Columbia University, New York City.

[rt_5478]

Dr. Razrazhatsya's laboratory is impossible to miss. The walls of the hallway leading to it are plastered with warning signs for the janitorial staff and the general public, warning against anyone bringing in liquids, metallic objects, or, of all things, shellfish allergies. Just in front of the door itself, someone has scrawled ABANDON ALL HOPE YE

Comments

[gone_byebye]

Dr. Razrazhatsya's lab is not the kind of place that has graduate students in it, so he feels no particular need or compulsion to knock when he's entering. Anyone who's in there without his permission (expressly written in triplicate and possibly displayed in laminated form) deserves what they get. Thus he makes no effort to knock or to walk loudly, as he's busy reading the paper in one hand as he opens the door with the other.

[rt_5478]

The coffeemaker's fumes mask out any other organic odors. Artie has no idea anyone's coming until he hears the faint beep beep beep of a sequence being entered on the keypad lock outside the door.

Oh, SHIT. He leaps off the desk and scrambles into a crack between two banks of computers.

The drawer he was rifling through is still hanging open a few inches.

[gone_byebye]

It takes him a moment to realize that anything's different, but only because he's got to put the paper down, lock the door behind him, check the door again, deactivate two of the sensor systems, turn and-

"Hmmm."

He doesn't leave drawers open like that. Not here. Now where'd he put that GATTACA shed-collection kit...

[rt_5478]

Huh. Artie could swear he'd heard that voice before.

Not important right now. He has two options: stay put until the man goes away, or try to get back to the air vent without being seen. For the moment, option #1 seems like the best choice. Artie crouches down and tries to stay as still as possible.