Mack
opened his eyes. Something was wrong, he could sense it. He
listened for several long minutes. He couldn't hear anything. Then he
realized, that's what was strange. He often could hear Conner in the
next room over breathing deeply, but there was nothing. Maybe he was
simply breathing shallower than normal.
He
relaxed and closed his eyes again, but he couldn't get comfortable
again. He glanced at his bedside table, where beside the picture of
his wife sat the tablet that tracked the questions Conner was asking
Data. He couldn't read the most recent questions, but he could see
that it was active. That's weird, he thought, but then
again, Conner has worked late before. Then he glanced at the
clock: 2:00am. But he's never worked that late before. Mack
grabbed the tablet and read the most recent questions. What are
these?
He
glanced back through the list, not understanding. Then it hit him.
His eyes grew wide and he jumped out of bed, swearing loudly. He
grabbed a jacket and shoes from the corner of the room and raced down
the stairs, not caring that he was still in his boxers. He was
half-way down the stairs before he realized his keys were still on
the bedside table. He ran back up and grabbed them, along with his
cell phone, and charged back down the stairs, out the door, and into
his car, tripping and nearly face-planting in the process.
Once in
the car, he threw it into gear and peeled out of the drive-way. He
had to get to the lab, fast. He dialed Dale's number. It rang once,
twice, three times. "Come on, Dale. Pick up." He swore as he ran
a stop sign and nearly hit another car, which honked loudly. He
didn't care.
"Hello?"
greeted a very sleepy voice.
"Dale!
We have a problem..."
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