Morning all. It is a bright and shiny Monday morning. So let’s start it off right with a writing prompt. Everyone ready? Stretch those writing muscles so you don’t sprain anything. And off we go for a fifteen minute writing sprint.
Not sure what the experiment is but I suspect the delays are going to be important.
Monday, June 5th: He just knew this time it would happen.
He just knew this time it would happen. He stared at the test tube gently bubbling away over the flame. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to adjust the flame. He knew it was a good level, he just wanted something to fiddle with while he waited for the reaction. He gripped the edge of his lab goat instead, fiddling with the edge of a partially torn pocket, fingers worrying the cloth as his gaze shifted between the gently simmering liquid and the clock.
‘Two minutes. Three…’ He followed the second hand around the dial. If it didn’t shift color before the five minute mark he would know it failed.
‘It can’t fail this time,’ he told himself. “It will work.” He muttered.
‘Three and a half minutes.’
An alarm sounded. A klaxon that echoed through the halls, vibrating off of hard surfaces. He jumped and he hear ripping fabric as he tore the frayed edge of his pocket. He knew protocol He knew he had to evacuate his wing. Mentally scrolling through all the profanity he knew in all five of the languages he was fluent in, Sam turned off the burner and shifted the metal arm holding the test tube away from the heat source. Even without the flame burning he didn’t want to risk leaving it directly over the burner.
‘It’s trash now,’ he thought, even as he carefully made certain every chemical was away from any potential heat source. The concoction was still flammable and he didn’t want to bring damage to his lab. The alarms were still sounding, and Sam grabbed his notes, on the off chance the fire was real and not a drill. He knew the concoction was not salvageable but he wouldn’t risk his notes. He had them saved electronically of course, but there was something about his hand written notes that he preferred working with.
Notes gathered, he stormed out of the lab. There had been no notice of a practice drill scheduled for the day. While there were occasionally surprise drills they generally kept them to a minimum given the nature of the work in the building. While he was angry that his test was spoiled, he knew there were others who might be facing more dire consequences.
‘Surely they wouldn’t have a practice evacuation after the last incident.’
The last time a practice drill was called a department that was in the middle of a delicate and costly experiment nearly rioted. They considered their time and resources precious and the delay of the fire drill set them back two months. No one was pleased and it was decided that as those in the building could evacuate swiftly and with order, another test run might not be needed.
Sam snorted to himself as he headed for the stairwell and the flow of other lab coated denizens of his wing. Those who worked in this building were well aware of the sorts of things they worked with. No one ignored a warning to evacuate. They knew the risks and took the acceptable precautions.
All around him were grumbles about interruptions and dark mutterings should this prove another practice drill. Sam was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one facing down a ruined experiment or irritated by the delay. There would not be time to start over today. Once he returned he would have to strip everything down so he could start fresh in the morning. He nodded along with the gripes and grumbles. It was another delay on a project that had seen far too many of them in the last couple of months.
Ten til Midnight 