Dr. Vella Memoris's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The hybrid's gills stopped fluttering. Vella froze mid-reach, her hand halfway to the enclosure controls. She'd been counting seconds between each movement, tracking the pattern of decline. But the rhythm had changed. The specimen's lateral fins were holding position now instead of drifting. She checked the monitor. Oxygen uptake had stabilized. She had maybe two minutes before security arrived. The reinforced cage sat in the corner, large enough to hold the specimen if she moved it now. The leather satchel on her workstation held every document from attempt four — growth charts, pressure readings, the cellular adhesion data that proved this hybrid had survived past eleven days. If she reported a living specimen, her family would take it. Lock it away. Study it without her. But if she hid it in the cage, dragged it into the back room, scattered the furniture against the door like she'd been robbed — she could claim the specimen died. Bury the documentation. Keep working in secret. Vella picked up the satchel. Her hands were steady as she opened it and pulled out the scan file from day twelve. The one showing full respiratory integration. She set it on top of the stack she'd laid out for security to find. Then she added the day thirteen readings. And today's stabilization data. Every piece of evidence that this hybrid was alive and functional. The cage stayed empty in the corner. When security walked in, they would find her standing beside a living specimen with complete documentation spread across the table. She'd lose control of the project. But they'd have to admit it worked. And she'd have proof — locked in their own records — that she'd succeeded where the family said it was impossible.