The edited version of "The Field Trip."
4: The Field Trip
After a painful forty-minute drive, the entire class arrived at the Genetics Laboratory of Detroit. Through the entirety of the trip, Lincoln and Birtz had engaged in a conversation, and made plans to go to the movies, though they had to deal with what seemed to be a jungle in the back of the bus. The bus stalled, and everyone got out, crowding a sidewalk near the main building. The building in front of them was heavily modernized, being varied in bricks and structures. Everyone visually examined the building in awe, astonished and perplexed by the building's impressive infrastructure and design. Now, they just needed to wait for their guide to welcome them. Lincoln and Birtz were still together, and basically inseparable.
"So this is it?" Lincoln says, nudging Birtz' side. "A lot bigger than I expected. Honestly, I thought it was going to be a small building. But now that I'm here, it has like four floors, probably more..." He looks at his friend, who's acknowledging the building, astounded. "What do you think?" Birtz can't bring himself to take his eyes off the impressive building. "I didn't think our school would bring us to a cool place."
"For real!" Birtz agrees, directing most of his attention to the building. "I thought it would be more broken down and old." He finally breaks the stare and turns to Lincoln. "Realistically, that sounds more like a place they'd actually take us." The two laugh, but their laughter gets cut short after a large kid bumps into them from behind. Lincoln stumbles forward, narrowly missing a few students standing in front of him. Birtz is barely affected by the push, since his feet were heavily planted to the ground. Though it startled him, his initial reaction is to locate the culprit, scanning the area to catch them. Behind him is Arnold Sawyer, the same student who's notorious for being hollow and insincere—he has a considerable history of bullying. Birtz sends a glare of irritation his way, but Lincoln's heart sunk upon realizing his presence, especially since the latter had chosen to start an altercation with the two.
"Oh sorry, my bad, Burps. I seriously didn't think it was you." Arnold says, making a joke out of Birtz' name. Xavier Ferguson, one of Arnold's friends, laughs at his friend's attempt at smartassery, while Birtz rolls his eyes. Arnold looks to his friend and quietly slips, "That was a good one, eh?"
Xavier decides to take his own shot at the boys. "Yeah, it was just an honest mistake. You guys looked like bollards, and we were looking for something to lean on. It must be because you're so slender and still." Xavier ridicules, referring to Lincoln's slim build. His wisecrack made Arnold audibly snicker. Birtz turns to Lincoln, and could see that the boy had turned into a quivering mess. He directs his attention back to the bullies, pissed off.
Birtz warns them in a voice laced with venom. "Go away..." He acknowledges them—he hated everything about the bullies, from their idealistic clothes to the satisfaction they got from turning other's lives into a living hell. Birtz has no empathy for people like that, and he's got no shame in it. His eyes narrow angrily.
"What? You're going to use daddy's money to stop me?" Arnold jokes. He turns to Xavier. "I'm almost scared of this spoiled brat. His dad might pay and send an airstrike to our houses." The two bullies start to titter. "You're full of yourself, Birtz. Just as full as your wallet." Birtz clenches his fists, and Arnold takes note. "Aww, looks like the little baby is mad, what are you gonna do? Shit yourself?"
"There are other means to stop you." Birtz says. "...and I'm not gonna shit myself, there's already enough shit here, considering you're full of it." He looks at Lincoln but fails to meet his eyes. He was hoping, maybe, that he'd get some sort of laugh from him, but instead, the white-haired boy's gaze is fixed on the two bullies, with an expression that was nothing short of terror. He doesn't understand why Lincoln's scared stiff.
"Really? You and Skeletor comin' to stop us?" Xavier says, practically challenging them to a fight. Though the two bullies have many friends to back them up, they don't share the same classes. Either way, they already have considerable strength—Arnold and Xavier have decent experience in martial arts. A fight between them, Lincoln and Birtz would be unmatched, and they'd undoubtedly come out victorious. Silence grows, and the air's filled with tension. Arnold and Xavier send intimidating glares Lincoln and Birtz' way, the fear on their faces still distinguishable.
"AHEM! Sorry if I'm interrupting the moment." They all turn to the person who'd broken the silence—it was Mr. Nicholas, their teacher. "So, gentlemen, what's going on here?" It doesn't take him long to understand the situation, after all, he had heard a bit of their exchange from a distance. "Xavier and Arnold, knock it off. Come with me now." Lincoln sighs in relief, and his heart returns from his throat—the adrenaline from nearly getting into a fight was understandably a lot of pressure. Considering that Arnold, including his friends, have been a huge adversary for him throughout his junior year, getting into a fight with them in the midst of other students would be too humiliating and frightening. Arnold, before leaving his victims to ponder, gives them a final set of threating words—especially for Lincoln.
"This was the least of your worries, Loud. You better hope there's no repeat of our last fight. The same goes for you Robern." Arnold scowls, before storming off with his friend Xavier, using his best efforts to instill fear into the two. Birtz, who was still afraid despite standing up to them, checks on his friend, knowing how scared he looked. It seemed to be some sort of post-traumatic stress—now that led Birtz down a tunnel of questions. Something was up, he knew it. Lincoln was never that fearful. He vividly remembers, when Lincoln had insults hurled at him, whether it was by Arnold or one of his friends, he brushed them off like they were nothing—though he would often voice his frustration afterwards.
Getting close to him, Birtz puts an arm around his shoulder. "Don't mind those guys, they're just... asshats." Birtz comforts, "There's plenty of them around the school, though Arnold and his goons have been your main problem... I told you they'd come after us at one point, but now that Mr. Nicolas took them off our backs, we won't be dealing with them for a while. Now, I got a quick question for you.. why were you so scared?" He pauses for a second, taking a moment to think. Arnold's last sentence... 'You better hope there's no repeat of our last fight.' That was it—Arnold did something terrible to Lincoln. All the questions that raced his mind were answered. "Wait a minute… he mentioned something about your last fight? You fought him?!" Lincoln shakily nods his head. "Stop."
"Y-y.. yeah." Lincoln says, his voice shaken up from their encounter. "Those guys scare the living crap out of me." He stares at his feet. "One day, they jumped me after school… I did kind of put myself in that spot, though."
"C'mon man, stop playing around." Birtz says, in disbelief. "You're serious? Like, serious?" Lincoln gives him another nod. "When?!"
"It all happened, a month ago... It was March. I'm still recovering." He awkwardly looks away. "But I don't want to encounter those g-guys again." His voice starts to crack, and his lips quiver. "I c-can't talk about it... It's just too scary." Birtz stares in disbelief. The pieces were coming together—but one thing was missing. Lincoln and Birtz were friends, and they cared about each other. Why would Lincoln keep this a secret? He didn't believe it was healthy to live with a horrid memory like that, especially without expressing it to someone. Did Lincoln not trust him, or anybody, at all?
"...and you never told me about this!?" Birtz exasperates. "Why?!" His stir-up causes students to glance in their direction, confused and annoyed. Lincoln, who prefers to not make a scene, tries to contain Birtz' temper. He whispers in his friend's ear.
"Calm down! Kids are staring!" Lincoln's cue prompts him to take in the surroundings, and he acknowledges the kids around him. They're giving the two boys mixed glares—a mixture of confusion and annoyance. He then realizes that they'd formed a small circle around them, presumably in anticipation for their beatdown at the hands of Arnold and Xavier. He faces them, endeavoring to divert attention away from them.
"Don't mind us!" Birtz announces, before turning back to Lincoln, muttering something under his breath. "Stupid people..." He knew had they gotten into a fight with Arnold and Xavier, their fellow peers would snicker and record them, and that pissed him off. "Anyways… Why didn't you tell anyone?" Lincoln awkwardly looks away, fearing how his friend would react.
Lincoln sighs, "I hate to say this... but, I was afraid of being judged." He's reminded of all the times he's been overshadowed, unsuccessful, and looked down upon. "What can I expect? A lot of my sisters are stronger than me, yet I can't even swat a fly." Lincoln's eyes met the floor. "No matter who, where, or when, I always feel like the weakest one in the room." After hearing these words from his friend, Birtz pats him on the shoulder.
"It's okay, buddy." Birtz comforts. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me the truth... don't worry Linc, you're strong, in your own way. You don't need to be an absolute unit to kick some serious ass." Using the help of his encouraging words, Birtz is able to see a glimmer of hope in his friend's eyes, and Lincoln perks up, cracking a half-smile. "Oh! You're smiling."
"You're right, I am smiling." The two break from their half-hug, and Lincoln and Birtz' eyes meet each other. "Pretty good words of encouragement you've got there. Thanks, it really means a lot... I'm sorry for not telling you, I just wasn't comfortable telling anyone... especially with some of the stuff I was told—I'm not just afraid of being judged." Lincoln says. He leans in to whisper in Birtz' ear, just to be sure nobody else hears. "If this gets out, Arnold will make my life a living hell... so please, and I'm telling you, don't tell anyone."
Luckily, Birtz is very understanding. "It's alright man, I swear on my life that I won't tell anybody." He pauses for a moment. "Not even my parents, not some random dude on the internet... nobody. Your secret is safe with me." Birtz doesn't hesitate to offer his friend a fist-bump, to which Lincoln immediately accepts. Then, he catches something from the corner of his eye. "Oh, looks like our guide is here... finally!"
Their guide for the morning arrives, distinguishable by an olive laboratory coat. She approaches the class from afar, holding a plastic clipboard tucked under her arm. She appears to be a tall, slender woman, who keeps long brown hair and large circular glasses. Upon her arrival, Mr. Nicolas stands beside her. On her coat, "GLOD" is imprinted in white medium-sized letters above the left pocket.
"Alright everyone, may I please have your attention! This is our guide for today. She will introduce herself, then explain what we'll be doing for the day." says Mr. Nicolas, the class not being completely silent, to his discontent. "Quiet!"
"Hello, section… one. My name is Janet Silva, and if you have any questions, you can address me as Mrs. Silva. Today, we'll be exploring the entomology section of the GLOD, where we host investigations, experiments and studies on the genetic composition of insects, which also includes arachnids, myriapods, and crustaceans. We'll go through the area, which will have many organisms on display, including a few genetically modified ones. There will be many adults working in the area who'll be more than happy to enlighten everyone on these matters—but remember, there are many who are actually working, so remember to stay as quiet as you can. Also, photographing is prohibited in our facilities." she says, giving the class an introductory. The majority of the students listen, though many continue to drool over the building's complexity.
Birtz takes the opportunity to make a quick joke. "I forgot everything she just said." He gets closer to Lincoln. "Didn't she say we can photograph all we want and yell as loud as we can?" He shakes his head upon realizing how stupid his remark was.
"Hmm. You're funny..." Lincoln drawls. Before setting off, Mr. Nicolas makes one last announcement.
"Class, follow Mrs. Silva, she's going to take us to the entomology section." instructs Mr. Nicolas, as the young woman starts to wander off, gesturing at the students to follow her. "Remember, keep quiet and no photography."
The class starts to follow Mrs. Silva to the building, which appears to grow bigger the closer they get. Upon reaching one of the entrances, she unlocks it using an ID card, which hung from a lanyard. Mr. Nicolas stays behind and holds the door for all of the students, to assure that the door doesn't close and lock them out. Once they're in the building, the modern architecture comes through at full force.
"Here's our entomology section," Mrs. Silva says, a hint of pride in her voice. Inside the entomology section, they're presented with the sight of laboratory and research equipment, along with glass receptacles that house different species of insects, including those which are genetically modified. Televisions and monitors are mounted onto walls and load-bearing pillars, certain ones added to display the listings of small details and statistics to further educate any newcomers (The area was open to students and tours). As anticipated, many people were working in this section. The space had high ceilings which reached heights of thirty feet, mesmerizing Birtz.
"How are they supposed to clean all the way up there?" Birtz questions, in a quiet and low tone, doing his best to respect the others who're at work. He points upwards to the ceiling which stood above them—small details like fans and vents were barely visible to the naked eye.
Lincoln stares where Birtz is pointing, and takes a few seconds to analyze. "Probably a big pole, which would be pretty heavy..." He scratches his chin. "I remember a time when I did volunteer work at my dad's restaurant, and we had to lift some pretty heavy stuff. It was pretty tough on my shoulders. So, I'm pretty sure if we tried cleaning that ceiling with a big pole, our shoulders would be sore for the rest of the week..." He looks at Birtz. "You need the right person for the job!" Their conversation's cut short when they start towards the first display, and Lincoln and Birtz' are knocked around by a flock of moving students. "Ooo, looks like we're getting started."
Mrs. Silva, who continues to guide the tour, leads the class to an exhibit near the left side of the large room. There, the students are introduced to a study where the ways that "beneficial insects contribute to the well being of humans, animals, and plants" are the central ideas. This exhibit lacks the habitual glass containers, a unit that's been ever-present throughout the entomology section. Rather than studying insects, it feeds off information from the other exhibits. Out of the few people working in this section, a male scientist introduces himself, stepping up to give an educational speech. He isn't very tall, but sports a neat beard and puffy black hair. The latter wears an olive laboratory coat, which, at this point, seems to be their dress code.
"You guys must be in science class, section… one, from Royal Woods High School?" he asks.
"Yes." Mr. Nicolas confirms, and the man nods his head in response.
"Right. I'm Jason Bautista, a scientist here at the Genetics Laboratory of Detroit. If you have any questions in the middle of my quick presentation, feel free to address me as Mr. Bautista. Before I start, I'd like to clarify that we're really happy to have you guys. It's always a pleasure to have student visitors." the scientist says. He speaks in an overly gleeful tone—something which stands out to Birtz.
"Why does he sound so happy? It's nine in the morning." Birtz says, emitting a partially suppressed laugh. "Man, I'm going to hate work when the time comes… especially if I have to talk like that." Lincoln and Birtz start a silent exchange while the scientist continues to deliver his speech, even though Lincoln was adamant to take plenty of notes while they were there.
"Some of the basic, well-known ways that insects benefit us is their defense against pest insects, their pollination of the crops we use as food and their clean-up of waste." Mr. Bautista says. The majority of the students take out their materials, and jot down useful points from his speech. Meanwhile
"Birtz, do you realize that you got up at seven in the morning today? You've been bouncing off the walls all morning. Why is it that now, you're complaining that you would be too tired?" Lincoln asks. "You're literally contradicting your own ideas." Birtz facepalms.
"Oh Lincoln, you just don't understand... I was amped up for the field trip—it was something different and exciting, for a change. Even though I'm not interested in the slightest, it's good to be out somewhere rather than sitting in a jail cell." Birtz says. "I can't believe I was actually excited for this, we're just standing around and listening to 'science talk.' My legs will probably feel like jello after this." Lincoln rolls his eyes at Birtz. "What?"
"I came here to learn, you know... I was looking forward to this trip, I've been struggling on the paper."
"You came here to learn?" Birtz chortles. "I hope you realize that you've missed like, half of the presentation, by talking to me." He isn't wrong because Lincoln immediately realizes his mistake. He was fine with missing out on information, though—biology was nothing special to him and he didn't care about it.
"Oh crap, really?" Lincoln says, before turning to face the front, where Mr. Bautista continues to deliver his speech. He realizes that he buried himself deep into their conversation, rather than focusing on his main objective at the GLOD—to listen and learn. "I got immersed into the conversation." Birtz watches as Lincoln mouths something to him—he was no lip-reader, but Lincoln definitely said "screw you."
"Insects are also prominent because they aerate the soil, and help break down and dispose of wastes. This would include dead animals and plants. If it weren't for these insects, they would accumulate across the earth, which would be an unpleasant mess, to say the least." Lincoln starts jotting down notes with the materials he brought from class. "Many may complain that insects are annoying and unnecessary, suggesting that a world without them would be better. But in reality, killing off all insects would cause a huge imbalance in our ecosystem. As previously mentioned, insects play a huge role as pollinators. Without them, all trees and plants would be subject to death." Mr. Bautista explains. One of the students in Lincoln's class raises his hand, looking to get some information.
"Yes?" Mr. Bautista replies to the raised hand, gesturing to the student.
"You picked me, sir?" the student says, double-checking.
"Yes, go ahead." Mr. Bautista insists, giving the student the go-ahead to talk.
"Can insects feel pain, or emotions? I have a dog at home, who's completely attached to my mom. Whenever my mom leaves and she can't reach her, she'd cry until she sees my mom again. Do insects have emotional attachments like this? Also, do insects feel physical pain like we do?" the student queries. Mr. Bautista stalls for a second to come up with his choice of words before speaking.
"Well, most entomologists would agree that insects do not feel emotion, or at least not in the same way we do. Their brains are much simpler, missing the key parts associated with emotion. For your other question, yes, insects do feel physical pain. They feel something similar called "nociception." Upon feeling physically harmful stimuli, they react akin to the way we'd react to pain. Does that answer your question?" Mr. Bautista responds.
"Yes, thank you! That was very helpful!" the student says. "I have another quick question—in what ways are humans and insects alike?"
"Well, most of the enzymes, which is a type of protein found within a cell, made by insects and humans are very similar. The muscle and nerve cells also work alike in humans and insects. We both have similar organs that do more or less of the same things. Also, just to give you guys a fun fact, sixty-percent of the DNA code of fruit flies and humans is the same. With that knowledge, we know that most human genes and insect genes are identical and function alike." Mr. Bautista informs. Plenty of the students find that fascinating, and write it down, presumably for later use. "Alright! We're running on limited time here, so I'm just going to wrap it up right here."
"Wow... that was interesting." thinks Lincoln, writing down the key parts of Mr. Bautista's speech. "This is some handy information for my paper!" Meanwhile, Birtz stands a few feet away from Lincoln, not focused nor absentminded. He marks down a little bit of information—only with the mindset that he'd get in trouble if he didn't.
"Thank you, Mr. Bautista. I'm sure the students learned plenty." Mr. Nicolas says.
"With pleasure, Mr. Nicolas. If you guys have any other questions, feel free to ask me. Just make sure to stay away from any of the equipment, some could be dangerous without the necessary safety precautions." Mr. Bautista advises. "If you're looking for me, I'm sticking around this area. Just come to this exhibit and shout my name, and I'll be at your service." Once Mr. Bautista concludes his speech, the tour guide steps up to reprise her role as the main speaker.
"Alright everyone, I hope you enjoyed Mr. Bautista's speech. Now, we're going to move on to another exhibit." Mrs. Silva says. "When we're there, Mrs. Cook will present our assortment of genetically modified organisms." Birtz, being the ignorant person he's been since entering the facility, is confused and surprised that genetically modified organisms exist—though he knows they exist for a fact.
"Genetically modified? That's a thing? Did you know that?" Birtz asks, nudging Lincoln's shoulder. He doesn't respond, and the failure to get his friend's attention prompts Birtz to continue bothering him. "Lincoln? Lincoln? You dummy, answer me!" On Lincoln's part, he tries to ignore Birtz, because he's been nothing but a distraction since they entered the facility. Hopefully he'll leave him alone—that doesn't happen, though, and he should've expected that. "LINCOLN!"
"What!" Lincoln hisses, in a quiet yet aggressive tone, shifting his head towards Birtz aggressively. Birtz is unfazed by Lincoln's sudden reaction—considering that he pestered him for ten consecutive seconds, he was expecting a reaction of that sort.
"Uh, yeah, I was asking you... have you heard of a genetically modified organism?" he asks. "It seemed really out-of-the-blue to me. I don't think I've heard of something like that before." He wants a straightforward answer, but instead, he's given a series of unpleasant laughter. "What? Why are you laughing? Can you just give me an answer?" Birtz figures that he had probably made a stupid mistake, given that Lincoln's a science know-it-all.
"Um, of course I've heard of that before!" Lincoln says, practically wiping tears from his eyes. "Are you really that stupid?!" Birtz rolls his eyes, and Lincoln chuckles. "Everyone has heard of a GMO." Birtz finds something familiar about that term—then the realization hit. Yep, he was stupid.
"Oh yeah!" Birtz clicks, as the abbreviation for a genetically modified organism boots up his memory. "I remember the abbreviation... thanks for reminding me, I guess." He starts to laugh with his friend. "I am pretty stupid!" Once their laughter subsides, the tour guide prepares to lead the class to another exhibit.
"Let's go, everyone, follow me and your teacher." Mrs. Silva instructs. She leads the class to another part of the entomology section, where glass containers are laid across a large table. Each of them houses a strange type of insect with a type of genetic modification. A few entomologists are working in the area, either at a computer or working with an unknown piece of laboratory equipment. Behind the spot where the class settles, there is a large monitor mounted onto a load-bearing pillar, displaying the traits of the different insects. A woman with coarse auburn hair steps up to introduce herself, sporting the same distinct olive coat.
"Hello, you all must be part of Mr. Nicolas's class. I'm Mrs. Cook, a scientist here at the Genetics Laboratory of Detroit. Me and your teacher knew each other in high school. We became good friends through our similar interests in biology." she says.
Mr. Nicolas nods his head with an embarrassed smile, giving the impression that he knew something the students didn't. He rubs the back of his head. "Yes, we were good friends growing up."
"If you guys have any questions during my quick presentation, feel free to ask." Mrs. Cook says, and students within the crowd nod their head, or say 'okay' and 'alright.'
In the flock of students, Birtz and Lincoln choose to stand in the back—they were pretty tall and could see well over the others, though there's an odd bunch who stand much taller. Birtz observes the displays from a distance. At the bottom of each glass container, there's a compacted layer of a dirt-like material. In one of them, a large spider rests on the moist dirt. After he spots the creature making a huge leap to the top of its container, Birtz' attention is spoken for—he pokes Lincoln's shoulder, in hopes of getting his attention.
"Whoa! Dude, you see that?" Birtz asks, and his friend shakes his head. "A spider just leaped from the bottom to the top of the container!" Lincoln chuckles, giving Birtz the impression that he's skeptical about his claim. "I'm serious! Look at it with me, it's that one over there." He gestures to the container with the same spider in it. Lincoln and Birtz keep their eyes fixed on the arachnid while Mrs. Cook continues to deliver her speech.
"In this exhibit, you may see a lot of different insects, each having unique traits." Mrs. Cook says. "First off, I'd like to introduce one of our most complex specimens in the entire entomology section, the enhanced spider. It's a noble false widow with improved physical attributes, which includes jumping, speed and strength. If you were to stomp on one of these, it would take another four or five to kill it. But, of course, we don't want to kill these little guys, they're very valuable in our eyes." One of the spiders jumps onto the side of the glass, which happens to be the same one Birtz and Lincoln were observing.
"See!" Birtz exults, upon seeing the spider make another jump. "Told ya, I wasn't lying."
"Okay, I sort of believe you now." Lincoln replies.
"Why sort of? You saw it with your own eyes!" Birtz counters. He figures Lincoln is trying to wind him up—revenge for bothering him earlier.
"Because you said it jumped from the bottom to the top, which means it would have to do a hundred eighty degree flip mid-air." Lincoln says. "If you're too stupid to understand what I just said—I'm saying it needs to do a flip to land properly on the top of the container." Birtz rolls his eyes.
"I never said I didn't understand…"
"Okay? I was just making sure. You're too stupid to understand most things, anyways." Lincoln says, half-jokingly. The two continue to converse while Mrs. Cook gives her educational speech, and Lincoln ends up missing out on another handful of useful information—failing to fulfill his promise of avoiding another distraction.
"The spider was given an extra sense. They're able to detect when prey or imminent threats are nearby, and may react on instinct. For example, if we had a sixth sense like this, I would be able to tell if someone tried to attack me from behind. I would instinctively do some kind of maneuver to dodge the attack. Many of us in the building like to call it "spider-sense." However, the additional sense was never given it's own proper name."
Another student raises his hand, which peeks out from the crowd of students surrounding him.
"Yes?"
"I have a question. One of the glass containers is empty?" they question, pointing to one of the glass receptacles. Inside, it appears to be suited for one of the spiders, but the mini-environment was deserted. "Is there supposed to be something in there?"
"Oh, I forgot about that. That glass receptacle formerly accommodated another one of the enhanced spiders. I believe they may have removed the spider due to complications regarding the spider's design. Either that, or it needed some type of maintenance." Mrs. Cook states. "No need to worry..."
"Okay, thank you!" the student replies.
"Getting back to my speech, this wouldn't be possible without the help of Herman Industries." Mrs. Cook mentions. Birtz recognizes the name of his father's company, even though he and Lincoln ignored the majority of the speech, and he starts to listen in. "They gave us insight with their early versions of their performance enhancers, and we implemented them to create a genetically enhanced spider. Just a fun fact for you guys." Birtz raises his hand, eager to brag about his dad's nobility.
"Have a question? You in the back?"
"No, but I would like to share something. My dad is the founder of Herman Industries." Birtz says, proudly. This wasn't something he often talked about, but considering their current position, he figured it would be a nice way to spice up the conversation.
"Oh wow, really? That's very cool! What's your name?" queries Mrs. Cook, longing for more information.
Birtz enjoys the attention, and is more than willing to share more. "My name's Birtz Robern, and my dad is Herman Robern." Birtz explains. "My dad usually doesn't tell me what he does at work, though. So there's not many questions I can answer." He shrugs, unable to give a concise answer. "I guess it's confidential, and he doesn't trust me with secrets..." Birtz wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. His father can be confusing at times—he was probably making up stories to steer him away from the truth.
"Oh well, that's too bad, but it's pretty cool to know!" Mrs. Cook beams. "Your dad's company used to be pretty big and famous in the science industry—so you should feel proud! Thank you for sharing, Birtz. Hopefully, someday, you'll follow in your dad's footsteps!" Birtz looks down awkwardly. Is that what everyone expected of him? Simultaneously, Lincoln, who was listening to the exchange between Birtz and Mrs. Cook, decides to walk over to one of the TV monitors, which is mounted a few feet behind him.
"Interesting, his dad played a part in developing those... interesting spiders." Lincoln thinks, stepping in front of the monitor. "It looks like this monitor is displaying information on them. I'll go check it out." Lincoln starts to read the text presented on the monitor.
"The genetically enhanced spider was a project started in 2012, during the time Herman Industries was experimenting with performance enhancers. After a collaboration between the Genetics Laboratory of Detroit and Herman Industries took flight in 2013, the project was quickly finished and successful among the science community." Lincoln quietly reads to himself. The text fades out, then another set of information takes its place, similar to the way a slideshow would function. "The project successfully improved the spider's strength, durability, agility and jumping ability. Early tests showed an increase in strength by two-hundred percent."
"Two-hundred percent? That's wild." he thinks. Next to the information, there was a high-quality photograph of the enhanced spider. The photo was large, taking up half of the screen. Lincoln feels a tingle on his skin upon seeing the photo—he cringes at the sight of the disgusting creature.
"Ew, I can't imagine having that thing crawling on me.." Lincoln whispers. "Makes me feel itchy thinking about it." The uncomfortable feeling moved from his neck to his arm, as he continued to read more text. "Let's see here... the spider's extra sense was in development in 2014, after early versions of the spider were created. It was designed to allow the spider to sense imminent danger nearby, with an instinctive reaction to get away from or stop said threat. If one were to experience this, they would locate the danger and find a way to stop it or get away." He takes a moment to process the information. "That's fascinating..." The tingling sensation continues to run down his arm—and it was starting to get on his nerves. "The hell, what is that? There's no way it's just my imagination.."
The sensation runs up his arm and onto his hand, leading him to instinctively look at his hand. The white-haired boy realizes that the tingling sensation wasn't from his own imagination, rather a bug that had made its way into his shirt, and later navigated to his hand. But, Lincoln's heart sinks as he sees that it isn't any ordinary bug—it's a spider. Lincoln can't be sure if it's just an ordinary spider that's been lurking around the building, or a venomous spider that escaped its enclosure—there was not enough time to react.
"Ah!" Lincoln flinches after feeling a sudden sharp pain. He bumps the spider with his other hand and it falls to the ground. The creepy-crawly appears to be already injured—it struggles to crawl. Lincoln steps on it with his shoe, squashing the spider, it's crushed body sticking to the shoe's outsole. Nothing seems out of the ordinary with the spider, and, even in the rare scenario that it actually is a venomous spider, he could easily consult Lisa's help. She was practically a genius in every imaginable thing, so there was no need to worry. "I shouldn't let anyone here find out about this... I don't want to cause a commotion, no, no. That would be plain stupid..."
"What's up?" asks Birtz, tapping Lincoln's shoulder and taking him by surprise. Lincoln turns around sharply.
"Oh, um… nothing!" he assures.
"You said, 'I don't want to tell anybody about this so I don't cause a big commotion.' I'm not deaf. I came over here because I heard you get scared." Birtz deadpans. Lincoln needs to come up with a fake story, unless he wants Birtz to jump all over his case. He nervously laughs.
"Okay, well you see-" Birtz pauses him—he found the problem, or at least what he thinks is the problem.
"No need, now I can see what happened. There's a strand of spider-silk hanging from the ceiling. I can barely see it, but it's right behind you." Birtz says, pointing to the area behind him. "You really thought you could sneak that past me, eh?"
"Yeah, that was definitely it…" laughs Lincoln, nervously. He turns around and sees the long strand of spider-silk that suspends from the ceiling, only visible through the light that makes it shine. It stopped around his neck level. He takes a moment to reflect. "So that's where it came from…"
"Don't worry, it was probably, or I'd say, just a normal spider lurking around here. All of the enclosures are literally sealed tight, and nothing could've escaped... unless they made them able to phase through walls." He laughs a bit in the form of a snort. "Alright man, let's get out of here, we're moving exhibits now." Birtz suggests. "Getting yelled at by Mr. Nicolas is the last thing I need right now-"
"Robern, Loud!" calls out Mr. Nicolas. "Come on, we're leaving."
Birtz facepalms, curses himself under his breath, and sets off. However, Lincoln stalls for a few seconds. He takes the time to acknowledge the bite mark on his hand. The skin in the area is stained with a red pigment, and two small indents are parallel to each other where the spider dug it's fangs. He figures the bite looks normal, considering the affected area is pretty small.
"I hope no one notices…" he mutters. "It looks like a normal bite to me."
Little did he know, that very bite had carved his fate.