"I need a console."

"Just like that then? You never call, you never write, now you're wanting something? I don't like it, mate. Don't like it one bit."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You done?" His friend nodded. "So that console."

"Alright, demanding parasite. What sort?"

"Circular, cathedral ceiling to floor, controls about waist high, multidirectional, everything proof, maybe five feet round."

The other boy nodded. "How soon?"

"Next week."

"I'll see what I can do then."

"Thanks, man."

He waved him away, mumbling something about graphene and amazonium diamonds.

Meanwhile, Barbara was making progress of her own at school. "Now how would a biocontrol system work for people with similar DNA?"

"How do you mean?" asked her biology teacher.

"Well, let's take iris scanning and siblings. That's fine for one person, but suppose someone else needed to get in but maybe the first person is unconscious? Is it possible to use the same system for multiple persons or would one have to use one system per person?"

Mr. Hotch scratched his chin as he thought over her questions. "Well...what did you say this was for again?"

"It's just a research paper for another class," she said, thankful for all those late night poker lessons.

"I see. To be perfectly honest, Miss Campbell, you're making this much more difficult than necessary." She frowned. "Why not use cellular extraction?"

"Cellular extraction?" Her mouth dropped open in sudden realization and she slapped her forehead. "Cellular extraction, of course! Then insert it into the protoplasm probably and- oh, thank you sir!" She ran out of the room, leaving a bewildered Mr. Hotch.

For the first time since learning free period could be skipped without consequences, she stayed, using the time to sketch possible time machine designs. When the bell rang, she had a grand total of two rectangles surrounded by dimensions. Barbara gathered her things and followed the few students remaining out the door, making a mental note to convince an art student to draw something for her. On the way to the weekly mid-day assembly, she was joined by Ian. "And where have you been today?"

"Out," he replied. She raised an eyebrow. "Hey, that's my thing!"

"No seriously, where were you?"

"We're going to be able to steer the machine now."

"Oh goody!"

"It's gonna be useless unless we can, you know, get the thing working."

"We can. Trust me, we definitely can."

"How exactly?"

"Cellular extraction."

Ian opened his mouth to argue against the idea, then he closed it again. "That could actually work," he said after a moment. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"See how useful teachers can be?"

"Did the teacher tell you how to go about it?"

"Well, no, but-"

"How's that useful then?"

"-I've done trials before, it's not that difficult. Unpleasant side effects, but the upside is most of them only last about an hour."

"How unpleasant we talking?"

"Anything from extreme exhaustion and lethargy to nausea."

"And?"

The ends of her hair became highly interesting. "And? What 'and', did I mention any sort of 'and'?"

"But there is one, isn't there? Worse than nausea." She nodded reluctantly. "Spill."

"In very, very, very, very, very rare cases, there has been...two subjects have...the rarest of tests have resulted in...well"- she cleared her throat- "death."