An Intangible Pattern

Madness in the mail

Noah was distracted when he approached his home after a long day in the lab. They had reached phase II testing for a new suppression drug for omegas which could fill the gap for those who could not use existing medication. There was a colossal amount of data to collect, everything from biometrics, pharmacokinetics to participant diaries. Then, of course, they would need to arrange the alpha participants to conduct the pheromone tests to check that it did actually work. In his mind he was still compiling a list of things to do when he crossed the threshold to his cottage and saw the package on the floor.

He hung his key on the nail by the door and picked it up curiously. It was addressed to him, but to his office address; someone at reception must have brought it round since it had his name on it instead of the companies.

He was pretty certain it was the sample from Alexandra Navita.

The tide of shame he had been keeping at bay by throwing himself into work crept up on him again. He found that if he kept himself busy, he had little time to think about it and would fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion: he was less likely to dream about her tear-streaked eyes. He dreaded what he might do when the relentless gauntlet eventually wore him down and he was forced to stop.

He had been close to the edge more than once over the last month. The worst occasion had been when Arthur had appeared with a tin full of cookies and a handwritten note from Alexandra's mother, Mariana, thanking him for taking such good care of her daughter. He had managed to excuse himself from Arthur by pretending he had a stomach upset, and escaped to the bathroom long enough to pull himself together. He seriously considered taking his own life that day but he knew if he were to do that, there were few in his position who would be willing to find a way to stop the attacks. No, death was the easy way out for him and his death wouldn't help Alexandra, or anyone else, even if they both wanted it.

"Find a solution." She had said in her last email, and that's what he would do.

He took the package through to his study and threw it onto his desk. Noah's brows furrowed in irritation; the study had been tidied and the fireplace was lit. That must mean Graeme had been here. The old man always seemed to be cold, and though it was August, there had been a slight snap in the hot weather and a few days of rain - hardly a temperature drop of Arctic proportions. He was also fastidiously neat and no matter how many times Noah asked him not to touch anything in the study, the old man would insist on tidying things away. Noah could admit to himself, to the untrained eye, his office was disorderly; but there was order in the chaos and he knew where to find everything . He sighed at the prospect of having to rifle through his papers again to find the ones he needed. At least they would be alphabetized, knowing Graeme.

He opened the window to let some fresh air in, took off his coat and tie and loosened the collar and arms of his shirt. He sat down at his desk and opened the package.

Might as well sort through this now and get it over with.

Inside was the zip lock bag containing a stained t-shirt and, to his surprise, she had also provided a DNA sample. He hadn't expected her to actually provide something so personal. She was brave, that was for sure. He put it into his briefcase to be processed in the morning and compared to his own DNA sequence.

He took up the nasal suppressant and put the tip into each of his nostrils, squirting the drug and inhaling deeply. He then put on a pair of gloves and took up some scissors. He needed a sample of the shirt for chemical analysis. As he opened the bag, he was hit with the sweet fragrance uniquely Alex's.

"Shit!" cried Noah in shock as the smell hit him. He just had time to lament that he had not used a respirator when the familiar flush took over his body.