The Sample

"Just got a new one. It's marked stat," Bob said.

Jim sighed. "Did they store it right this time? God forbid they store it right when they're in a hurry!"

"Looks like. I'll start prepping it."

"Great. I'll finish this, then get ready for that one," Jim said, and went back to setting up the ultramicroscope.

"Right," Bob replied. Jim could hear Bob moving around while he put the mouse brain in the cradle and set it in the imaging chamber. He went over to the computer, found the sample with the lens, and started the scan. Yet another mouse brain, he though with a sigh. Some days this really isn't worth it.

"Damn it!" Bob muttered. "The morons didn't write down what the sample is! Fucking government labs!"

Jim stood and went over the bench where Bob had the sample out with it's documentation. The tissue looked vaguely brain-shaped, but not like any brain, mammal, reptile or otherwise, that he's ever scanned. It had a strange iridescent cast to it, too. "Huh. Let me see the sheet."

Bob handed Jim the intake form, and everything was filled out, except for what the sample was. All it said was "Classified" in the sample description box. "Classified?" Jim said, annoyed. "We shouldn't be getting classified samples! They usually send those to Langley, don't they?"

"Yeah, but they put a rush order on it, and it's from the local office. Maybe they were worried it'd go bad before it got to DC? Or, well, given the current admin's stupidity..." Bob trailed off.

Jim sighed. "Hmm... no contact person, just an email to send the images to." He shrugged. "Let's just do it and get it to them. They've already paid the university. It's probably some genetic experiment they've got going on. Maybe some super-mouse or something that is able to ingest, oh, I don't know, heavy metals or whatever. Sometimes, I think it's best not to know."

"Yeah. No kidding. I'll set it up, then," Bob said and went to find a cradle for the sample.

Jim finished the mouse brain, while Bob puttered around the lab. Jim set the computer to compiling the images, then disposed of the sample. He cleaned and recalibrated the microscope, then said, "Ok, Bob, you ready?"

"Yeah," Bob replied and brought over the cradle. The tissue still had that iridescent cast, which was weird, and when Jim slowly lowered it into the scanning fluid, the lasers barely gave off any color.

"Huh, this sample might be a dud, Bob," Jim said. "It's not really going through. At least, not that we can see in the chamber."

"Figures," Bob sighed. "Annoying."

"Yeah, well, I'll get it going. You wanna go on break?"

Bob quickly divested himself of his lab coat. "You don't have to tell me twice!" he said and left.

Jim shook his head and began the run. He was able to align the sample, and then started the scan. As the lasers began their work, he filled in the paperwork. That's when he began to hear the music. It was faint, as if someone was blasting a radio three labs over. "What the hell?" Jim muttered.

He got up, went to the lab door and stepped into the hallway. When the lab door closed, the music went away. "Did Bob leave a music thing playing on the computer?" he wondered and walked back into the lab. The music got louder. He checked all the computers in the lab, but none of them had music program going.

Jim went back to the corner were the ultramicroscope was, and realized the music was coming from the scope, and kept getting louder. The music was vaguely Celtic-sounding, but nothing like Jim had ever heard before.

Suddenly, there was a sizzling sound coming from the imaging chamber, and when he opened it, multi-colored sparks flew out and started bouncing around the room. The music reached an unbearable level and Jim tried to cover his ears, but it was no use. Reaching for the plug, he tried to pull it, but the sparks swarmed his hand, poking him like a million tiny needles.

Jim pulled his had back, as if he had touched a hot oven, and backed against the laminar flow hood opposite from the ultramicroscope. The sparks got wilder and the music got louder, swirling around him in a cacophony of sound and light. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sound and light blotted out everything else.

Then, suddenly, it was quiet.

Jim slowly opened his eyes. The sudden silence echoed in his ears. The sparks of color were frozen mid-flight, as if they were little Christmas lights that were strung all around the room. The hum of lab equipment was gone, and the scanning timer on the computer had stopped. Jim tried to make for the door, but it felt like he was moving through molasses. No matter how close he got, his hand couldn't reach the handle.

"Oh, dear," said a high pitched voice behind him. Jim turned slowly to see a small human-like person standing on the lab bench looking into the scanning chamber. The person made a tsking sound. "Stupid government hacks, ruining a perfectly good body!"

"Uh..." was all Jim could manage, his voice sounding slow, as if he'd gotten stuck in a slow motion film. The tiny person looked up and stared at Jim for a long moment. Jim felt like they were assessing him somehow, like they could look straight into their brain.

"Oh, you're not the one that dissected me. I see. Well, nothing for it now. You've seen me, and well, that breaks all sorts of treaties and rules. You'll just have to come with me."

"Whaaaat?" Jim said slowly.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot that's how the lasers worked. Time is so annoying!" The tiny person sighed and waved their arms.

Jim stumbled forward a bit, finally able to moved again, then asked, "What do you mean I have to come with you?" He was grateful that he could talk normally again, but this was way too weird.

"Well, since you're the one who resurrected me, for lack of a better word, and not the one who dissected my old body, I owe you. But, I also can't let you run around and tell people about me. Not that they'd believe you anyway, but still. Besides, if I'm to get my revenge on the government scientists who did this to me, I need a scientist who knows their way around all this machinery." The person waved to encompass the room. "I may have infinite knowledge and wisdom, but even I can't be an expert at everything!"

"But--"

The tiny person raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to be here anyway. You don't have anything better to do, do you?"

Jim frowned. "Um. No. Not really."

"Good, then take all the papers relating to the sample, would you? Last thing we need is a paper trail."

"Uh, before we go, uh, who are you?" Jim asked, his brain finally reasserting itself.

They jumped down from the bench. "Hmmm... let's see... Who am I? Why don'g we go with Barry for the time being. It'll be easier for you."

"Ok, sure," Jim said, greatly confused.

"The bigger question is 'what am I?' but we don't have much time. Don't worry, you'll get used to the weirdness. In time." Barry smiled. "The papers, Jim."

"Right." Jim quickly gathered the papers from the desk and the box the sample came in.

"Good work, human. Now, let's get the hell out of here!" Barry grabbed a fistful of Jim's pants. The sparks swirled again, and suddenly, Jim, the tiny person, and the sample were gone. The computer sparked, and a trail of white smoke streamed out of it.

A few minutes later, Bob backed into the door, rolling in a cart of packages. "Mary brought up some more packages while I was on break and--" Bob said, then stopped. "Jim?" Not seeing the other man, he went into the walk-in fridge and freezer, but Jim wasn't in there, either. Bob then saw the smoke coming from the computer and went immediately to unplug it and the microscope. "Did he finish that weird sample?" he wondered out loud.

Bob opened the imaging chamber. The cradle was there, but the sample was gone. He frowned, pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times, then held it up to his ear. "Yeah. It's me. It happened again." There was a pause. "Well, if you stop doing it, maybe this won't happen!" He gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't care what you chuckleheads think! You're idiots for continuing this program and now I have to find another scope tech!" There was another pause. "Yeah, well, you tell him! This is definitely not my fault!" He pulled away the phone from his ear and tapped it angrily.

"Idiots," he said with a sigh, then went to his desk to write up yet another job listing.