Taking Chances

Toronto: Noonien-Singh Institute Headquarters

What started as a sunny day was shaping to be a windy and rainy afternoon.

The tall woman walked at a fast pace, already regretting not taking her car for her lunch break meeting with one of the organizers of the Genetics Conference that was taking place in six months' time.

They were once again inviting her to be a speaker. Her work on mapping the genome of deadly diseases in both humans and animals was well known and taken in high regard amongst her peers. Not wanting to commit and add more things to do when her schedule was already full, the geneticist had cut the lunch short with an excuse that she had to supervise some time dependent lab experiments. 

Fighting the wind, the blond woman was cursing ever leaving work. She already lost her umbrella to the wind, and her short leather jacket was a very poor protection against the cold. 

With the Institute building in sign. She made a short jog across the street.

” Doctor Chin-Riley.” The guard at the entrance greeted her.

Una smiled politely at the guard while she removed her ID badge from her jacket pocket. Clipping it into the waistband of her trousers she walked up the stairs. At the top she pulled the big doors towards her and marveled at the feeling of entering a different world.

The dark brown exterior of an old building was replaced with long halls and tall glass ceilings. Old brick intertwined with metal and glass bridges connecting the different areas of the building’s interior. 

Dodging the main atrium’s busy traffic of co-workers and visitors to the Institute clinic and adjacent science museum, she turned into one of the side bridges. The echo of her boots marking her steps as she walked through the much more isolated area. 

The child in her couldn’t resist stopping to look at the big sign almost taking over the entire wall next to a set of elevators:

“Noonien-Singh Institute For Cultural Advancement”.

The Noonien-Singh Institute was the best research institute for genetic engineering in the world. Their work on mapping genomes and genetic manipulation had helped find the cure for many diseases. They brought back both animal and plant species from the brink of extinction.

As a child, Una Chin-Riley had a close friend who was subjected to a genetic modification that cured a debilitating disease at the Institute’s trail clinic. Ever since, Una dreamed of being part of the Institute and helping others the same way. Now, twenty years since she graduated from the Science Academy, she was an award-winning geneticist working among the best in her field. 

With a final look at the imposing sign, Una continued her walk across the bridge, idly brushing her blonde hair back into place. Her mind was already thinking about the allele she found in a genetic mapping of a family with a rare disease very similar to Cygnokemia.

When she reached the department where her office and the genetic laboratories were, the geneticist laid her hand over the biometrics security lock that would do the final check of her identity and open the doors to her work area.

Entering her office, her mind went back to the conference, if she could have something from the new allele to showcase at the panel. Absent-mindedly, Una grabbed the lab coat on the rack behind her door in exchange for her leather jacket.

Walking to her secretary on the opposite side of the room, she finally noticed the steaming cup next to her monitor. Looking around, she spotted the silent figure seated on the sofa near the window of her office.

” La’an?” Una took in the rigid posture of the younger woman, even if the deceiving way she was seated with one foot on the ground and the other firmly planted on the sofa gave the appearance of a relaxed visitor.

Through the years, the presence of the youngest member of the Noonien-Singh clan was a constant in Una’s orbit. Ever since a fifteen-year-old La’an in rollerblades ran into Una’s car while entering the institute parking lot, the two women had grown a special friendship, even meeting outside of the Institute. 

Eighteen years after that unfortunate crash, the scrawny teenager that used Una’s office table to do homework and generally just pestered Una with questions about her work and sarcastic comments grew up to be the head of security at the Institute. 

If possible, the mercurial teenager had grown into an even more serious adult. She was a woman of few words and very little patience for mistakes and rule breakers (unless she was the one bending them). 

Feared by most of the Institute’s employees because her presence meant that she was there to clean up someone's mistakes and heads would eventually roll. La’an had one exception. Almost every morning, she was seen entering the scientist’s office with a cup of coffee, a smile on her lips, and a witty comment. A rare feature that only a few, specifically Una and La’an’s older brother Manu, could bring out.

So, it wasn’t a real surprise to find her young friend in her office. Even if Una herself wasn’t there, she often used it as a refugee. A place to breathe.

Having her name being called. The security officer raised up and snatched her jacket bundled between her and the arm of the sofa and walked over to Una’s desk.

” Brought you some coffee,” La’an said pointing at the paper cup “thought you may need it with the cold outside,” she explained while she took a seat in one of the visitor chairs. She became once again silent, one arm holding her jacket securely in her lap, her other hand playing with a pencil on the wooden desk.

If Una could draw a smile from the stoic younger women, La’an could make Una’s heart swell with affection—something that the tall women decided to ignore and not delve into the true meaning behind. It was not only for the age difference, but La’an was also part of the family that owned the company she worked for—even if La’an didn’t always act like it. In fact, except for Manu, La’an always seemed to have a tense relationship with her family. 

Una could never get the reason why out of the younger woman. Every time she would mention the names of Sa’an or Ranu, La’an’s face would become as hard as stone. Walls slammed into place and La’an would awkwardly remember something she needed to do and left Una looking at an empty space. 

After she seated herself and clicked the touchpad to activate her monitor, Una studied the tightness of the posture and the frown on the younger woman’s face in front of her. La’an’s thoughts seem to be far away from there and troubling her. Something her fidgeting fingers tended to give away—a nervous habit that Una had since long ago learned to read as some conflict brewing inside her young friend.  

Picking up her reading glasses from where she had left them in her desk, Una slowly folded them in her hands thinking of the best way to approach the silent figure in front of her. The security officer always reminded the geneticist of a wild animal ready to bolt at any unwanted confrontation or touch. Reaching out, she gently laid her hand over the smaller one now messing around the pile of files on her desk. ”La’an, Is everything ok?” Una asked, squeezing the hand vibrating with tension under hers, “...La’an?” 

The dark-haired woman blinked, breaking her reverie. She looked up into the concerned blue eyes of her friend. “Yes?” 

 “I asked you if everything was okay? It seems like something is bothering you,” Una said, removing her hand and sitting back against her chair. Grabbing her glasses again, finding herself playing with them, - the thought that La’an must have picked up the fidgeting habit from her crossed her mind - dropping them next to the coffee cup, she refocused her attention to the volcano in front of her, “thanks for the coffee by the way. I was asking if you were Okay, you had your meeting with Sa’an today. Did something happen between you two?”. The “again” was left hanging in the air...

“What...no... nothing happened with mother... I’m…. I’m sorry I just remember I need to check something in Lab 23,” La’an said, almost jumping from her seat. In her haste she knocked the files on the desk, her jacket dropping to the floor. Making a brisk retrieval of the jacket, she all but ran out of the room. 

Shaking her head, the older woman came from behind her desk and reached down to pick up the scattered files, when she noticed an unfamiliar thick brown envelope among her own. Pulling the envelope free, her eyes widened when the black letters on its cover were revealed. 

Feeling her legs wobbling, she sank into her chair and put her reading glasses back on. Turning the envelope in her hands, Una broke the seal and removed the stack of papers from inside and laid it on her desk. She picked up the first page, and with trembling hands, Una gripped the first page and began to read.

The dark goal of the Institute, the real reason for their genetic research and manipulation was creating super soldiers. Worse, La’an was right in the middle of it. Una’s heart began to race; La’an was a test project herself. 

The more Una read, the bigger her horror grew. She was devastated as she learned where her work was actually going: to kill, not to save. Everything she did was to empower the powerful and not to help the ones in need, the last was a side effect of the real objective of the genetic work the Institute did. 

Holding her head between her hands, her elbows propped on the table, the now cold coffee cup mocking her as her mind turned to La’an. It brought a feeling of betrayal that La’an never once told her. She was a recipient of the genetic augmentations herself. While she was the head of security, that position existed as a ruse. The witty woman who brought her morning coffee was a soldier doing jobs for whoever paid the institute.

Una let her head fall back against her chair, removing her glasses, she feebly dropped them on the desk as she turned around to look outside through her office window.

Her thoughts going back in time, memories flashing in succession. It explained the weeks, sometimes months, that La’an went away without notice and went radio silent. She flinched as she remembered the time a much younger, shorter La’an sat in Una’s Office doing homework, with a bruised face, or a split lip. The way she was always walking in with a limp. The excuse of a fall while rollerblading had seemed plausible at the time, but how long ago had this started? 

The dimmed light outside and the growing darkness in her office were a testament of the hours that passed and with it Una's horror turned to anger. She had been used by the very Institute she’d always admired. Every principle had been betrayed. Every friendship was now suspect. One thing was certain, she needed to talk to La’an. Before she could do that, however, she needed to do something first. 

Retrieving her cellphone she dials a number.

“Chris? It’s me, Una. Can we meet?...I can leave now.” She ended the call and pulled her briefcase from the second visitor chair, where she had dropped it earlier in the day. She hastily shoved the file and a few of her possessions inside it and grabbed her leather jacket on her way out, her lab coat already carelessly thrown on her chair.  

Her long legs taking her across the Institute halls at a fast pace, she ignored her co-workers' greetings until she reached the elevator doors that would drop her at the underground parking lot where her car was. She couldn’t wait to see the Noonien-Singh Institute in the back of her rear-view mirror. 

At the gate she gave a fake smile and a goodnight to the night guard, before she pressed the accelerator of her old 62 Cadillac coupe and drove off to her meeting with her old friend Christopher Pike. While not a scientist himself, Pike and his wife Marie were the two lawyers specialized in medical and biological law related issues, who worked for another International Institute in her field of work: The Enterprise Institute for Endangered Species.

Toronto: Chris Pike’s home

Cursing Pike’s gravel road and the impact on the suspension of her classic car, Una stopped the dark blue Cadillac on the driveway of Pike’s gorgeous wooden house. 

Turning off the lights, she gripped the steering wheel and closed her eyes for a brief moment trying to collect her thoughts and wondered how much she should disclose to her friend. With a deep breath, she decided to just see the direction the conversation would take. Resolution made, she opened the door, and walked to the house, her long legs climbing the steps two by two until she reached the door and used the brass door knocker to announce her presence.

Una didn’t have to wait long before her dear friend opened his door and guided her inside the house and into the big kitchen—his most precious space.

His love for his field of work was only surpassed by his love for cooking and hosting gatherings around the big wooden table, the centerpiece in the big open space that works as diner and kitchen. When they first met, both still fresh from college, Una had asked him why he never became a professional cook. Pike’s answer was he loves cooking and friends. The two should always go together; cooking professionally would kill the joy of it.

Now seated at the big table across from her friend, a hot beverage next to her hands, Una couldn’t stop a fond smile from forming on her lips, despite the situation she was in.  

“It’s been a long while my friend, if you had the time to grow that beard.” She teased. 

Pike just gave her the impish smile of his as an answer. “You sounded rattled on the phone, did something happen?” He asked. 

“Is the offer you keep bugging me still on the table?” she inquired, pulling her mug closer, her fingers playing around its handle. A quick image of La’an doing the same flashed in her mind. She closed her eyes for a brief second, willing any thoughts of the younger woman away from her mind.

“Why now? What happened that made you change your mind?” Pike looked at her old friend with concern. “I’ve been asking you to come work for the Enterprise for years and you always were fast in saying no.”

“Something came across my desk today, that made me realize I was working on the wrong side of the field and…La’...and La’an…” Una hated how shaking the soldier's name sounded, how even the mention of the name made her voice falter. She should be angry, not heartbroken. “La’an is right in the middle of it,” Una explained while taking a sip of her coffee, as if it could wash away the bitter taste left in her mouth. “I really need that job, Chris. I need to get away from here and from that Institute.”

“The job is yours—you know it is,” Pike said while he rose from his chair and walked to the cabinet across the room. He pick up an old whiskey bottle and two glass goblets and brought them to the table. “I have a feeling that we’re going to need this for the rest of the conversation,” he exclaimed as he clicked the coffee mug out of the way and put down one of the glass in front of her and generously filled it with the light golden liquid “ now talk and explain, we have all night, Marie is away in Paris for a conference.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need this,” Una said with a tremulous laugh “Where to start…” she pondered looking down as her long finger traced a dark notch on the tabletop. Absently, she noticed that her nail polish needed a repaint, “I still can't wrap my head around all of this.”

The blond woman picked up her whiskey, cradling it between her hands. She started to describe the events of earlier, her friend a solid presence keeping her grounded in the moment.