CHAPTER ONE

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     The clicking of cold, metal surgical instruments echoes in the room, blue, translucent blood covering the gloves hands of the doctor checking over the development of the new organism.

"...Why is it blue?" She hears a quiet mumble from one of the technicians around her, two of which are helping to gently shift the organs of the creature around for a better look.

"Our blood is iron based, so it's red." Tawny states without breaking her concentration, furrowing her brows as she spots a possible abnormality, "So, if it's blue...?"

"It's copper based." Cyn pipes. "Crustatians and Octopus are copper based, for example." It's added, and she's awaiting a small smile from Tawny as confirmation she's correct.

"I'm glad someone has been paying attention." Tawny replies, the small grin falling from her face under her mask when she sees the dark colored organ. "Mr. Dovecote?" She calls to the young man peering over the body next to her.

His older sister, Clemensia, had been one of the best students at the Academy, and University alike.

She'd discovered Clemensia's baby brother was just as intelligent — though much more unsure of himself.

"Dr. Crane," He replies to her sheepishly.

"What is that?"

She moves aside slightly, allowing him to get a good look.

"Her liver." He answers correctly.

"What color should it be?"

He thinks a moment.

"Well, a healthy, iron-based liver is dark, reddish brown. Copper-based should be a pale yellow."

"Is she iron-based?"

"No, Dr. Crane."

"Which means?"

"...Her liver has somehow gotten too much iron."

It's a polite way of telling his teacher she fucked up somewhere.

"So, what do we do?" Looking at all of them, now, they act as though they're waiting for the other to answer.

"Dr. Crane?" The sliding of the glass door followed by the sweet voice of Dayla Shoemake interrupts her.

"Yes, Mrs. Shoemake?"

"Your husband is wanting to speak to you."

The words lull Tawny's eyes in a roll.

"Please, tell him I'm elbow deep in a glorified carcass and I'll be there momentarily." It comes out far more bitter than she intends, capturing the attention of her students.

"Yes, ma'am." She leaves.

"The liver is failing, so what do we do?" Tawny questions once more.

Again, no one answers. No one wants to, feeling the frustration rolling off of Dr. Crane in large waves as she finally states, "Cut our losses and pull the plug."

"Pull the plug?" Bellamy questions suddenly, furrowing her red brows, the action complimenting the downward pull of her lips. "That's a waste."

"Its failure to execute a successful mutation, Miss Von. If you'll go to the morgue and look at the dozens of subjects just like her, you'll see it's a fairly common thing that occurs here." Tawny snips, glaring at the woman. "We pull the plug, put her away and return to it when we have the time to trace back what exactly went wrong and refuse to repeat it the next trial. It's how all our successful alterations have been made. Being good at one's job doesn't mean everything we touch turns to gold. It means we waste and learn from it."

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