Chapter 1

I was a part time technician's helper at General Biochemical Research, Inc. As you can tell from my job description, my employment was rather tenuous, and I dared not piss off any of the supervisors, which, in my case, included the full time technicians.

I had no specific job, but functioned as a "gofer;" that is, I went for whatever my current supervisor needed or wanted. That included everything from coffee to the most exotic and far-out chemical or biological thing-a-ma-bob. That's how my adventure started.

My current supervisor, Dr. Anthony, sent me to his special refrigerated storage room to pick up something with a god-awful long sequence of identifying letters and numbers. I had no idea what it was, and truthfully, I didn't really care. As far as I was concerned it was just another "step-and-fetch" job. We were working in a lab that was normally used by a different principal researcher, so Dr. Anthony's storage area was on a different floor.

He was in a hurry for me to pick up whatever it was he wanted, so he gave me the key to the executive elevator to speed my trip. I had never been on that elevator, since it was reserved for the highest ranking of the researchers. Anyway, I walked as fast as I could to get to the elevator because I was fascinated with the thought of a new adventure. Man, was I disappointed! The thing just turned out to be a small elevator.

Well, I got into the elevator and went up the two floors to Dr. Anthony's storage area. I picked up the package he wanted, which was a carrier made from a metal grid and contained 13 small vials. Each one was labeled with that same serial number, so there was no possibility of making a mistake. I hurried back to the elevator and punched in the floor number to return to Dr. Anthony and the lab.

Things started out normally in that the elevator started down, as I expected it to. However, just moments after I got on there was the most unnerving screech of metal on metal and the elevator began to accelerate. It fell about 2½ floors before the safety mechanism reacted to bring the elevator to a jarring halt.

I have no idea how fast the elevator was moving when it was brought to a halt, but there was no question that I was in freefall during that time. Naturally, as soon as the elevator stopped falling, the metal grid was jerked from my hands and fell to the floor. Every one of the 13 small vials shattered upon impact with the floor. Of course I fell to the floor at the same time. The liquid in the vials immediately formed a thick mist which I was unable to avoid breathing into my lungs. As I said, I had no idea what was in those vials, but something in them caused me to pass out and stay that way for some time.

Security in the building was excellent, and everything that happened within the elevator had been recorded by a security camera. Had I been conscious and aware of that, I would have been very relieved because it would have been obvious to even that SOB, Dr. Anthony, that the accident was not my fault.

I was rescued as quickly as possible by workers wearing appropriate HAZMAT outfits, and I was rushed to the hospital. I was unconscious for two days and then held in the hospital for three more days just to make sure that I would have no grounds for suing GBR. I was checked from stem to stern for any sign of harmful effects from breathing whatever was in those vials. My blood was checked multiple times each day, and so much was drawn that I began to wonder if I'd have any left by the time they got through.

They couldn't find anything wrong so I was eventually released from the hospital. Dr. Anthony was so pissed off at me that he contrived to get me fired, even though I had nothing to do with causing the accident. It seemed that he was upset because he was working with something called recombinant DNA and gene splicing, and I had caused him to lose about six months of work when all of those vials got broken. Dr. Anthony was chasing that most valued goal in the realm of pure science: a Nobel Prize. He was sure that it was all my fault that the elevator fell, and he was losing months of time on his project.

I didn't feel too bad about the whole thing, since GBR did give me a generous severance allowance and paid all of my medical bills. I was sick of working among those stuffed shirts, anyway, so I was happy with being able to get out of there with a lot of their money in my pocket. Of course, I had to find a new job, but my prospects were pretty dismal in this town. Therefore, I figured I had better move on, and I thought I'd like to give Chicago a try.

Yes, I am a penny pincher, though I would not call myself a miser. During my time at GBR, I had been living in a homeless shelter in order to keep my expenses to an absolute minimum. I had left home on my 18th birthday and had taken the first job that I could find; namely, the one at GBR. I had been there for two years, and had not expected to stay there much longer in any case.

I had never attended college, even a community college, and had simply been pretty much of a slacker since I graduated from high school. I was a first-class automotive mechanic, and had worked at that job for two years until I turned 18. My father said that I had the ambition of an earthworm, and I had to admit that there was some truth to this statement. I wound up working at GBR simply because I was running out of money before I could find a job as an automobile mechanic.

It only took me about 15 minutes to pack everything I owned in the world's cheapest suitcase. I walk the half-mile to the bus station and bought a ticket for Chicago. I was living in central Indiana, so it was going to be a short trip.

I got to Chicago in the middle of the night and made my way to the nearest homeless shelter. They were right pissed off that I showed up so late, but somebody had a conscience and let me have a bed for the night.

The next morning, I visited the state employment agency to inquire about the possibility of getting a job as an automobile mechanic. I was shot down immediately because I was not certified as a mechanic nor could I show any paperwork asserting that I had been trained to work on a specific vehicle brand. Okay, I was going to have to do this the hard way.

There was a newspaper in the lobby of the employment agency, and the section of newspaper with the help wanted ads was still there. I looked through and found several independent shops that were looking for mechanics. The employment agency did let me use their telephone to call several of the shops that were nearby. Two of them sounded promising, so I got instructions on how to reach the first one by bus and walking.

This place needed more than just a mechanic! It was a dump, and I don't know how they were ever able to get any business. Anyway, I mentally threw up my hands and went to visit the other shop that had sounded promising.

By the time I got there, it was mid afternoon and everybody was taking a coffee break. I walked into the shop part of the operation and saw that the place was full of cars and vans being repaired. The shop floor was as neat and clean as one could ever hope that an automobile repair place could ever be. I walked up to the group of men who were drinking their coffee and asked if they could point out the boss to me. I had talked to him on the phone so I had his name at least.

I was directed to the office, and there I met a most bodacious young lady. It turned out that she was the daughter of the owner and manager of the shop, and she took care of the scheduling and ordering for the business. Her name was Janice Williams, and I introduced myself as James Brinkley, though I said I did prefer to be called "Jimmy." Janice smiled, and I almost melted into the floor! She called her father from his office, and he came out to talk to me.

We went into the shop where he could use some of his current work as examples while he asked me questions. I confessed that I had never been trained on using the electronic diagnosis systems, but I didn't see why I couldn't learn. We talked for about half an hour, and Mr. Williams (call me "Bill") finally offered me the job. He said that I would start out at minimum wage, since I had so much to learn and a lot of my time is going to be spent as a gofer. However, he did promise that I would get a raise as soon as I proved myself. That seemed fair to me so I took him up.