The Blueprint (The Upgrade Book 1) by Wesley Cross Page B

angle.
    “Max.” He shook his friend’s shoulder.
    “Hey.” Max sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “My God these chairs are horrible.”
    Is she still sleeping?”
    “No. She’s up and asked me to bring her some breakfast, after I told her.”
    “I’m sorry pal.” Max got up and squeezed Jason’s shoulder. “Let’s go get her some breakfast then.”
    They went to a small cafe just two blocks away from the hospital, and Jason got Rachel a French toast few slices of bacon, and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Jason and Max only got themselves coffee. Neither had any appetite.
    “You’re not going to tell her, are you?” Asked Max as they walked back to the hospital.
    “Am I going to tell her? I’m not crazy, Max. Of course I’m not going to tell her. Especially right now.”
    They entered the building, stepped into the elevator, and Jason pushed the floor button, but an older woman caught the closing doors and stepped in, smiling apologetically.
    “Sorry, in a bit of a rush.”
    Jason and Max politely smiled back.
    “Don’t you worry, it’ll happen before you know it.” She patted Jason on his arm. “It always does.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “The delivery, of course,” she said smiling at him. “You have
the look.
Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
    Jason couldn’t find what to say and simply shook his head. Mercifully, the elevator stopped and the woman stepped out, patting him on his arm just one more time.
    “I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
    “Jesus,” said Max as the doors closed.
    As they entered Rachel’s room, they found her sitting on her bed furiously typing something into her cell phone.
    “Thank God you’re back. I’m starving and you surely took your sweet time.”
    Jason and Max looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
    “Sit down, both of you,” she commanded them in a voice that anticipated no objections. I need to tell you something.”
    Jason sat on a chair he’d slept in and waited as Max dragged another one from the hallway. As he was looking at Rachel, going at her French toast and bacon as if she hadn’t eaten in a week, some crazy hope moved in his chest.
    Could it have been a mistake? Some kind of mix up with paperwork, where they got somebody else’s results instead of Rachel’s?
    “I spoke to the doc when you were out and the good news,” she said between two pieces of toast, “is that both tumors, as massive as they are, haven’t spread beyond my lungs.”
    Hope died before being truly born.
She’s not rational; she must be traumatized by the news and losing her grip on reality.
    “Stop looking at me as if I were crazy,” she said as if she could hear his thoughts. “I understand the gravity of this situation, but I just might have a solution.”
    She put down her coffee cup and gave them a hard look.
    “I’m not supposed to share this information with anybody without the proper clearance, but considering the impossibility of anyone punishing me beyond lung cancer that left me with just a few weeks to live, I might as well.
    “You, however, shouldn’t share this information with
anyone.
This is jail-time kind of sensitive.”
    As Jason listened to a tale of artificial implants that could possibly save his wife’s life if she was allowed to participate in early human trials, he couldn’t help but wonder about fate. A phrase he’d heard somewhere before, surfaced in his mind.
Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
    “What do you think are the chances?” he heard himself say.
    “In animal trials, twelve of sixteen subjects had survived. And technology has been greatly improved since the last trial. I think, realistically speaking, my chances are over ninety percent.”
    “Will they have to get some kind of approval from outside of the company? FDA? I don’t really know how this works.”
    “Well.” she said, “they’ve been approved by the FDA. I guess, technically speaking, they would have to bend a rule