Resonance

-Where are we going?- he whispered to me. 

-We are going to run some tests.- I told him, leaning over the back of the wheelchair. 

-At two in the morning? 

-It's the time the machine is free. 

He either was okay with the answer or the empty corridors of the hospital scared him. To be fair, I was scared when I started too. One thing were the corridors of the patient wings at night, there was always noise, and nurses to talk with. However, the outpatient services wing was different. Everything was closed, and the corridors had only a third of the lights on, at most. The sound of footsteps resonated everywhere, making it look like there was an army storming the hospital, and yet, in some places all the sound became absorbed and it became eerily quiet. There were air currents, too. You had the feeling that someone could jump on you at any time, even if you knew there was no one. And I loved it. I could have taken another route to the MRI, but I liked those corridors better. At one point we had to pass next to the morgue, and knowing there were bodies behind the door always gave me a warm feeling. I could never voice those feelings, I had no one to share them, and even if I had no one would have understood. The fact was that walking through that corridor made me feel more alive than I had ever felt. I kept pushing the wheelchair energetically, mindlessly humming to myself. He was nervous, his hands clinching to the arms of the chair, his knuckles snow white. We were getting close to our destination and I could feel the static that preceded it, a static no one could feel. People would complain about the noise, but no one else felt the electricity that floated in the environment. 

We finally arrived to the MRI facility. It was waiting for us on the other side of the glass. Enormous, like a sleeping giant, a soft hum came out of it. At least that was what it seemed to me, people always complained about the terrible noise it made. No one could really appreciate it. To me the MRI was a living being, a perfect machine. He was calmer now, he had been through resonances before, he knew what was coming. I pulled out a syringe from the pocket of my labcoat. He stared at it. 

-It's some contrast to be able to see your blood vessels more clearly.  

He nodded, and pulled up the sleeve of his pajamas to allow me to have a better access to his veins. I found one that was good enough and pushed the syringe, the liquid entered his bloodstream easily. I made him stand up, the wheelchair couldn't go inside the MRI room. He lay in it, and I left him alone while I was going to the control room. It was show time. The MRI started making the usual noises it made to change the spin of the electrons, it was convenient as it blocked out his screams when the metal molecules started tearing him from the inside. It was a necessary sacrifice, the MRI needed one every once in a while. 

Unicorns

The legend has it that, in a remote group of mountains in the heart of the tropical Africa, there's a patch of land that is still unexplored. They say it's inaccessible, and that anyone who ever ventured into it, never returned. They also say that it hides marvels without pair. However, Hero was interested in something else. As a zoologist, she knew there would be plenty of unknown species thriving in the isolated ecosystem, having evolved in a complete different way. She hoped that the ecological niche was different enough from what was seen in the surrounding areas to have produced species no one could have imagined before. She had dreamt of visiting that place for ages, since she found out when she still was a graduate student. And when she finally obtained a position as PI, she knew it was time to go explore.

During the flight to Africa, she was as excited as she had ever been. Hero travelled with her team, Liz, a postdoc researcher; Harry and Anne, grad students; and Mary, a weathered technician who was used to work in suboptimal conditions. Hero had been a PI for a short time, but she fully trusted her people. Furthermore, they would have a local guide, Bamidele, who would help them navigate through the jungle. It was not the first time Hero went to Africa for research, but it was the first time she decided where she wanted to go. It was a risky mission, and some of her colleagues confessed her they would never do it, but it was a dream of a lifetime, and nothing would stop her. The tropical air hit her on the face as she left the plane, warm, humid, and full of unknown smells. It promised adventure. 

Hero's team was prepared, athletic, and used to long difficult walks, but yet no one expected the hardship they had to undergo. The tropical forest proved to be a maze with many traps, danger hiding everywhere, ranging from open sinkholes that forced them to reroute their path, to hundreds of different insects that seemed to appreciate European blood. They were lucky to have Bamidele leading them, as he was used to the harsh conditions of the rainforest. Still, sometimes there were things that escaped from his control, such as the time they came face to face with an almost vertical wall of stone, they would have needed to take a detour if it hadn't been for Harry, who was an expert rock climber. It was dangerous, but he managed it to the top, setting up ropes for the others to follow him. 

Their venture through the woods was long and exhausting. But after two weeks they reached their objective, a valley, not unlike the ones they had been walking through, opened in front of their eyes. Looking closely, it was clear that it was the crater of an extinct volcano, and a large one. The journey downhill was hard, as the terrain was sheer, vertical in parts. They opened a line that they would be using to leave as soon as they were happy with their research. The vegetation was similar to what could be seen in the rest of the rainforest, but insects were slightly larger, maybe because of the lack of predators. On the first night in the remote region, they set camp in a clearing that was still far from the bottom of the valley. The ground was irregular, and the undergrowth thick, they kept an eye out for signs of larger animals to no avail. It took them four more days to arrive to the center, and the vegetation had been growing sparser every day, which made it more difficult to find traces of animals. They had already seen several new species of insects, but Hero was convinced there had to be some kind of larger animal, either reptile or mammals. 

Sunrise brought them a surprise. As Hero was leaving the tent, she spotted something across the lake they had camped by. She silently woke up Mary, and they both looked through the binoculars. It was still quite dark, and they could only see some dark shapes, the size of goats, drinking on the shore. The lake was quite wide, so they were at a reasonable distance for the animals not to feel threatened. As the light grew brighter, they could start to define how the animals looked like. They were larger than goats, and looked a bit like horses, most of them were dark grey. There seemed to be some young animals too, judging by their size. The animals peacefully drank on the shore, and some of them lay on the grass nearby. It was clear they had no natural predators there. Hero was exultant, she had found an undiscovered mammal species. She needed to see them from close up, collect some kind of sample, maybe there would be some hair left on the grass. 

That same day they organized an expedition. Hero, Anne, and Bamidele would border the lake to try to get closer to the animals, while Liz, Mary, and Harry stayed in the camp processing samples. Hero would have preferred having Mary with her, but she was the best in sample handling, and they had lots of them to take care of. The expedition set off before sunrise, with Bamidele guiding them through the undergrowth. At sunrise they were not even halfway, and it was already late in the morning when they arrived to the field where Hero had first seen the animals. Hiding inside the jungle they stared at them, Hero's first impressions had been good. The animals were small horses, possibly evolved from zebras, they were striped dark grey, and several of them were foals. Seeing them up close, Hero realized something else. Some of them had a bone growing from their forehead, it looked a bit like the tusk from the narwhals. "They are freaking unicorns" Anne whispered. Hero almost told her off, but it was true, they were unicorns indeed. "Wait in here" Hero told them. 

Breaking all her self-imposed rules, and all the rules set up by science and survival, Hero walked towards the animals at a slow but steady pace. They didn't seem to notice her, until she was around one hundred meters from them, and still, then, they only looked at her with those wide round eyes, as if they were wondering what was that funny looking creature. She slowed down, a step at a time, getting closer and closer. One of the bigger animals approached her, she put her hands out, expecting the animal to understand that she didn't want to harm him. He bowed his head to smell her hand, allowing her to appreciate the polished beauty of his horn, making her wonder whether they would use it to settle territorial battles. The animal put his head up, looked her into the eye, and charged. 

Inside the forest, Bamidele restrained a desperate Anne who was trying to claw herself free to go save her PI. Hero was beyond saving, the unicorn had pierced her straight in the heart, and she had died almost immediately. It had been a horrible show, as he kept stabbing the dead body of the researcher once it was on the floor. As soon as the animal was satisfied, he reached for the water, made himself clean, and resumed his normal life. By then, Anne was curled up in the woods shaking from the shock, in her mind, the images replayed once and again. Bamidele stayed calm, he had seen people mauled by animals before, although never like that. He stared at the body lying next to the herd of unicorns, he would need to wait until they left to retrieve it, and it wouldn't be an easy feat. 

Shut off

Dying wasn't easy, Aino had discovered. She had been dying for some months, and no one knew about it. It had come as a surprise, she hadn't planned to die at twenty-six, but the doctors had been clear, she was dying and there was nothing they could do. And despite taking her unawares, she had embraced death easily, somehow it felt right. She had always lived by the moment, never leaving things for another day, somehow knowing that one day there wouldn't be another day to live. Aino had left the hospital in high spirits, that day. Dying meant that she could do whatever she wanted to do, it had freed her further. When the day would come, she would embrace it, celebrate the life she had lived, not the one she could have let. 

However, she knew that not everyone thought like her. And she also knew that her loved ones would suffer when she was gone. If there was one thing Aino knew was that she didn't want anyone crying because she was gone. She took a decision, and it was a hard one as she would be spending her last months alone, with no one to keep her company, with no one knowing that she was dying. She was going to shut everyone off. 

Staying away from her family was hard, but she had never told them much anyway, and she used the excuse of being busy with work as a shield, as an armour, rather. Her mother would complain on how they never saw her anymore, and she would just say it was impossible for her to leave the city. After a while the weekly phonecalls grew sparse, and with enough time they became monthly at most. Her mother would never ask her about when was she going back home, she only called to hear Aino's voice, to soothe her motherly intuition that was telling her something was very wrong with her daughter. Aino's mother was a worrier, her father not much. She could have trusted her father, she thought, but she didn't want him to carry the burden of knowing his daugther was dying and being unable to tell anyone. He would break, eventually, and it would only make it worse. 

Friends were harder still. Thanks to modern technology they were constantly in contact, talking every day, making plans, doing things together. It was not something one could shut down completely. She took the slow road and simply drifted away. Aino began replying to messages less often than she used to, keeping everything to herself, making plans on her own, finding excuses to skip their meetings. Her friends, seeing that she wasn't interested, stopped counting on her, blaming it on the normal degradation of friendships. When that happened Aino felt relieved, but also sad. She had shared so much with them, so many stories, that it felt like murder to cut them away. Yet, it was better to sever those bounds slowly than at the moment of her death. 

The hardest was Gareth. She loved Gareth more than anything. He was more than a boyfriend, more than an other-half. Gareth was as part of her as Aino was part of him. Letting go of him would be like cutting off an arm, or ripping open her chest to take off half of her heart. And she had to do it, so she made it quick. As soon as she had left the hospital, she knew what she had to do. She needed Gareth to hate her, to hate her so much that he would never want from her again. Aino needed him to live a normal life, remembering her as the cold hearted bitch who broke his heart. When it dawned to her that she would never say goodbye to him it hurt. She needed to sit down on a bench and cry. Cry not because she was dying, but because she had to let Gareth go. And the faster the better, so she actually did it on the same day. When Gareth arrived home from work, she was waiting for him with his belongings packed in his suitcases. She simply threw him out, telling him that she didn't love him anymore, that she couldn't even bear his presence. She didn't answer his questions, or listen to his pleads. Aino simply stood there, impassible until Gareth gave up and left the house. She cried her heart out after that, running out of tears, but unable to stop herself. Gareth called her a hundred times, he even went back to their flat, talking to her through the door, not using the key because he was too good to disrupt her privacy. In the end, he left too. 

Dying wasn't easy, but at least no one had had to suffer it with her, Aino thought while sprawled in the bed knowing she had mere hours left to live. 

7 facts

So, time traveler twitter friend Richard +Richard Mellinger @imasillypirate (who's actually named imasillypirate in real life, even if he denies it, and is the only person I know who actually uses Google+ for something (reason number one I linked this thing to his Google+ profile)) tagged me on this thing I'm supposed to do. And because I always do homework I'm doing it. Even though I thought I hated him when I saw it (but he told people to read my blog, so I can't completely hate him). Even though I'm not really sure about what I'm actually going to write in here.

That was like one sentence in his blog, so you are getting an idea about how this is going to be. I write a lot, like a lot a lot, and most of it is going to be nonsense.

Well, apparently there's rules and shit. So I'm going to put them in here, and you read them, and I'll do whatever I want because that's how I roll (I was going to insert a joke here, but I only know it in Spanish and it doesn't have a translation (know what... fuck it "huye haciendo la croqueta")).

So, rules:

“This blog hop is designed to show our readers a more personal side to ourselves. We’ve been challenged by another author/ blogger (somewhat like the ‘ice bucket’ challenge) to list seven interesting facts to help cast light onto that tough writer’s/blogger’s persona we all like to project. But we want to show that behind every story is a story, our story, my story, and like everyone else I have dreams, hobbies, problems and goals. This blog hop is a way to share some of them with you, my readers.

The rules are that I share 7 Lovely Facts about myself, and links to at least 15 blogs that I enjoy reading. If I’ve nominated your blog (see names below) please don’t feel any obligation to join in but, if you do, please link back to the blog of the person who nominated you…share facts about yourself and nominate 15 blogs (or as many as you can).”

Have you read them for me? Good, now forget about them and let me do my thing (writing nonsense).

As I said I first hated our silly pirate for having nominated me. Because these things usually suck. And you should agree because I'm always right. But then I read it and I thought it was sweet, and WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME I AM SAYING SOMETHING IS SWEET, WHERE'S MY BLOODLUST? Seriously, though, you should check his post. Have you? Have you? What the hell, seriously? Go check it.

Because Richard is a time traveler from the past, and, thus, a gentleman, he apologized for writing two posts in a week. Because I just finished the "A Story A Day" thing, I'm not apologizing for anything, because people you had a freaking post every freaking day for a freaking year, I don't need to give explanations.

So, after all this ranting let's start with this:

7 facts about me

1. Despite being born in Spain, I couldn't speak Spanish until I was around 9.
I spent all my childhood speaking only Catalan. Once, when in Sevilla with my family (I think I was 4 or something like that), I ran to my mum telling her that "that man spoke weirdly" after a waiter spoke to me in Spanish. I've made up for it and now I speak a decent Spanish. Also English (you'd have never guessed), and some French. And I've been trying to learn Icelandic for years, but I never have time, and it's sad because I'm really good at languages.

2. I'm stubborn, but flicker at the same time.
Once I decide to do something I either do it passionately or give up completely. See exhibit #1, or how I wake up at 5:30 am every weekday to go to the gym. Also, how I'm able to gorge down a full bar of chocolate in half an hour as soon as I open it, because I commit at eating chocolate.

3. I hate coffee.
I can't even stand the smell. I have had coffee ONCE in my lifetime, because I was at a conference and I was falling asleep. I forcefully made a latte enter my stomach, and I was rewarded with a terrible taste and more sleep. That was when I discovered caffeine doesn't do anything for me, as I've been known to drink a RedBull and be able to go straight to sleep.

4. I have a high tolerance for cold.
I've not always been like this, but I'm known for wearing sandals from March to December, shorts from March to October, and tank tops all year long. Also for needing to take out my lab coat while standing in front of an open -80ºC freezer because it was too hot. If I were given one euro for every time I have been asked if I'm not cold, I'd be RICH. Too bad this doesn't work like that. WHY DOESN'T IT WORK LIKE THIS?

5. I do science for a living.
Since, apparently I don't like to eat (that's false, and I'll never say enough how much do I love to eat), I'm doing the two "professions" that are more likely to starve you to death: science and writing. I studied biology because I've always loved it (when I was a kid, first I wanted to be a queen, and then I wanted to become a veterinarian or a zoologist), after that I did an MSc in Pharmaceutical Industry, because you never know, and then I started a PhD in Biomedicine. My field of study are Down syndrome, Fragile X syndrome, and Alzheimer disease. And I love my job, by the way, you can find information on the actual project I am working on in here. I'm sorry, I don't have a cool video like Richard had, but no one has ever recorded me giving a talk, it would be funny, though. However, if you're a fellow neuroscientist you may catch me at some meeting (I've been to SfN meetings twice), and you can come check my posters, I swear I'm such a good presenter that people ask me whether I'm a postdoc (please, don't let it be because I look old).

6. I curse a lot.
You might have spotted some cursing scattered around this post, that's actually nothing. I've used four curse words in a five-word sentence more than once. My mother has already given up on trying to get me to talk like a lady. Also, I'm not a girly girl, so she should have given up much earlier.

7. I think out loud a lot. In English.
My brain is broken, and it started thinking in English some years ago, I can't exactly remember when. And since then I do talk to myself out loud in English, and think in English. Like, seriously, it is fucked up, it's not even my first language, and there I go making lists and shit in English because I can't remember the words in my own language. And, also, picture this: a person walking down the street having a heated argument with themselves in a language it's not their own. I'm surprised they haven't had me institutionalized yet.

So that's it. Now I'm supposed to tag some people, and I have to admit I'm a really bad friend and I don't read my friend's blogs, and actually I don't even know who has a blog, so I'm going to tag some of the people I know does both and hope for the best. I can already tell you that FOR SURE, their blogs are going to be less of a chaos than mine (but I love entropy).

1) Becky +B. A. Wilson @BAWilsonWrites

2) Ellen @EllenMandeville

3) Jason @CantrellJason

4) Emmy @emmyshine

5) Victoria @vdavenportwrite

I managed five. And I can tell you their blogs are awesome. And look much more polished than mine. And they all proof read their posts before posting them, unlike me.

Guys, sorry for tagging you, but you're free to do it or not. (If you do let me know, I'm curious).

A Story A Day. Story 365 of 365: Best (Part XXXV).

Eirian hadn't lied when she said those burgers were good, Ismene had to restrain herself from clapping when hers arrived. The bread was homemade, as was the patty itself which was about an inch and a half thick, the cheese was melted to the exact point, the tomato was the reddest she had seen, the bacon was crisp, and sauce oozed lustfully from between layers. Ismene stared at it unbelieving before taking the first bite. It tasted even better than it looked. She swallowed the first bite and drank some of the Belgian beer she had ordered.

-Why hadn't you told me about this place before?- she asked to her friend.

-A girl doesn't give away her secrets so easily.- Eirian teased her.

Ismene had a look at the place, it was packed with people, most of them basically drinking beer, and watching sports. It had the feeling of an old pub, with darkened wood everywhere. Eirian explained Ismene that the owner was Irish, and that she decided to make it to the image of the pubs in her homeland. There was even live music, although that wasn't too rare being next to the river as they were. Apparently the owner was also a very keen horticulturist and grew her own vegetables. That would explain the perfectly ripe tomatoes. Ismene didn't speak again until she had finished eating her burger.

-This was SO good.

-See? And you were complaining about going to eat burgers in fancy dresses.

-I will never doubt about your decisions ever again.- Ismene swore.

-Cheers to that.- Eirian said raising her beer.

They stayed there for some more time, drinking a second beer after they were done with dinner. It reminded Ismene of the time she went with her friends on a trip around Europe when she was barely eighteen, she had drank some of that beer in Belgium. It had been so easy to travel when she was in Europe that she almost didn't value it, not truly, not until she was far away from there. She explained Eirian her adventures traveling around the Old Continent, motivated by the melancholia the imported beer had given her. However, melancholia fade away quickly and was replaced by laughter.

-Let's get moving.- Eirian told her friend after they had paid their bill.

-Where now?

-We are going dancing!

Eirian took her to a club that seemed to be directly under the old city walls. The place looked edgy, and as with the pub it was crowded. The music was loud, and Eirian told Ismene, shouting, that it was the best place in town to go out. At least the music selection was good, blasting rock mainly. They left their handbags in the coat check and hit the dance floor. From time to time they commented on one or another guy, with Ismene encouraging Eirian to go talk to some of them. However, her friend wasn't interested on any of the potential suitors, she said they weren't edgy enough to make her mother horrified. That didn't prevent her of dancing with some of them, however, they had gone out to have fun, in the end. At one point, someone started dancing behind Ismene, getting too close for her own comfort. When she turned around to confront him, she met Leo face to face.

-This is a pleasant surprise.- he said before kissing her.

-Indeed it is.- Ismene replied.- How come you're here?

-I came with the boys.- he said pointing to a group of young men next to the bar.- We always say we are going to go out after our turn, but we never do. Good thing we did tonight, though. What about you?

-I came here with Eirian.- she looked around to find her dancing on her own.- Come, you should meet her.

The blonde girl saw them before they had even started walking towards her, and went to meet them swiftly.

-Leo, this is Eirian, she is the labmate I've told you about. Eirian, well you already know.

-Nice to meet you Leo. I've heard a lot about you, not as much as I would've liked to, though.

-I can imagine that.- he laughed.

-So, have you come check out on Ismene? Make sure she doesn't run away?- Eirian eyed him suspiciously.

-No! I've come with my workmates.

-Workmates as in firefighters?- Ismene couldn't help but laugh at that.

-Yes,...

-Oh, will you be nice and introduce them to me?

Leo looked at Ismene dubitatibely, who shrugged her shoulders amused, and urged him to go on. She knew Eirian and once she had an idea it was very difficult to make her desist of it. Leo lead the way, with both girls trailing him.

A Story A Day: The End.

This is the end of the road. A year ago, while I was in Mexico, I made the New Year resolution of writing a story every day, or as it turned out to be named "A Story A Day" (because I'm very original naming things, apparently). I've been posting a story every day on this blog, you can find the whole chronological compilation here, if you're inclined on reading that much. It has been a bumpy road, there were times I hated myself for doing that, there were days I was forcing myself to write, not even knowing where to go, some other times I reached out for help on Twitter, other times real life was enough inspiration to me (you'll get extra points if you're able to tell which ones are inspired on real events), other times I've had good friends give me ideas for them. I've written stories I am really proud about, I have also written really bad ones. There was even one week when I simply wrote stories that went from one word to seven because I was uninspired. There have been stories that turned out longer than I intended and were split in more than one part, because the story demanded it. There have been really short but sharp stories, there have been stories where nothing really happened, and stories where I just felt the need to hurt and kill as many characters as possible (this is probably one of my favorite things to do). There have been thematic series such as the Seven Deadly Sins (I'm really proud of that one), the Stages of Grief, Phobia, or Halloween. There has been love, there has been death, there has been pain, there has been a bit of everything and not much of anything.

I want to think that writing this much has helped me be a better writer, yet I don't really know if that's true. It has surely taught me that once you have the habit you can write every day, but also, that it never gets easy. It has also been an escape valve, allowing me to pour all my frustrations and problems in my writing, which in turn, I think, has let me to be able to know myself better. And there's one thing I've discovered along the way, I need to write as some people need to breathe. I am not very good at voicing feelings out loud, so being able to write about them, fictionalize them, has helped me a lot, and I know it will keep doing for as long as I am able to write.

The question now is, probably, what's next? Will I take a break from writing? Will I finally be institutionalized as I should have when I mentioned my intention of doing this? Now that I think of it, it would probably be a good idea. But, actually, what's next is finishing this developing story that I started on December the 1st, and that I had intended to be three parts long, at most, however my brain had different plans for it (FYI, my brain is a jerk) and it is as I type more then 29k words long. I don't know where it will end up, and I can tell you that writing such a long story was not in my life schedule, but the working title for this WIP is "Best" which I guess it will possibly change, although I feel quite comfortable with it. Whether it ends up being a novella or a full blown novel, only time will tell, what I know is that it needs LOTS of revision. Furthermore, I have a finished novel, "Dream On", I need to finish revising (I think I have 100 pages left or so) and find a place where I can publish it or something (in case anyone actually wants to read it).

As you can see there's still lots of work to do. This final paragraph is simply to thank anyone who has read the stories or inspired me in any way. It's nice to know there is people out there who care about what you do.

A Story A Day. Story 364 of 365: Best (Part XXXIV).

The following day, Ismene woke up more than one hour earlier than she was supposed to. She hadn't been dreaming, nor was she sleeping bad, she simply woke up and didn't feel like she needed to go back to sleep. Seeing that if she stayed in bed, she would stay awake, she decided to stay her day early. Her running clothes were laid off and her bag packed, so she only needed to dress up, have some breakfast, grab her lunch from the fridge and go to work. As usual, when she arrived that early, there was no one at the lab. If she needed to wait, she would do something out of the waiting, the notes she had taken the day before were lying on the table, she had a look at them and put some of the ideas in order. Eirian found her like that, with the notes having taking hold of the whole desk, and Ismene scribbling thoughts away on a new sheet of paper while frantically searching for bibliography on PubMed.

-So, you're oficially crazy, aren't you?- she didn't wait for her to answer.- How long have you been here?

-Mmmmm about an hour or so?- Ismene replied after glancing at her wrist watch.

-And you managed to generate all this mess in one hour? I'm impressed.- the blond girl leaned on the door frame.

-Shut up. As if you were the same image of order! Come on, let's go I have a meeting with Roger in one hour and forty minutes.

-I'll end up getting jealous if you keep meeting with him so often, remember, he's my man.- she said jokingly before her friend sprinted to the door.

They both almost ran over Nathan who was just arriving. They half apologized continuing their race, while the young man promised to kill them both as soon as they were back. They ran fast, laughing and enjoying the mild weather. When they arrived back to the lab building, breathless and sweaty, they both felt full of energy. Ismene stopped a second by the kitchen to have a snack before getting in the shower, she needed to hurry up for her meeting with Roger. In the end she had only enough time left to grab the notes from her desk and run to his office. Dr. Shannon was pleased to see she had been doing some thinking, after all if they landed the grant Ismene would be able to stay for one more year.

With that project in hands Ismene was busy for the rest of the week, and didn't even finish it. Work made her forget about everything else, so when Eirian asked her whether she was ready for the evening, she stared blankly at her for a solid minute before she remembered what her friend was talking about.

-This evening,... sure, sure. I'm ready, where are we meeting?

-You had forgotten about it, hadn't you?

-A bit.- Ismene admitted guiltily.- I was actually planning to work for the whole afternoon, and into the night.

-I hate you. Anyway, you better get your ass home early, because we're going to burn the fucking city down!

She blew a kiss to her friend and left. Ismene went back to her work, she wanted to do as much as she could before leaving. At 5pm Eirian sent her a message asking whether she was still in the lab, and prompting her to go home, also to meet her at the stone bridge at 8. If she wanted to have time to get ready, she would need to leave, although she could have well kept working until that time. She decided to take some work home and try to find a moment during the weekend to continue with it.

In the end, Ismene arrived five minutes late to the meeting point, and Eirian was already waiting for her. She really meant it when she said that they were going to burn the place down. Her blond hair flowed down her shoulders, actually brushed and combed, and she was wearing a little black dress that enhanced all her attributes.

-Wow. Just wow.

-Tsss, what did you think? I know how to dress up, even if I don't usually do it. Too much work.

-Better, I don't think I could restrain myself seeing you like this every day.- Eirian punched her softly, before leading the way.- I figured you'd be hungry, so our first stop is this place where they make killer hamburgers and have imported beers.

-So we are all dressed up to go eat burgers?- Ismene teased her.

-Don't pretend you don't want one. I've seen you eat. Your stomach is like a black hole.

A Story A Day. Story 363 of 365: Best (Part XXXIII).

It was past six in the afternoon, and Ismene was still working in the basement, the lab phone rang, and startled her. She was taking out the CPU, so she hurriedly put it on a work bench and picked it up.

-Hello?- it was the first time she had heard that phone ringing, she almost had trouble locating it.

-Ismene?

-Dr... Roger. Hi.

-Eirian told me you would be down here. You shouldn't stay there too long, one loses perception of time. It has happened to me before. Once I left on the verge of midnight, when I finally got home my wife wanted to kill me.

-You wanted to talk to me?- Ismene took him back to the topic.

-Yes. Would you mind coming to my office? I'll make you some tea so it's ready when you come.

-Sure, I'll be there in a second.

Ismene put some order around the workbench, leaving the screwdrivers and all the tools she had been using on a box, and trying to make sure nothing stood on the way of anyone wanting to work in the lab, she wouldn't be going back until the following week, after all. Before leaving, she took a second look to make sure everything was in its place. She was leaving the notebooks and blueprints behind on a pile on her assigned desk down there, so she didn't need to carry them around all the time. She took the elevator and went to Roger's office. As promised, he was waiting for her with some freshly brewed tea.

-Sit down, Ismene. How are you doing?

-Pretty well, thank you.- she said taking the cup of tea he was handing her.- I've already told you, but I completely love this job.

Roger smiled.

-I can see that, and you're making very good progress on everything. I wanted to talk to you because we need to ask for funds, so we need to write a project. I want you to write it.

-What is it going to be it about?

-It's actually quite related to your PhD dissertation, I had the idea while reading it, actually. I think we should collaborate with your thesis director, or at least inform her of what we are planning to do. And since it was your project I want you to take the lead on it.

-So, are you going to explain me this idea or not?

Roger started telling her his idea, and before they realized the sun had already set and they still had a thousand things to discuss.

-I think we should both go home, and resume the discussion tomorrow in the morning. At what time will you arrive?- he asked opening his agenda.

-I'll be here at 8, but I was going to go with Eirian for a run. I can skip it, though, if the timing suits you better.

-Nonsense, go for your run and I'll be here. We could meet at 9.30, let's say?

-Sure. I'll be here at 9.30.

Ismene left Roger's office to go pick her things in her office. There was no one left in her office, not even Eirian. She switched off her computer that was on stand-by, and turned off the light. The empty lab had a ghostly feeling. The campus was also empty, and apparently she was lucky enough to catch the last bus back to the city. She switched her mobile phone on, after she had switched it off before entering Roger's office, and it buzzed almost immediately. Leo had sent her a message asking her if she had already signed in for the competition, she had completely forgotten about it. She replied telling him that, and he texted her back immediately telling her to do it as soon as possible, and asking her whether she was free during the weekend. She felt guilty after answering that no, that she had stuff to do. For a split second she considered telling him to join her and Eirian on Friday, but she had promised her friend her undivided attention, and she liked to keep her promises. He send her a sad smiley, and told her to book the weekend of a fortnight from then for him. She smiled widely, like an idiot, was she falling in love?

A Story A Day. Story 362 of 365: Best (Part XXXII).

Ismene picked up the phone, reluctantly, a call from Frode was the last thing she needed at that moment.

-Hi!- she tried to sound cheerful. 

-Good afternoon, Ismene.- she would never get used to his voice, not even if she heard it one thousand times. Never. It always made her knees weak, and her heart jump.- How are you? 

-Good, at work, and you? 

-Taking profit of a slow hour at the shop to call you. Am I bothering you?- Ismene considered telling him she was busy to gain some more time, but she was the one who had chosen that life and she would need to keep on with it. 

-No, not really, I can stop for a second. 

-Good. 

Ismene could almost imagine him, sitting on the chair outside his bookstore, his stare lost at the park across the street, holding the phone with his right hand, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up almost to his elbows. If she had been on the street at that moment, she would have sit down at the other side of the table and picked up one of his books, maybe he had some of his cookies out too, or maybe he had brewed some coffee. For a split second she would have swore she was able to smell coffee in the asceptic environment of the lab. 

-Ismene?- when he called her name it was as if something inside her were hit with a hammer, making all of her resonate.- Are you sure it is a good time? 

-Yes, don't worry. 

-Did you enjoy your morning by the river? I hope I wasn't inopportune, but I really needed to talk to you, and I didn't feel it was adequate to call you to tell you that.- he was so polite, a bit too much, maybe. Ismene had gotten used to Leo's attitude of simply taking what he wanted, and Frode's struck her as too shy. 

-It was alright.- Of course, she couldn't tell him that she hid in her house after meeting him for fear of meeting him again. 

-I'm glad to hear.- something in his voice showed that there was something else he had wanted to say, Ismene let it slip.- I'm actually calling you to ask if you'd mind coming to a small party I'm organizing at the bookstore, on Saturday? There's going to be some of my best customers, home-made food, wine, and books, lots of books. I'll also make a tour of the hidden corners of the bookstore. I'm asking everyone to bring something to eat or drink, but if you feel you won't have time to cook anything tell me, and I'll take it into account. 

-Oh! I'll love to! Of course I'll come!- one of her childhood dreams was to spend the night at a bookstore, and she would get to.- I still don't know if I'll be able to cook anything, but I'll try to. I make a killer musaka, and actually that's basically all I can cook. I'll call you later during the week to let you know if I have had time to cook, though. 

-Brilliant. I'll look forward to Saturday. 

-Me too. See you on Saturday. 

Ismene was on cloud nine, she would have a bookstore all to herself, for sure there would be more people, but for all that mattered she would be basically alone. Maybe she would be able to sneak away and enjoy some privacy with the books. The though made her giggle. She was known to enter in a state of rapture every time she was at a bookstore or a library. It was like falling in love, actually it was more than falling in love. No one could understand it, until she started comparing it to meeting someone's favorite celebrity. It was a biased comparison, of course, everyone knew that books are better than people. 

She forced herself back to work. The internal mechanisms of the Recombinator were all in plain sight. There was an ultrafast sequencer nested in it, which fed a computer that compared the two samples between them and against the BLAST database. A screen allowed the user to select the polymorphisms they were interested in, of course, unannoted polymorphisms were hard to work, as well as polygenic characteristics and phenotypes with unknown genes, or polymorphims out of coding regions. Fortunately there were less and less of those thanks to the advances in the fields of genomics. Ismene had read the lab notebooks of when the project had started around ten years earlier, and couldn't believe how far it had gone, and the conditions they worked on. The rest of the machine was where novelty resided, it also took most of the space. Technically speaking, what the recombinator did was create genetically modified organisms, there had been many ways to do so in history, sometimes the genes were forced into the organism through gold particles, other times taking profit of the organism biology through plasmids, in the case of higher organisms it was through transfection in cells and in embrionic cells. It usually involved generating a new organism, without the possibility of altering genes in an adult one, until the wake of gene therapy, but again, that only allowed to change a gene or subset of them, in a specific tissue. However, the Recombinator was able to exchange selected genes from one organism to the other, the one she was taking a look at was only able to do it in unicellular organisms, the other versions had moved up in the multicellularity scale, although at first they had had problems with getting it done in all the cells in the organism. It had been fixed, eventually, allowing a huge leap forward on the technology. They had already started working in invertebrates, and the next step was vertebrates. However, what Ismene was more interested in was the automatic selection of the genes, providing the computer with the information and the capacity to select the fittest characteristics once it was given the instructions of what would be the expected outcome. It would allow the researcher to skip the gene selection step. Ismene took out the sequencer, admiring that piece of technology, despite it being outdated, it was much better than the equipment some labs had, and yet, she knew that the one that was fitted on the latest model of the Recombinator was, at least, ten times faster.