It made some soft whirring sounds, and thirty seconds later, it spit out a finished ID card, complete with picture and thumbprint. Dr Anderson examined it, pronounced it good, and decorated it with an MIT lanyard as she handed it over. 'Wear it around your neck,' she said. 'No tying it on your belt, or backpack, or wearing it as a headband, and trust me, I've seen students try to do all those things. If it's not in the right place, you'll get a visit from security, and you really don't want that. Where we're going, security's very, very serious.' Dr Anderson, Claire saw, was already wearing her own ID. It looked identical, except for the photo. 'If you cut your hair or dye it, or your physical profile changes at all, you get new ID. It has all kinds of data encoded in it. Sounds Orwellian, right? It is. Get used to it.'
Claire scrambled to follow as Dr Anderson shucked her lab coat, tossed it on a hook, and led the way out of the office and down the long hallway to a sealed door with an electronic pass reader on it. Anderson buzzed in, but when Claire started to follow her through, the other woman stopped her. 'Use your card after me,' she said. 'If you come through without swiping, alarms will go off. Like I said. Secure.'
Claire nodded, and let the door shut before she ran her own badge and got a green light to enter. She slipped the lanyard back over her head and stepped through into a very different world.
This part of the building looked new, shiny, and sterile. It was bustling with activity - grad students, professors, people in suits who looked like official government types, or maybe private industry. It was often groups composed of all of those, huddled together, walking and talking. She caught snatches of conversations about genetics, about drug therapies, about nanotech, and that was all in only a two-minute brisk walk. Dr Anderson exchanged nods with most of them, but there was no small talk.
Dr Anderson's lab was marked with a simple white card in the slot that said RESTRICTED. Nothing else on the card ... but when Claire moved to the side a little to allow Anderson to swipe through, she saw that there was something else on the paper, after all. The Founder's logo had been printed on it holographically, so it was only visible from certain angles.
The door made a soft sighing sound as it opened, and a puff of cool air that smelt like metal and chemicals washed over Claire. Dr Anderson shut it behind her, and Claire badged through. She didn't need to be told twice about the security measures.
Inside it was ... well, Myrnin's lab, only sane, orderly, and clean. But she recognised a lot of what was going on at each of the worktables, though instead of using Dark Ages alchemical techniques, Dr Anderson had modern chemistry set-ups and state-of-the-art instruments and computers. It was like p**n , but for science geeks. 'Wow,' Claire breathed, and ran her fingers tentatively over a brushed-steel worktable, not quite daring to get her fingerprints on any of the blindingly cool equipment yet. 'You're-'
'Well funded? Yes. Amelie wanted to establish another, less chaotic method of research to validate and record Myrnin's discoveries. You know him; he's brilliant, and he's the living embodiment of chaos theory. So my job is to find out why his discoveries work, document and make them easily reproducible with modern equipment and techniques. And now that's your job, too.'
'I was already doing that. Trying to, anyway. When he'd let me.'
Dr Anderson sent her a warm, knowing smile. 'Yeah, I know how that goes. Working for Myrnin means being zookeeper, nanny and best friend. Trouble is, knowing when each of those things is necessary, because making a mistake means you become a Happy Meal. Badge of honour for you to have survived the experience, Claire. And for getting the hell out of Morganville. Bet you think the worst is over, right?'
Claire shuddered, thinking about the draug, and Bishop, about the thousand life-threatening moments she'd made it through since coming to town. 'Hopefully,' she said.
'You're wrong,' Dr Anderson said. She sounded certain, and sober. 'You live there, at that level, it's like living inside a video game. Surviving is a high, an achievement. Then you come out here into the real world, and the PTSD starts to set in ... because nobody cares what you went through, or that you survived it, and your body's used to a constant adrenaline pump. It's like coming off a drug. If it hasn't hit you yet, it will ... normal life takes a lot of getting used to, Claire. But if you need to talk to someone, well, I've been through it. What's the biggest thing you're missing so far?'
'Shane,' Claire said. Her throat got tight and raw, and for a moment she couldn't go on. 'My boyfriend.'
'Ah,' Anderson said. Nothing else. Her eyebrows went up, but she didn't ask anything, and after she'd waited a moment she got the idea Claire wasn't going to tell, either. 'Let me give you the tour, then. I assume you're familiar with Myrnin's dimensional portals? Did he teach you how to operate them?'
From there, the hours passed fast, full of technical discussions and equations, lightning-fast chains of thought as each of them built on the other's ideas and work. By noon, they had a working mathematical expression of how the portals worked, and Claire matched it up against the work she'd done with Myrnin on the same thing.
Dr Anderson's final version was better, cleaner and covered more theoretical ground.
The afternoon was spent learning equipment, most of which Claire had never seen, though some of it she'd heard about. Most fascinating was a genetic sequencer hard at work cracking the code of vampire DNA. 'It's deceptively human,' Dr Anderson said. 'Tough to tell the difference, because there's really very little to find. It's almost as if the DNA was only part of the equation for how vampires change - it's not just a physical process. And I don't have any equipment that can capture something that only happens on the spiritual plane, at least, not yet.'
'I might,' Claire said. She felt tentative about it, and a little overwhelmed by what Dr Anderson was doing in this very sparkly lab; who was she to pretend to be an inventor? It didn't feel nearly as weird when she was with Myrnin; everything seemed possible.
Here, she felt very ... young. And inexperienced.
But she had Dr Anderson's undivided attention. 'Go on.'
'I ... I thought that since Myrnin had made machines that interacted with vampire powers, then it might be possible to make another machine to cancel them.'
There was a long, strange silence, and Claire felt herself growing hot and uncomfortable under Anderson's steady stare. Then her professor said, very carefully, 'Do you have such a device?'
'Maybe? I mean, I know it can amplify vampire emotions. I think if I can use it in reverse, it could make them afraid instead of angry, cancel out their aggression and hunger ... It's all really just a guess right now.'
'But you built it.'
'I have a prototype.'
'Where?'
Dr Anderson was taking this way more seriously than Claire had ever expected. Even Myrnin hadn't seemed so impressed. 'It's packed, they're delivering it with all my stuff this week.'
'You shipped it?'
'I thought it might be hard to get it through security at the airport.'
'Ah. Excellent point. But you really thought it was safer to trust it to a moving company? Do the vampires know you have this device?'
'Myrnin does.'
'And has he told Amelie?'
'I don't know,' Claire said. She felt more than a little off balance, as if she had done something bad but she wasn't sure what exactly it was. 'Shouldn't he have?'
'If he thinks you're worth keeping alive, he won't,' Dr Anderson said. She had a remote, calculating look in her blue eyes, suddenly, and it was chilling. 'The last thing Amelie would want is a device like that, capable of giving humans a way to control vampires. When is this device scheduled to arrive here?'
'Um, tomorrow, I think. They're just supposed to put the boxes in my bedroom if I'm out.'
'Don't be out,' Anderson said. 'Be home. Check the box you put it in before they leave, and then call me as soon as you're alone and I will arrange for an escort. I want this device of yours put in the secured area as soon as possible, just in case it works as you say. Vampires don't like us developing new weapons against them, Claire. I've seen others end up dead for simply talking about one, and you've actually made one. This is something that Amelie can't, and won't, ignore. I'm really surprised that Myrnin allowed this at all, and even more surprised that he hasn't told Amelie about it.'
Claire thought, with a sudden burst of cold inside, about what had happened to Shane's family when they'd left Morganville. Amelie had been dead set on keeping her secrets, and when Shane's mother had begun remembering too much, talking too much, she'd ended up dead. It was pure luck that Shane and his father hadn't died, too.