#self experimentation

The test on Reyes had been most insightful. She’d learned from her mistakes on him. She wouldn’t have the same degenerative condition he had, forever falling apart and constantly warring with decaying nanites. She would be stable.

She took a seat in her testing chair, and with all the ease of a practiced heroin addict, she rolled up her sleeve and injected the solution into her right median cephalic vein. For a moment, barring the cold sensation of the injection, nothing happened. That was to be expected. It would take a little time for the solution to activate the genetic catalysts and–

A wave of dizziness washed over Moira, and she clutched at the arms of the chair as the room lurched unpleasantly to the left. One breath, and her body burned like liquid fire flowed through her veins. With the next breath, her skin pricked with goosebumps as though she’d been frozen. She was numb and in agony all at once, her cells responding to the catalysts within her, changing the very code of her DNA.

She tried to curl into a ball and fell to the floor, nails scraping against the linoleum. Where was she? Dublin? Oasis? Rome? Which laboratory was this? She staggered to her feet and reeled sideways, stumbling into a counter. The fluorescent lights buzzed like a thousand wasps in her ears and she clung to the countertop for support as her knees wobbled dangerously. What was happening to her? Had she been poisoned? Who would do this to her? It was her father, wasn’t it?! That horrid drunk of a man, trying to ruin her career!

Moira looked around the lab and tried to make sense of the room spinning wildly out of control. There must be an antidote somewhere! She just needed the antidote! She let go of the counter and veered into a set of shelves. Vials! Vials of drugs and other liquids. Surely one of these would be the antidote! She grabbed bottles with violently shaking fingers, trying to read labels with eyes that shifted in and out of focus.

She picked up a large brown vial only to have it pass clean through her hand and shatter to the floor. Her grip on the shelves failed as her other hand dissolved into smoke and she collapsed to the ground.

No! No, she was so close! Her research! Her ambitions! They were fading away like…like…

All at once, her mind cleared. The room stopped spinning and fell silent. Moira lay on her back, breathing hard and sprawled amid broken glass, but her body whole and intact. She lifted a hand over her eyes. It was solid.

Stable.

She concentrated, and willed the hand to fade. It vanished into smoke before her eyes, then solidified as directed by her thoughts. No pain. Not even discomfort. A perfect result.

Moira lay back and laughed.