The Seven by Sean Patrick Little

slow breath. His knees felt weak and shaky. His heart was beating rapidly, painfully. He collapsed feebly into his chair, hands falling limply to the sides. Tucker was the sort of bully that Cormair feared since he was a boy. Science was his work, his life. It was his only desire. Putting up with people like Tucker was the price he had to pay in order to indulge his desires.
    "Water, please," he said. Sebbins reached into a small cube refrigerator under the desk and handed him a bottle.
    "You kowtowed to him," she said. "All this time, I've only see the legendary ice-cold Doctor Cormair, the fabled emotionless stone gargoyle---heartless, soulless, relentless in his work, driven and single-minded. But, I see you have a weak spot."
    "I will thank you not to mention it again, please," said Cormair. He drained the bottle of water in a single breath. "General Tucker is the liaison of the group that has funded this project for the past decade. He pays your checks, my checks, and enables us to be able to do this great work of ours. He has been the only person to check on our work here. He has had the only say on whether or not this project continues since its inception."
    Cormair stood up and walked to the tank, staring at the young woman suspended in the brilliant orange serum. "This project...is the culmination of my life's work, Doctor. I have been doing recombinant gene therapies and working on creating the next order of life since I was an undergraduate student! This is all I have ever done. It's all I ever wanted to do. If I must kowtow to General Tucker to do it, I will. I am nearly seventy now. That is five decades of work. It is a lifetime of labor in which I have advanced the collective knowledge of humanity more than any scientist before me. I realize, of course, that I will die before the true value of what I have done is know, but the important thing is that I have done it. My name will be legend amongst the learned the world over. The work I'm doing here will eventually lead to cures for cancer, AIDS, Alzheimer's, and who knows how many other diseases and syndromes. I have created something great. I cannot have it taken away from me now; you must understand me!"
    Cormair turned and grabbed Dr. Sebbins by the shoulders. "Do you understand? This project is my entire life! It must succeed. I will not allow it to fail." His heart pounded and a vein throbbed in his head. He could feel himself sweating. Now that he was so close, he needed to finish this project. He was on to something on a fundamental level that could change the future of humanity. His whole life as a research scientist---his whole life in general---was wrapped in this project. Without the research, without seeing the success of the research, his whole existence was for naught. It could not happen that way!
    "This project will go through no matter what!" Cormair stormed to the door of the laboratory. "Keep an eye on her. Alert me the second anything changes!"
    "What about the rest of the kids? The military protection? They're bright kids, Doctor. They're going to figure things out."
    "I will tell them tomorrow morning, first thing."
    Cormair walked to his room. He kept a basic living quarters in the laboratory level. It was decorated in a modern, sparse style. The furniture was black, white, or gray. The walls were white and decorated only with a few famous pieces of art works, mostly old masters. They were prints, of course. Posters, really. Cormair would never waste resources on real art.
    There was a small, utilitarian kitchen in his living quarters. Cormair only used it to heat water to brew tea. He set the kettle on a burner and prepared a tea infuser ball of a leafy, strong peppermint tea. It would calm his stomach. It would calm his beating heart.
    Sebbins was a good assistant. No. Sebbins was a great assistant. But, if she tried to get his project stopped, he would have to fire her. She was too close to the subjects. That was jeopardizing the