Blind Eye Read Free

any accidents. Of course, she kept telling herself, there were not going to be any accidents. Choosing this location was only a matter of convenience and security. As a team, they were following safety guidelines that were stricter than those used in any military or commercial nuclear laboratory in the country. There would be no contamination. Dr. Eugene Lee, Marion’s advisor at UC Davis, had promised her when recruiting her for this project that, at twenty-five years old, she had a better chance of getting run down by a garbage truck than dying of radiation poisoning.
    She looked up at her advisor as Dr. Lee started articulating his contribution to the testing.
    â€œTwo containers will undergo crash analysis in a drop test to an unyielding target. Two others will undergo collision tests. The leak test is the most critical feature of the NRC requirement, so we are dedicating five containers to that testing. The pressurized environment is temperature-controlled to plus or minus one degree Fahrenheit.”
    Dr. Lee summarized what Marion already had on her clipboard as far as raw numbers. She was well-read on the Nuclear Regulatory Commission’s requirements. There were minimum standards they had to adhere to. Unfortunately, she knew that some of the standards wereforty years old and pretty much obsolete. But their device would be a first. A major outcome of this research project was the creation of specifications for future manufacturers.
    Robert Eaton interrupted the scientist. “A delivery? Now?”
    They all looked at the wall-mounted monitor that the project manager was staring at. The large computer screen dedicated to facilities data indicated that the elevator was descending from ground level.
    â€œ Are we expecting a delivery?” Lee asked.
    â€œNot that I know of,” their leader answered. He looked at Marion. “Did we receive any communications from the power company this morning?”
    â€œI’ll check,” Marion replied, pushing to her feet and moving to her station. She was surprised that the landline phone connected directly to the ground floor hadn’t sounded. The security above always gave them a heads-up before the elevator was sent down.
    â€œIt has to be a food delivery,” Arin Bose commented from his corner. “Maybe a cake or a dozen doughnuts for a little celebration.”
    â€œWe don’t have any delivery on the schedule for today,” Marion replied. Technically, the nine scientists weren’t sealed in this facility for the duration. Still, food and any other special requests were delivered according to a preset schedule by way of the elevator. There was to be no human contact to further minimize the risk of disruption…or contamination.
    Andrew Bonn, a physicist from Texas, broke in. “I requested some antibiotics.”
    Marion already knew the man to be a total hypochondriac. While the rest of them went through standard testing for radiation on a biweekly basis, Bonn insistedon daily testing. But that was nothing compared to the dozen or so imaginary illnesses that he’d claimed to contract since they’d arrived here.
    â€œI didn’t know you were sick again,” Lee said, unable to keep the skepticism out of his tone.
    Bonn snorted. Nobody in this group would survive as a politician out in the real world. Each scientist was too outspoken when it came to anything that might inconvenience them personally. They were treated like celebrities in their own university surroundings, and they brought that expectation into this situation. The Texas physicist rolled his chair back from the table and stood up. A pressurized button on the wall by each door released the lock from inside. Everyone needed to type in a sequence of numbers to get into the control room. Leaving was no problem.
    Andrew Bonn left the control room through the door to the hall where the elevators were located.
    â€œThey subtract five thousand dollars