The Panacea Programme

Chapter Eight - Grace

"Honey, you're not getting ready for work, are you? Didn't you hear? They executed martial law. All non-emergency work was suspended for 24 hours. The official public address?" Grace stares blankly at her husband. 

"Do you ever check your phone darling?" Andrew stands in the doorway in sweatpants and slippers, holding a hot steaming cup of coffee just below his bristly chin. "Which means, we can spend the day together. Just you and I." 

He places his coffee down on the bedside table and with strong arms hoists Grace up in the air, twirling her affectionately and landing them both gently on the bed. "I see, is that so?" she laughs and plays with his beard. "Indeed, it is. And I recall a conversation where you said once you had recovered, we would start trying to have that baby. Do you remember?" He gently kisses her neck.

"No time like the present," he continues. Grace laughs, amused by the sudden display of doting and charm. Yet the cheer is short lived. "I do remember. I also remember I have extremely important and delicate samples under analysis in the lab. I can't just pause that because of some announcement. They have to be dealt with this morning Andrew." He sighs. "Grace, it's not just some announcement though, is it? It's martial law. These aren't normal times. There could be penalties if you ignore it."

"What about your assistant? What's her name again? Leakey. Can't she manage the samples? Technically she's a student right so the ban doesn't apply. She can attend on the grounds of study." 

Grace weighs the option. "True. I don't know Andrew. This is big. Potentially career defining. It wouldn't be fair to place that responsibility on the shoulders of such a young and inexperienced novice. If the samples don't get processed on time today, they'll destabilise, and half the research is pretty much lost. Imagine having to tell Leakey she didn't do it correctly and set us back by months?" Andrew kneels back disappointed on the end of their bed. Grace combs her fingers through his dark hair apologetically. "I can't afford to lose a chance like this, I'm sorry handsome. Please understand."

Andrew falls silent for a moment. "You know, I've always loved how dedicated you are to your work, and I know you're at a very critical point. So, I'll let it slide this time." He teases, acting as though he even had a say in the matter. "Just, don't forget the life you come home to after work. I miss you," he kisses her gently again. "I won't. I promise. Thank you for being supportive. I love you."

Grace looks at her watch. "Tell you what. Once I'm done at the lab I'll come straight back, and we should have the rest of the day."

"Great. I was thinking of going to the plaza for the Minister of Defence speech. See what all this fuss is about. Should we meet there?" "Eh sure, I'll message you when I'm done. I shouldn't be too long. Bye my love." "Oh, and Grace be careful getting to work. Soldiers are inspecting for essential work permits." "I'll be fine. What they don't know won't hurt them. Don't worry." Grace grabs her things, takes a large swig of Andrew's coffee rendering it near empty, and heads out the door.

The great thing about museums is when they're closed to the public, people just assume they're completely empty. Vacant. That no one is working behind the scenes, that nothing possibly transpires without the presence of the visitors to fill those grand hallways. Thus, there are few military personnel in that area, and they only patrol the front of the building as if that were the only entrance. 

Grace knows the museum like the back of her hand – namely the lower-level access points at the rear. She skirts around the side streets, keeping a low profile. Obscured by several large parked delivery trucks, she reaches her lab, undetected.

"Welcome back Grace." MEG - the inbuilt laboratory AI activates, and some light classical music begins to play in the background. "Morning MEG," replies Grace. "Good morning professor," another voice greets from amongst the machinery.