Shoot for Earth: MedSci Missions 3

A thought struck Troy. He’d heard there used to be one brief stab of pain with the old sharp metal needles, then a bandage to cover bleeding. There actually was a supply of syringes available right here in the lab, for quick injecting of cloned organs used for testing.

Determinedly, he opened a drawer and got out a needle. His hand shook as he brought the syringe towards the test tube to fill it. Breathe, he told himself. Not wanting to knock and spill, he set the syringe down, shut his eyes, and tried to meditate. His brother’s face came to mind, and he pushed it away. The fear of not seeing him again was too great. Images of flowing water, pastoral scenes, and pizza didn’t calm him. In fact, it felt like his heart rate was rising as he thought of missing them should this fail.

Finally, an image of his calculations entered his mind, clear sharp, and large. His theories were sound. Very sound. He’d triple-checked his hypothesis, methods, and results. His research record was stellar. He had every reason to be confident. Slowly, his heart rate eased.

Troy picked up the syringe again, and sucked up the right measure. Exactly the right measure. He was sure of it. Air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in whooshed out as he placed the needle against a vein. For thirty full seconds he looked at every detail of it. It would bring him to a new reality or suck him into a black hole of nothingness forever. He drew a deep breath (his last?) and pushed the needle in as he exhaled. His breath intake paused until a full second later, he pushed the plunger.