The central lab of Factory Gamma was a sterile, glass-walled pavilion situated between the second and third rings of incubation cylinders. Inside sat the cult’s crowning technological achievement: the Master Alchemical Synthesizer. A ten-foot-tall rig of polished brass, quartz distillation coils, and computer-controlled micro-pipettes capable of compounding complex organic solutions at a rate of one hundred liters per minute.
Arthur Vance stood before the main console, his Monocle Loupe interfacing directly with the machine’s sight data port. Digital readouts in glowing amber text flickered across his field of view:
ALERT: IMMUNOSUPPRESSANT Pool AT 4.2% // MASS REJECTION EVENT IN 28 MINUTES.
“Look at the cellular tracking data,” Morrigan Calder said, rushing into the lab with her medical satchel slung over her shoulder. She set a rack of sterile glass test chemical vials on the stainless steel counter. “The embryos in Vats 100 through 250 have already begun showing signs of acute micro-blood-vessel thrombosis. Their blood is clotting inside their umbilical shunts. That was because the cult’s man-made hormone drip is running dry. If we don’t restore osmotic balance, every embryo on this floor will suffer permanent brain death.”
“We’re not just restoring their hormone drip,” Arthur said, his fingers flying across the synthesizer’s brass keyboard, rapidly purging the cult’s toxic chemical formulas from the memory banks. “The cult’s formula is designed to keep them dependent. If we feed them more immunosuppressants, we only delay their deaths. We’re going to synthesize an old family steadying cure.”
