Rising From the Dust
AliZoe
AliZoe (c) 2014
Prologue
New Girl on the Block
Flipping open her opaque water bottle, she swigged the liquid inside. Smirking to herself, she reflected on the hunt to get the substance. The difficulty in this day and age proved a task, but she adapted and her capacity to do so and get away with it made the experience that much more satisfying.
"Here we are, ma'am: The Jeffersonian Institute. That'll be $43 flat," the slobby Taxi driver blurted with no shame. Pulling her Chanel wallet out of her Gucci black leather purse, she handed him $45.
"Keep the change," she spoke, her dead voice, rang with long vowels and hard consonants, revealing her accent.
"Thank ya kindly," he nodded, snatching the bills from her hands and waving them in the air. "You know, it's the middle of spring. All those layers of clothes gotta make you all sweaty or somethin,'" he added, glancing at her flawless face covered by oversized sunglasses and shadowed by a large designer sun hat. Her amber hair waved beautifully down her torso and to her waist adding to the coverage of her neck. Smirking slightly, she placed her hands on the door and clicked the handle. Pushing it open, she slid out and slammed it shut without saying a word.
You will be next, she thought to herself as he eyed her body up and down conspicuously. Her white professional suit fit her hour glass body perfectly as the white slacks lengthened her long legs with ease. White silk gloves covered her hands and wrists as her boots masked her ankles and feet. A fancy lace scarf draped around her neck finished her look. Wiggly her fingers in a goodbye and with a forced flirtatious smirk, she turned on her heels and strode up to the building. Pausing, she took a deep breath and tugged open the door. With her stilettos clicking on the hard, marble floor, she glided to the receptionist's desk. "I have an interview with Dr. Saroyan."
Skimming through her files, the woman acknowledged, "Daciana Lupei?"
"That is me," she smirked, pulling the sunglasses off her face to reveal her deep, chocolate, brown eyes that penetrated the soul. Her full lips, red with matte lipstick, widened to show her perfect, pearly white teeth.
"I'll let her know you're here," she returned the smile. Picking up the landline and pushing one of the many buttons, she pressed the phone to her ear. Holding up one finger towards her, she waited as it dialed. "Dr. Saroyan? Your three o'clock appointment is here….sure thing, bye." Replacing the phone, she addressed Daciana again. "If you will follow the security downstairs, she will meet you in her office," she finished gesturing towards an officer in a blue security outfit striding up to them.
"Thank you, my dear," Daciana smiled again. Focussing her attention on the man, he held out his arm towards the hallway for them to follow. Detecting his nervousness, she knew her power over men. It wasn't their fault; she received that influence from her late husband.
Smoothly walking next to him, he cleared his throat, "I noticed your accent. You from out of town?"
"I am from Romania," she replied, with her eyes smiling deeply into his. Glancing away nervously, he nodded his head.
"Well, welcome to America. I'm sure you'll get the desired position here at the Jeffersonian. You'll fit right in with the culture differences, I reckon."
"That is very kind of you," she paused as they walked through the glass doors. Peering up, she observed the laboratory as Interns categorized and scrutinized different sets of remains. Her grin widened.
"This way, ma'am," he motioned. "Just right through those doors."
"Thank you." Taking one last glance, she turned and slowly stepped inside the large office.
"You must be Daciana," Dr. Saroyan grinned, standing up. Walking over and shaking her hand, she placed her hands behind her back, feeling Daciana's piercingly large eyes. "I read your resume and it's very impressive. Now, if you'll take a seat, lets begin the interview." Smiling, Daciana nodded her head and sat across the desk from her. "From what I've read about you, I feel like you would excel here at the Jeffersonian. I do have one question though...what is the allergy that you listed on the application? There wasn't a name or description attached to it."
"Xeroderma pigmentosum-" she began as another woman walked in the room.
"Xeroderma pigmentosum: an autosomal recessive genetic disorder of DNA repair in which the ability to repair damage caused by Ultraviolet light is deficient. In extreme cases, all exposure to sunlight must be prohibited. Even in miniscule amounts, individuals with the disease exposed to sunlight would be devastating. Those who have the disorder are often referred to as Children of the Night," she announced matter-of-factly.
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan," Dr. Saroyan spread an exasperated grin.
"You are from Romania. Your accent specifies the region of Transylvania," she continued.
"Well done. Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Brennan. Daciana Lupei, the pleasure is mine to meet the both of you."
"Cam, I would very much like Ms. Lupei as an Intern. Her background in the European countries would be educational for the other interns and variety would be appreciated. I request you approve of her stay," Dr. Brennan stated with confidence.
"It seems I have no choice," Dr. Saroyan sighed. "I see no objections from your paperwork and I've read many appraisals about your outstanding work. I'll give you a trial run and determine whether we'll offer you a more permanent position."
"I am honored by your offer. I shall perform to my best abilities," she grinned slyly.
"Good. I'll have Dr. Hodgins cover the windows to reduce any potential exposure to sunlight. I suggest increasing your Vitamin D intake so as to get the proper nutrients that the body needs that would normally come from sunlight. Work hours are long and one needs to constantly be standing, so you'll need all the strength you can receive," Dr. Brennan added and turned to walk out. Turning back towards Dr. Camille Saroyan, she returned the smile.
"Welcome to the Jeffersonian."