Disclaimer 1: I do not own Criminal Minds.
Disclaimer 2: I do not own Caltech, although I did go to college there. All characters are fictional, regardless of how much they may resemble actual persons.
Author's Note: The format of this story is unusual. It alternates between 1994-1995 and 2010. I hope the weird format doesn't bother people too much, since I've already got a bunch of chapters written and plan to update regularly. I just need to proofread the chapters before I add them to the story.
Some of the chapters contain quite a bit of nerd speak, but I reserve the right to nerd speak as much as I want in a story about my favorite TV nerds. Nerd speak clarifications may be found at the end of each chapter.
This is my first ever fanfiction. Reading &/ Reviewing are much appreciated. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
January 2010
"Hydroxocobalamin," said the UnSub, "A member of the vitamin B12 family, composed of cobalt(I) in an octahedral coordination complex with six ligands - the four nitrogens of a large corrin ring, the one nitrogen of a small benzimidazole ring, and a lone hydroxide ion. Hydroxide ion can be displaced by cyanide ion, converting hydroxocobalamin into cyanocobalamin, another member of the vitamin B12 family. The process sequesters cyanide away from the heme centers of Complex IV, preventing the shutdown of the electron transport chain and the asphyxiation of tissues and organs from within."
He spoke the words not to Garcia, but to the vial of dark red liquid. He shook it in the light of the computer screen. His words all ran together, as if he were reciting them out of a textbook.
Garcia felt fear, then desire. She longed to hold the vial in her own hands.
The UnSub held his finger over his lips in a signal to remain silent. He sat down at the desk and clicked around on the computer screen for a few seconds. The title slide of Reid and Garcia's presentation disappeared from the screen at the front of the room, replaced by a view of the computer desktop with its cursor, icons, and wallpaper.
Embedded in the wallpaper was a counter displaying the concentration of cyanide gas in the room. It read 25 ppm. There was a blank space for a third digit on the leftmost side.
The UnSub leaned back in his chair, making no move to communicate further with the occupants of the lecture hall.
Garcia heard muffled commotion from the room below. She couldn't see into the lecture hall from her position, handcuffed to the side of the desk facing away from the window.
The UnSub frowned as the commotion intensified. He clicked something on the computer screen, which Garcia also couldn't see, and the commotion dropped off, replaced by stunned silence.
The last digit of the cyanide counter scrolled up a few times before coming to rest at 0. The middle digit scrolled up once. The concentration of cyanide gas was now 30 ppm. Garcia saw it reflected in the UnSub's glasses. She didn't know what the number implied.
"Reid!" she remembered, "He would know!"
Reid took a bite of his Twix bar. He chewed, swallowed, took another bite, chewed again, swallowed again. He tore open the shiny blue wrapper of a Rice Krispies treat and devoured the sticky sweet chunk within. He popped Gummi Bear after Gummi Bear into his mouth. He waited for three packets of sugar to dissolve on his tongue.
He was now ready to profile the UnSub. After he profiled the UnSub, he would profile Penelope Garcia. Then, they would all walk out of here together, no one would get hurt, and he would apologize to Garcia for sucking her into one of the deadly vortices that the universe devised for and unleashed upon him on an annual basis.
The glucose from the Twix bar made its way into his bloodstream, then into his cells. The molecules of glucose encountered molecules of cyanide in the aqueous medium of his body. They reacted to produce a jumble of useless harmless chemicals. The celullar concentration of cyanide plummeted below the threshold needed to derail the electron transport chain. The cells continued to rip apart molecules of glucose, collecting electrons from the fragments as they ricocheted through the citric acid cycle. The cytochrome a3 heme of Complex IV continued to accept electrons passed to it from the cytochrome a heme, reducing molecules of oxygen to molecules of water and building up the electrical potential across the mitochondrial membrane. The electrical potential continued to drive the flux of protons through the transmembrane ion channel of ATP synthase, causing the gamma subunit of the protein to rotate within a well surrounded by the catalytic binding sites of the F1 subunit. The molecular rotor continued to induce conformational changes in the catalytic binding sites, lengthening molecules of adenosine diphosphate into molecules of adenosine triphosphate. The molecules of ATP continued to sacrifice their terminal phosphate groups, powering the primitive and non-primitive functions of Spencer Reid's brain.
Cyanide gas continued to diffuse into the room. As the counter scrolled up to 35 ppm, Reid's brain switched into the mode that it adopted under intense terror. That was when it did its best work.
It sped down aisles and aisles of cubbyholes, wrenching them open to release the images within. Chemical structures danced in the air, accompanied by chemical equations, mathematical equations, curves on a graph - some continuous and elegant, others jagged and messy. Reid swatted them away with a sideways glance.
They were replaced by words that lined up in a row, hovering obediently where Reid placed them along the top of his field of view.
A row of numbers appeared beneath the row of words. It was a row of data from his database of criminal offenders. It was so long that it trailed off the edge of the canvas.
Reid shifted his eyes into the distance, and the row of numbers followed him to the back of the room. He scanned through the numbers, picking out a handful of the ones he wanted to keep and tacking them up on the plexiglas window of the control room.
The letters and numbers that described the UnSub glittered bluish white against a black background. Reid scored them as a 10 on the Mohs scale of mineral hardness, like diamond. Diamond was the hardest naturally occurring material, but there existed synthetic materials harder than diamond, and Reid aimed to become one of these over the next few minutes. He aimed to scrape away at the UnSub, gouging him with his own hard edges, leaving him an ugly hunk of rock in the face of superior materials.
Once robbed of his luster, the UnSub would have to choose - fight or flight. The cyanide counter would scroll up in measured increments, or it would scroll up in a dizzying stall. The two hundred students and professors in the lecture hall would live, or they would die.
Reid cringed in doubt. He was not Gideon. He was only accustomed to gambling with his own life.
What the UnSub really needed, what all the UnSubs really needed, was a chance to be melted down - crystal structure dismantled, bonds snapped apart, atoms unchained from their geometric prison. Add a few elements to the mixture, fiddle with the proportions, and a different structure would re-crystallize from the molten liquor.
At the moment, Reid didn't have time to play with his chemistry set. He needed to impose his will upon the UnSub before the cyanide counter displayed its third digit. He needed to nudge the ugly hunk of rock into a harmless orbit rather than a cataclysmic freefall. If there were time later, the hunk of rock could be melted down and allowed to crystallize anew.
The wave of doubt swept over him again. He felt cold and alone. He wanted to exit the lecture hall. He imagined himself curling up in a soft warm blanket with a cup of coffee and one of his favorite zombie movies on the TV screen.
He swallowed into a dry throat and told himself to suck it up. He had a profile, a gun, a plan, and a helper. He turned his attention to Penelope Garcia.
Her name appeared in wispy letters at the bottom of his field of view. A reel played itself over and over beneath the letters. In it, he watched the skinny figure of a teenage girl - her blonde ponytail swinging behind her back, apron strings tied around her waist - retreating out the back door of the kitchen at Camp Fox. The reel was blurry, having been recorded many years ago through the film of a wet paper napkin over his face.
Reid profiled the girl he knew then and the woman he knew today. The letters and numbers that described Penelope Garcia glowed multi-colored against a white background.
He remembered a promise he had made to her years and years ago. They would have to fulfill it together. It was his duty as her noblest Knight, and it was her duty as Princess of her domain.
Letters and numbers clattered to the floor as Reid shifted his focus back to the lecture hall - rows of seats, hunched figures, frightened faces, wide eyes. The eyes fixated upon his name and credentials written in white chalk upon a pristine blackboard:
"Dr. Spencer Reid, B.S. Caltech 1998, Ph.D. Caltech 1999, 2000, 2002."
"Supervisory Special Agent, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI."
Reid lifted his cane and pointed it at the plexiglas window of the control room. He opened his mouth to speak.
The UnSub slapped Garcia hard across the face as she tried to speak to him. Garcia let her cheek throb away on its own while she reconsidered her options.
She didn't try to profile the Unsub, because she didn't have the knowledge. She didn't try to profile Reid, because she didn't have the right.
The soreness she felt at the tip of her nose disappeared in a few sniffles and blinks. It was a physical reflex triggered by the unexpected blow. With nothing to feed it, the reflex was easily smothered.
Garcia recalled a time in her life when it had not been so easily smothered. She closed her eyes and played a reel in her head. The reel was sharp and vibrant, having been created many years ago through the lens of her imagination.
She opened her eyes to banish the unwelcome frames. They were replaced by lines of code that scrolled up, down, and sideways off the edge of the canvas. The lines of code were beautiful with their predictable patterns of indents, parentheses, brackets, braces, and semicolons. Garcia was grateful to them, because they had always been there for her, there to smother all sensation in the aftermath of her personal tragedies.
Coding had worked, then hacking, but when those cold intellectual pursuits had failed, something else had always stepped in to fill the void. She had never been alone, as she was now alone with the UnSub and the upwards scrolling of the cyanide counter, with neither a profile or a gun to bring into battle.
"Reid!" she remembered, "He has both!"
Garcia did not store as many images and reels in her head as Reid did, nor did she entice them out of their cubbyholes as quickly as Reid did. She recalled information as the simple process of knowing.
She remembered a promise he had made to her years and years ago. They would have to fulfill it together. It was her duty as Princess of her domain, and it was his duty as her noblest Knight.
Garcia looked up from her lap as she heard Reid's voice ring out across the lecture hall. It came out strong and clear through the microphone clipped to his shirt collar.
"Doctor," he addressed the UnSub.
Nerd speak clarifications
1) Hydroxocobalamin
An antidote for cyanide poisoning. Cyanide binds to metal atoms, disrupting the energy-generating pathways (metabolism) of every single cell in the body. With hydroxocobalamin, cyanide binds to the metal atom of the antidote instead of the metal atoms in the cellular machinery, so the cellular machinery can keep chugging along, producing energy for the cell. Otherwise, the cell will asphyxiate and die.
2) 25 ppm
Parts per million, a measure of concentration of a substance. For every 1 million molecules in the air, 25 of the molecules are hydrogen cyanide. Cyanide is detectable by smell at a concentration of less than 1 ppm.
3) Reid's candy-eating binge
Candy is full of sugar, or glucose. Glucose is a molecule that reacts with cyanide, converting cyanide into non-cyanide substances. It plays the same role as hydroxocobalamin, but a lot less effectively, so it is not considered an antidote for cyanide poisoning. In this case, I've decided that Reid's sugar addiction is going to protect him from the effects of cyanide poisoning long enough for him to save everyone in the lecture hall.
In metabolism, molecules of glucose are broken down to generate molecules of ATP in a complicated process as described in the chapter. ATP is the energy source for the cell. For every cellular process that requires energy, ATP gets broken down, so the cell needs a constant supply of glucose to generate more molecules of ATP. The mechanism is described in detail because the author believes that this is the way Reid thinks.
4) Mohs scale of mineral hardness
The Mohs scale is a scale from 1 to 10 that measures the hardness of materials. One material is considered harder than another if it can scratch the surface of the other material. Diamond, at 10, is the hardest naturally occurring material, followed by ruby (9), sapphire (9), and topaz (8). Diamond knives are used in laboratories to cut all kinds of things.
5) Coding
Coding is a term for "computer programming", used by coders to describe themselves. Lines of code contain a set of pre-defined words and punctuation marks scrolling every which way in a text editor. The author finds them just as beautiful as Garcia does. (snort, snort)