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  Chapter 3—Accidental Push

  The rest of Rooke Pharmaceutical’s bottom floor held similar labs. Lab technicians passed in and out of rooms, some stopping to wave at the group, as Peter excitedly detailed each and every kind of ongoing research in the rooms. Lydia was so overwhelmed by all the different parts of the body that he ticked off that she expected there to even be an area researching the possibilities of what fingers could achieve. But she’d gotten enough good shots that she believed would satisfy the newspaper. Some of the employees were kind enough to pose for the photographs. Many were camera-shy and busied themselves with their work.

  There had been no mention of fingers when they arrived at the stairs at last. Lydia was already drained from listening to Peter and from traversing the lengthy hallway. But the group pushed her forward and up the stairs.

  “This guy’s cheerfulness is grating on my nerves,” Mark said, huffing and puffing while he climbed the spiral staircase.

  “Well, I’ll be!” Dariela said in mock surprise. “We actually agree on something for once!”

  “Maybe we’ll get a break soon,” Lydia suggested, suppressing a yawn. There was a clock on the ground floor that told her an hour had already passed. One more to go until noon, she told herself.

  “Sorry about this, everyone, but the elevators at the ends of these halls are on the fritz,” Peter explained as they climbed. He’d already bounded to the top and stood bent over, patting his knees and urging them on. “Come along, then! There’s so much to see!”

  The second floor was vastly different from the first. The rooms were smaller, more contained, and held normal wooden doors and brick walls rather than thick glass. There were many offices, each one holding a plate showing a name, followed by an impressive degree.

  “As you may have noticed, this is where our offices are located. Some very prestigious names are here. You may recognize some of them,” Peter said, taking the opportunity to show off another level of his company knowledge. “Here’s one.” He paused by a door, holding his hand underneath the name on it. “One of our most esteemed researchers, Dr. Kirby Jenkins, is in charge of a fantastic team here at Rooke Pharmaceuticals. He has brought his renowned research on genetic mutation to us. One of our many leaders, paving the way toward a brighter future holding wondrous possibilities.” He led them along the hallway.

  “Speaking of fascinating possibilities, here’s one for all of you now,” he said, spinning around toward them and halting at a door. To Lydia, it was an ordinary polished door, like the dozens they had already passed. Peter opened it, ushering them into a small, compact laboratory, where a beaming woman met the class.

  “Why, hello there,” she greeted them. “You must be the Carver High School group, right?” A few of the students nodded and she clapped her hands together. “Welcome, then. Have you already told them what we do here, Peter?”

  “No, Dr. Hillen,” he said, retreating to the back of the room and taking an observatory stance. “I thought I’d leave that to you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, turning to face the students. She was much calmer than the younger tour guide, but appeared no less enthused by their visit. Lydia already preferred her to Peter.

  “Here, we,” she began, pointing to herself and the two other employees standing to the side, who nodded and smiled at the group, “experiment with controlling cell mutation. Hopefully, isolating and preventing incidents like unnatural cell growth and division.”

  “Isn’t that cancer?” Lydia asked. Hushed murmurs bounded throughout the group, and nervous looks were directed at the equipment on display. The group stayed away from the microscope slip covers in particular, already stained with samples and nestled in boxes on one table.

  “Yes, it is,” Hillen said. “But all of these samples are long dead, and they were benign mutations that caused no harm to begin with. We don’t work with live samples, or cancerous ones, in this room. So there is no danger.” She pointed to a microscope on the nearby table. “Without touching the microscopes themselves, you may take a look at the samples.”

  Despite the room’s size, there were many tables crammed into it, and plenty of microscopes already set up with varying slides. Lydia approached one, along with Dariela and Mark. Her slide was a mass of dark and light blobs of colors. She couldn’t decipher the muscle cells that Hillen told her she was looking at. Still, Lydia tried her best as technicians walked around, answering questions and describing what the different slides featured.

  “I can’t see anything,” Lydia finally whispered to Dariela. “Dar! What do you see? All I got is red and white splotches.”

  “Well, I have some blue here,” Dariela said, checking again for any cells. In three seconds she gave up trying the find them and lifted her head from the microscope. “We could make a flag.”

  “All this reminds me of is burned camera film,” Lydia said. “I thought we’d get to see something more exciting than this.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Mark hissed, his whining tone prevalent. “At least we don’t have to do those stupid worksheets on what we see, and describe what the functions of these cells are.”

  At that moment, Retter strode by their stations, a stack of papers in hand. She placed one paper beside each student. Lydia picked it up, her eyes reading the bold printed directions at the top, instructing her to describe what parts of the cell she could see, those that she couldn’t, and to explain the function of each one.

  She looked up to find Dariela already casting a dirty look at Mark. Lydia joined in, causing him to shrink away from the two girls. “You had to open your big mouth, didn’t you?” Lydia spat out.

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