to lay his foot on the pedal to start his tape to do his dictation of Ellen notes, he paused and lifted his hands. He felt all the keys again, just to be sure, and so as not to get ahead of himself. He remembered doing the day before notes, getting comfortable on the home keys, only to start and realize that he felt more than one raised dot. There was an explanation for it, one word. Frank.

  So he felt around, felt only the one dot, and replaced his hands on the home-row keys. He took a second to shake his head at the thought of all that Frank had done to him lately, a sick series of blind jokes on him that Dean found far from amusing. He moved his computer to a totally different location, making Dean feel around for it. And placed Johnny’s lab coat where Dean usually found his; so when he placed it on, the sleeves would dangle way past his hands. Anything Frank could do to make it more annoying for Dean, he did. He still could hear the hysterical laughter of Frank when he came up and told Dean that he put him on the roster for the next day’s softball game. Dean was scheduled to be the pitcher. How funny Frank thought himself, how childish Dean thought he was. Of course, Dean hated to admit that Frank’s little practical jokes kept him on his toes and taught him more than anything else.

  After dwelling in the ‘Frank world of dementia’, Dean returned to his own world and to the tiny tape of dictation that awaited him. He couldn’t figure out how Ellen had done all that she did to warrant two tapes. She didn’t say she had done that much work. But she had to have, so Dean had the first tape, one of the two he found in her lab coat pocket. Ellen couldn’t leave them on the counter or in the dictation machine. She had to make it complicated for him every day by making it a hide-and-go-seek game, radioing her and asking where the tape was. And hearing every day, Ellen say the same thing. ‘Uh ... I uh ... I think it’s in the drawer, no wait, the special ... no ... check my lab coat.’ Shuddering at Ellen-conversation flashbacks, Dean’s foot depressed down on the Dictaphone.

  He listened to the usual clearing of her throat, her good mornings or afternoons, her stupid thought for the day, and then, after two minutes of nonsense rambling, he placed his hands on the keyboard and prepared himself.

  “July 28th,” Ellen spoke.

  “What?” Dean said out loud. “El, this is three days ago. Why am I finding this tape now?” He grunted and waited, listening to her talk about how she was waiting, and still waiting. Dean wanted to fast-forward but was afraid he’d miss something so he listened some more.

  “So what are we going to do about the two doses of antiserum?”

  Dean lifted his foot from the pedal and rewound the tape a second, listening to Ellen’s comment again. He stopped the tape completely and froze. “Shit, Ellen. Good point.” He backed it up and listened one more time. Making a mental note to put some thought into that, a bright smile hit Dean’s face when he heard her tell him she loved him. After letting the nice moment pass, Dean immediately went to thinking about what she could possibly want or was trying to cover up.

  Then it hit him. It made Dean jump up. It made him shudder and pull the earphone from his head. Ellen’s shriek. Dean stomped and placed his finger to his ringing ear. “Aw God, Ellen.” He pressed harder to his ear. “You’re gonna make me deaf as well. What the hell are you screaming about?”

  Apprehensively, he placed the headset back on and tapped the fast forward pedal, listening as he did to what sounded like the end of the screaming. Then he heard her ramble off her excited explanation. “You did what?” he asked the tape, rewound it—too far—jumped at the shrieks again and heard her again. “No way.” Again, he played it. “Oh my God.” He breathed heavily. “It has to be an error.” He commented on Ellen’s break through on the host virus. “Ellen, you couldn’t have done this. This is too big, you had to find a mistake in here or why else didn’t you mention this to me.” Dean moved the tape ahead hoping she explained more, but the tape was blank. “What is going on?” He took off the headphones and reached outward to his right for the phone he had placed there. He pressed the number three button for the speed dial to Containment.

  Danny answered. “Containment, this is Danny.”

  “Danny? Why are you answering the phone?” Dean asked.

  “It was ringing.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a Survivor.”

  “And a mighty good one too, Dean.”

  “You’re not allowed to answer the phone.”

  “Why?” Danny asked.

  “Because it’s the rules.”

  “Kind of a dumb rule, don’t you think? I mean, especially when in less than twenty-four hours, I will be an official Beginnings-ite. Right?”

  “Yes, but we have to follow rules.”

  “Even about answering the phone?” Danny quizzed.

  “Danny ...”

  “Dean, you have to admit, it’s really funny that you’re asking me about this,” Danny laughed, “this rule thing and you getting upset about me answering the phone. Does it have anything to do with those anal-retentive qualities that Frank has been telling me annoys him, or are you just going off about rules because I answered the phone and I wasn’t the person you wanted to talk to.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which one?”

  “Which one what?”

  “Which one are you saying ‘yes’ to?”

  “Danny,” Dean spoke his name so annoyed, “are you related to Henry?”

  “No, not really. It would have been brought up, don’t you think? I mean, he’s Japanese and I’m Chinese and unless we are Manchurian then that’s out of the question. Actually, remember in the old world there was a clash of interest between the Japanese and Chinese? Do you suppose that has anything to do with Henry not liking me much? It would be kind of dumb if it did. After all the world did ...”

  “Danny.”

  “Yes?”

  “May I speak to Ellen?”

  “No.”

  “Why?” Dean asked.

  “She’s not here,” Danny stated.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me that earlier.”

  “You didn’t ask about Ellen earlier, Dean. Hey, Jason is here, do you want to talk to him instead?”

  “No. I needed to speak to ...” Dean stopped talking when he heard the door to the lab open and Ellen’s cheerful greeting. “Never mind, she’s here.”

  “So does this mean were done with our telephone conversation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Danny asked him.

  “Goodbye, Danny.” Just as Dean pressed the button to end the call, he felt the kiss to his cheek. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

  Ellen smiled. “Ah, Dean, that is so sweet. With everything there is that you could want to look at if you still had your vision, you still wish it were me.” She kissed him again.

  “No, El, that’s not what meant.”

  “That’s what you said.”

  “Go
d.” Dean cringed. “I was ...”

  “Don’t you want to see me, if you could see?”

  “Yes, but I wanted to talk to you now.”

  “I’m here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s up?”

  Dean let out a short breath. “Did you ... were you ... damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Between yours and Danny’s rambling. I forgot.”

  “Well think about it ... oh shit.”

  “What?”

  “Um ... nothing.” Ellen closed one eye and looked at the computer screen to what Dean started to type. “Dean, this July 28th.”

  “Uh ha!” Dean called out loudly, causing Ellen to scream.

  “What!” She grabbed her chest. “You scared me.”

  “What the hell, El!” he yelled at her. “You didn’t give me the tape.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m listening to this and it’s driving me nuts. You ramble, you scream ... and what did it end up being that caused you to think you came up with the combination that effectively reigns over our host virus?”

  “Huh?”

  “It was an error right? I mean you misread the results.”

  “No I didn’t,” Ellen said

  “You didn’t misread them?” Dean questioned.

  “Nope.”

  “You got it up to eighty-three percent?”

  Ellen hesitated before answering, “Yes.”

  Dean was quiet for a second, then his voice rose to the highest of levels, “Ellen!”

  “What?” She jumped back.

  “Why am I only hearing about this now, if you did this three days ago?”

  “Well ... I uh ... Dean.” Ellen cleared her throat. “I had a lot of problems in my personal life. See … Henry, he broke up with me, well not actually him breaking up with me. I broke up with him because he broke off the ...”

  “Stop!” Dean stood up. “Before I go on, tell me if I’m facing you.”

  “Um ...” Ellen moved a little to her right. “OK, now you are.”

  “Thank you. Ellen, you single-handedly came up with a more effective antidote?”

  “I guess. It was a mistake. See I was singing the ‘Silly’ song while I was mixing up the batch, and I screwed up, which was very easy to do, Dean. The names were so similar. So I ...”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this? This is great news.”

  “It is isn’t it?” Ellen grinned. “I was going to tell you.”

  “Did you forget about it? You had to have forgotten about it. How, I don’t know, it’s a really big thing.”

  “I kind of did and I kind of didn’t. See I had a plan.”

  “Which was?”

  Ellen hem-hawed about, “I was gonna have you mix the batch, you know, tell you it was a lesson and then tell you that you put in the wrong ingredient which was actually the right ingredient and let you be the one to have the credit.”

  “W-why would you do that?” Dean was stunned.

  “I love you, Dean. I’d rather everyone think you did it on purpose rather than me doing it by accident. Besides, this batch will deserve a lot of credit and if it gets out that I was the one, it wouldn’t get the credit it deserves. Trust me.”

  “Well, you will get the credit. I’m proud of you.” Dean reached out his hand and hit air. “I thought you said I was facing you?”

  “I lied. I didn’t want you mad at me and flicking me or anything.”

  “Ellen.” Dean shook his head and felt around slowly until he touched her. “Excellent job.” He stepped to her and kissed her. “Now ... let’s talk about this.”

  “OK, let me get my lab coat.”

  “Why do you need your lab coat? We’re only talking.”

  “So I can feel like a scientist.”

  “No.” Dean shook his head. “We’re just gonna talk. I need to be updated.”

  “OK.”

  Dean stepped back, feeling for his chair, and sat down. “Wanna sit?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Ellen pulled up a chair.

  Dean waited until he heard the silence of her shuffling about. “All right, you tested the new batch on the rabbits?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?” Dean waited for more. “I need an ‘and’ because there is nothing further about it on the tape. Is it on the next day’s?”

  “No.”

  “OK.” Dean tried to remain calm. “So I’m taking it that it really didn’t work.”

  “Oh it worked.”

  “On the rabbits?” Dean spoke as if he were speaking to a child, or explaining something to Frank.

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “You know how our Agent Seventeen made them worse before it started working? Well, that didn’t happen with the new batch. Nothing adverse happened at all within the first two hours.”

  “What happened after the first two hours?”

  Ellen shrugged.

  “El?”

  “I answered you.”

  “No you didn’t.”

  “Yes I did. I shrugged.”

  “I’m blind, El. You have to be verbal. So you don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t you know?”

  “See I uh ... I uh ...”

  “We’ll try something different, El. When did the rabbits show signs of improvement?”

  “I don’t know.” Ellen held up her finger. “But they were better the next day.”

  “Why don’t you know any of this, El? You created a new batch, you injected it into the rabbits. Where did you get lost?”

  “I didn’t. I left.”

  “You left?” Dean asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you leave in the middle of a new batch?”

  “Dean,” Ellen gasped. “I had to try on my wedding dress. Of course now that was an obsolete move. Prick Henry.”

  Dean grunted. “Ellen, now I am going to assume you mixed up more, right.”

  “Wrong. I really couldn’t do that. It would defeat the whole purpose of making it out to look like you did it instead of me if I created an entire batch. Geez, Dean, think about that.”

  “Ellen, if you didn’t mix up more, then how do you know that you pinpointed where your error was and that you could actually recreate it?”

  “I don’t.”

  Dean closed his eyes and brought his hands to his head.

  “What’s wrong? Do you have a headache? I wonder if it’s your sinuses because my head has been bothering ...” She slowed her words when she watched Dean lower his hands and sway his head her way. “Sorry, I just have all this talking that needs to get out.”

  “Let’s go.” Dean’s hands fell to the tops of his thighs with a slap.

  “Where?”

  “We’re gonna make another batch. Then you’re going to describe to me everything you’re doing while you’re doing it. We’ll run the analysis, you’ll describe that, then we’ll inject the rabbits and you’ll describe that.”

  “Dean, that’s gonna take an awfully long time. We have to pick the kids up at four, and I have to get dinner ready because I have that meeting tonight that I don’t want to miss.”

  “Tough. We’ll call Joe to get the kids.”

  “It’ll take eight hours to do all of this, Dean. If we start right now, I won’t get home until seven. I have to shower and do my hair. I have a date with Forrest after my meeting.”

  “Go dirty, I don’t care. We have work.” Dean moved to the cabinet where they kept the ingredients.

  “We can do it tomorrow.”

  “No.”

  “We’ll have all day.”

  “No.”

  “We needed to start sooner.”

  “So we’ll start now.” He opened the cabinet.

  “Please, Dean?”

  “No!”

  “Dick.”

  “Ellen.” He flung open the right side of the cabinet. “This is important. The more you whine, the longer
it’ll take for us to get started. Let’s go.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes and joined him at the cabinet. “You know Frank was right yesterday when he was talking about you and your work.”

  “Yeah well, Frank is always right. He’s a God.”

  Ellen snickered as she pulled two bottles out of the cabinet. “Glad to hear you finally recognized that, Dean.” She laughed harder at his grunt. “Just ... no, Dean, wrong bottle.”

  Dean released the bottle he gripped. “Sorry. Where is it?”

  “Oh you had it. I was kidding you.”

  “Ellen.” He re-grabbed the bottle. “Keep it up and I’m calling Henry to be here while we work.”

  Silence.

  “Ellen?”

  “Oh, I’m not saying a word. I don’t want Henry here.”

  Dean smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ellen really hoped that all the dip wasn’t gone by the time she got to the meeting. Trotting off at a quick pace to Jenny’s, carrying a little pouch in her hand, she arrived, hungry from the lack of dinner, and a half an hour late. She knocked on the door to announce her arrival then walked in. “Sorry I’m late. Dean had me working.”

  All the women in the room turned upon her entrance.

  Jenny stood from her seat next to Trish on the couch. “We were waiting, no problem.” She walked toward Ellen. “Have a seat.”

  “I brought my supplies.” Ellen held up her bag. “I didn’t get a chance to make a finger food. Don’t be mad.”

  “Oh.” Jenny waved her hand. “We all know what you’re working on up there is important.”

  Ellen stepped over the extended legs of Bev and took the spot on the couch between her and Trish. Ellen shuffled in her seat. She looked to see if Bev was taking too much room, maybe not as close to the arm of the sofa as she should be, but Bev was pressed against it. “Am I getting fat? How did Jenny fit here?” Ellen asked, trying to fit in the spot. “What’s wrong with this ...” She looked to see if Trish was against the arm, but she couldn’t see the arm of the sofa over Trish’s pregnant stomach. “God, Trish, you’re getting huge.”

  Trish opened her mouth in a gasp.

  “Aren’t you overdue?” Ellen asked her as she reached for some dip. “Drop that kid so we can get the betting ...”