The cold chamber door creaked loudly when opened. It was not a pleasant sound, let alone in the middle of the silence that reigns in the empty building. Laboratories throughout the plant were closed, the lights in the hallways off. Going to the lab on a Sunday afternoon could be a significant advancement work week, but it was not a pleasant occupation for a day supposedly dedicated to relaxation and leisure. But the young researcher was used to forego some leisure time to move forward with this work, especially when writing of the thesis was pressing. So I was resigned to the prospect of entering the cold room, dark and full of irritating noises, determined to finish fast and get out as soon as possible.
A gust of stale air as it was stepped into stay. During the weekend the cold room was closed long time, in contrast to normal working days, when people enter and exit was constant. Once inside he closed the door behind him (a practice that had been used to help save energy and maintain a constant temperature), and for a moment stood still, not daring to take a step, waiting for the light fluorescent tube blinks several times before going on the whole. Finally, the light was fixed and all the vast amount of artifacts that filled the darkness materialized, giving form and color to the strange sounds. Between shelves full of ancestral obsolete equipment, reagent bottles, and column purification of various kinds, lots of rocking equipment the directions and intensities content as diverse as the products were stored in the camera: orbital shakers eppendorf tubes filled - some of them, burdened with more tubes, for which they were designed and attached with adhesive tape strips color-rocking trays with different angle and tilt, loaded with polyvinyl membranes waiting to be revealed, Petri dishes with lots of culture media, centrifugal obsolete and rusty ... the inventory was almost incomprehensible. However when one enters a chamber at a constant temperature of 4, does not pause to contemplate its wonders, because the cold is not exactly inviting to meditation and entertainment. So without further ado went towards their goal, a tray of turmoil in which he had placed the night before a lunch with a membrane western blot. It was time to reveal it, ending at last (if the experiment had gone well) one of the chapters of the thesis happy. But rather than pick it up without delay and leave the chamber, she stopped the stirrer. Along with its membrane, there was something else.
lunchbox It was another, quite different from that used in their laboratory. More robust was a lunch box, plastic and nearly opaque green cap. It really looked much more important than miserable tub of margarine, washed with bleach and transformed into westerns container (a common practice in laboratories where the budget is always limiting.) And it was not unknown at all. The reason I stood staring, mesmerized by the motion of the agitator, was that the same lunchbox was more than one month in the same place, stirring constantly, watching dozens of other lunch boxes that rested at night for removed the next day. He himself had changed over the past several weeks, and had always been in the same place the mysterious abandoned lunchbox. In the laboratory all knew already; evidently did not belong to any of them even had spoken to other researchers. Nobody knew anything. Of course it was something that no one rested too, so the thing had not gone further. At first thought it would be a rare experiment, a long-term treatment, but it seemed more logical to think that someone would have left forgotten, strange as it might seem. But now that he stopped to think, even at no time had opened the lunch box to find that it was a western blot membrane . Perhaps it were otherwise, but ... What?
finally could not contain his curiosity. With an almost instinctive, pounced on the lunch and began to open. At that moment, in those microseconds for the body involve only a few moves but the brain can make hundreds of thoughts, he wondered why he was doing, he imagined that he was wasting his time, it reproached the absurdity that it was getting cold by such nonsense, and surprisingly subtle but another thought it was perfectly identifiable pesente: fear. Something inside him was careful, as once worried that impelled him to turn around and leave clutching his own lunchbox, forgetting that to which he had no right to lean.
But it was late. What she saw inside the lunch box was too incredible to ignore it. There was a membrane itself, or something that had been a membrane, without any doubt. The size and shape, a thin rectangle, like a paper cut, still there, but the white vinyl membrane had become a strange amalgam of colors and shapes twisted roots spread as far and wide entire surface. In some parts the thickness was three times the original membrane, and the ramifications stretched up to the fluid in which floated that mush. He came to examine it closely, but now you could almost hear a voice in his head that implored him to shut the cover, away. But curiosity got the better of common sense, and kept coming, watching carefully the contents of the lunchbox, trying to find something which in itself was a scary thought: the whole movement could be seen inside the lunchbox, is really needed the bustle of the agitator? Suddenly, one of the branches hit the surface of the liquid, almost like in response to its intrigue. He stepped back a moment, startled, and went back even more intrigued with the apparent motion, thus precipitating the end of his curious and short adventure.
There was a rapid movement, shooting, and a splash stronger than the previous one gave him full in the face. Despite having closed his eyes instinctively, the liquid had reached and began to feel a sharp sting. When tried to open, the liquid penetrated fully and everything around became a confusing blur. An attempt was rubbing his hands only to have the splash penetrated faster through every pore of his skin, and itching to spread as quickly as the panic. He turned sharply on itself, and hit the shoulder with a metal shelf, making several bottles fall to the ground with a bang. The blow off balance and fell forward on the wet floor of the cold. For a few seconds, there stretched, cursing his curiosity and recklessness. Tried to get up, but suddenly felt very tired ... just got incorporated from the waist up because his legs failed him and slipped on the floor every time he tried to stand. Sadly he reached the doorway, shivering, to discover with horror that it was closed, locked himself almost automatically. Tried in vain to reach the lever, located halfway up the door, but nothing could be done: your body does not respond. He put his hand to his face one last time, to notice that sort of overlying mucosa her eyes and cheeks. Have cried, but his body was no longer able to produce tears. So he was lying, there at the foot of the entrance, plunged into semi-consciousness, his vital signs and lethargic your brain shrink gradually. Within minutes, it was over.
When they found the body, confusion was tremendous. As much as science fiction films depict the laboratories and most dangerous places, the result of spectacular accidents in fact a death was so unusual and shocking. It closed the Institute of Police Research and meticulously studied the cold room where the corpse had appeared. Several leading researchers accompanied the officers in their inquiries, but found no explanation for the strange marks on the face of the deceased, or relation with all the different products that could be stored in one place. Finally, after enacting a death by natural causes and remove the body, turned gradually to restore functioning.
Meanwhile, in the cold room, a lunch was shaking. The next person who entered was asked, puzzled, who missed a lunch would have left under constant stirring.
But even stranger was that the lunch box was empty.
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