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Child snagged a passing lab tech as she made her way back to the office she shared with the two other professors.
“Do you smell smoke?” She asked.
The young man she had collared looked at her with a startled expression, like a rabbit hanging by its ears.
“Um, no?”
“Good.” Child said, sweeping on down the corridor and leaving the lab tech quaking and confused. She glanced down at her watch, groaning as she realised how late it was. She could have been home; watching late night movies and swilling cheap supermarket brand red wine, yet here she was in this concrete box watching screens and doing paperwork. She could almost hear her brain slowly calcifying with the monotony of it all. She thought back to her university years; still not quite ancient history but rapidly acquiring the rose-tinted brilliance of memory, and the excitement and the buzz she had felt. She needed to start on something new, maybe try a transfer, or just take a year away from work. She had enough saved up. If she was frugal she could manage it.
She keyed in the door code for the office, loathing the euphoric little bleep as the door swung open. It made her want to punch the damn thing.
“All on quiet on the-…Stern?” She peered about the office, curious to find it empty. As a rule there always had to be one person in the office, keeping an eye on things, and Stern was a stickler for rules. Child stepped into the room, looking behind the door and around the various bits of machinery dotted about. He was nowhere to be found.
Scratching her head, Child took her seat in front of her monitor. The reason for Stern’s disappearance became apparent. Child was glad she wasn’t in the middle of drinking anything, because she would have ended up spurting it at the computer screen. On the screen was a rushed e-mail from Cassie.
Hi Prof C,
Project Eunomia is active!!!! Stern’s down there already.
Regards,
Cassie (Research Assistant ^-^)
So overwhelmed was Child by the news that she did not even have the inclination to cringe over Cassie’s manner of expression. The overuse of exclamation marks, one of her pet hates, did not even register. She was out the door and on her way to the lab.

Child negotiated the almost numberless flights of stairs with surprising swiftness. She paused in her thoughts more than once to thank her lucky stars for the sneakers she was wearing, trying not to imagine the perilous descent in high heels. She was wheezing by about Level 6, and was ruminating on the gym membership her sister had jokingly gotten her for Christmas. The next time she looked up and saw the floor number emblazoned on the wall she imagined a countdown in her head. She could hardly believe it, that Eunomia was active and responding after so long. She had long since abandoned almost all thought of Stern’s ambitious project. Thinking back, she could recall all the Frankenstein related jokes she and Bailer had shared when Stern first began building up his project, cell by cell. They’d had their hand in it of course, but it had been Stern’s baby. Child and Bailer had been ready to console him when the project failed, but the stubborn man had refused to accept it. After the incident with the traumatised research assistant they had debated asking Stern to terminate Eunomia, but had decided not to. Stern had been so fixated, they feared he would walk out on them. Many of the other, less ambitious projects depended on Stern.

When Child made it to the lab she was panting like a dog on a hot day. Not wanting to burst in red-faced, but anxious to make sure Stern had not been reduced to a jibbering wreck like the research assistant Child collected herself. She pushed the door open sharply, calling Stern’s name. The light from the tank had dimmed now that it was no longer needed and the room was sunk in gloom. Child fished around for the light switch for a few moments before her palm collided with it and the room was illuminated.
A thin, female cry echoed about the room at the appearance of the light. Child traced its source to a thin, greyish limbed creature with a great mass of bushy, blonde hair lying on the floor with tubes still attached and a jacket across its back. Her initial revulsion was soon beaten back by fascination. The creature had its head down, presumably hiding its eyes from the glare of the lights.
“It’s not right…”
The statement, coming from Professor Stern, made Child jump. She had quite forgotten he was in the room. He sat on a battered office chair, head hung down dejectedly, supported by his hands. Before Child could speak he dropped his hands, looked up at her with an impassioned, anguished expression and gestured to the pale creature.
“She’s supposed to…she’s supposed to be better.” He mumbled ineffectually, seemingly struggling for words. Child frowned.
“What do you mean?” She said, crouching down close to Eunomia. Tentatively she removed the jacket, examining the skin, the body, for mutations or lesions. There was nothing. She was fully-formed, suitably perfect by Child’s standards.
“Her brain.” Stern said, exasperated. “I spent countless hours encoding information, piecing together the neurons, ze little grey cells.” he spat humourlessly. “She should be able to speak fifteen different languages. I painstakingly crafted every inch of her; made her stronger, better. But this…look at her, she’s like a baby.”
Eunomia made a husky groaning noise. Child looked pointedly at Stern, as if she were looking at a spoilt child who had received a new toy and was pitching a fit because its colour was wrong. She didn’t say another word to him, going instead to conduct an examination of Eunomia. The girl hissed and groaned as Child poked and prodded, checked her pulse and her heart-rate, inspected the bruise-coloured patches of flesh and her eyes. Child held up a finger and was pleased to see Eunomia’s eyes following it without problem.
“I don’t see what you’re complaining about. She’s healthy, functioning normally. You’ve created a sentient being from scratch, you should be celebrating.” She muttered.
“She’s not right!” Stern snapped, growing more obstinate and childish by the second.
Child turned to look at him again. “What do you suggest? We can’t terminate her now.”
Child felt a cold, clammy hand touch hers. Looking back around she found Eunomia trying to grasp her hand. Her fingers were stiff from lack of use. Child held up her hand, examining her hand as if she were looking at a piece of art, or a computer chip. There was not a seam to be seen, no mark of imperfection. Her peculiar skin tone was not all that aesthetically pleasing, making her look rather like a drowned corpse, but Child liked to think it was merely the effect of the lack of light. She noticed Eunomia’s shoulders shaking slightly. She opened her mouth, tongue peeking out from behind perfectly straight teeth. A stale breath whistled through them, followed by a string of repeated sounds.
“k…k…kuh-kuhko”
Child could make no sense of it, until she saw Eunomia was shivering.
“Are you cold?” She asked.
It took many seconds, but Eunomia’s head dipped downwards in a sign of affirmation.
Child turned to Stern. “We’re not terminating her.” She said bluntly, replacing the jacket and wrapping it around Eunomia’s shoulders. Slowly, she tried to raise her to her feet, supporting her on wobbling, weak legs. Stern looked at the both distastefully, turning his head away.
Continued in Part 3 --->

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