The lab was cool, the air carrying the pungent smell of nutrients, and a slight ginger scent from the plants in the tanks.
Overhead, strips of LED lights buzzed quietly, casting a white glare across the steel benches and rows of incubators. The hum of filtration systems and soft whir of climate controls were the only sounds beyond the quiet tap of Kathleen Knowles’ fingers on her monitor.
She stood over a sealed growth chamber, carefully documenting the readouts displayed on the screen embedded in its side. Inside, submerged in a nutrient solution, five plants unfurled beneath the controlled lights. Their leaves were broad, glossy, a striking deep green with silvered veins threading through them.
Kathleen typed a few commands into the console, narrowing the wavelength of the light slightly.
Behind her, Ted Winters shuffled between benches, arms full of sample trays. He stood a little too tall for his lab coat; his elbows jutted at odd angles and a mop of unkempt hair flopped into his eyes. He was midway through his PhD, and still moved like he expected to break something every time he touched it.
"You'll want to recalibrate the nutrient feed on Tank Three," Kathleen said without turning around. "The conductivity's dropped two percent since yesterday."
Ted dropped the trays onto the bench and fumbled for his tablet. "Sorry. I thought it was stable."
"It's close. Butcloseisn’t good enough when you're modifying bioelectric uptake," Kathleen replied mildly, keying in another adjustment. "Especially not with this one."
Ted peered into the chamber. "Still can't believe it’s working. I mean... that cell structure shouldn't even be possible in a terrestrial plant."
Kathleen allowed herself a small smile. "That’s because it’s not based on earth evolution. Not entirely."
She gestured toward the tank, where the plant’s roots floated free in the solution, fine tendrils branching and pulsing with minute electrical activity. "We’ve reengineered the vascular system," she explained. "Instead of passive capillary action, it’s actively drawing nutrients and water using micro-electrical impulses. It’s faster and more efficient."
Ted whistled softly. "No wonder people are freaking out about this project."
Kathleen gave a noncommittal shrug, but the muscles in her shoulders tightened slightly.
She hated the attention. The speculation. The academics circling before the research was even complete.
"This could be the cornerstone of an entirely new biome," she said, mostly to herself. "If we can scale it, it’ll change everything."
Ted leaned against the bench, his expression eager. "Do you ever think about what it'll mean? I mean, seriously? You could be—" He caught himself. "Youwillbe famous. Like Nobel-level."
Kathleen made a small, dismissive noise and focused on adjusting the oxygenation levels inside the chamber. "I didn’tstart this for awards," she said quietly. "I started it because the world will need it."
Ted fell silent. In the hush, the machines hummed steadily, processing the future one molecule at a time.
Kathleen watched the plants reach lazily toward the artificial sun, their silvered veins gleaming. A small part of her, the portion she'd buried under decades of discipline, felt a flicker of pride.
If it worked here, in this tank, she could imagine fields of it someday, transforming energy.
She straightened and made a final note on her tablet. "Run another sample in Tank Two," she said. "Same parameters, but increase the electrical stimulation by 0.3 percent."
Ted snapped to attention, already pulling on gloves.
Kathleen watched him for a moment before returning to her own console, eyes narrowing slightly.
There was still so much to do but it was time to go home.
She stripped off her gloves and dropped them into the disposal bin. She double-checked the seals on the growth tanks, logged the final oxygenation readings, and slid her iPad into the charging dock by the door.
Everything had to be in its place. It was the only way the world made sense.
"Heading out?" Ted asked from the far bench, where he was still wrestling with the nutrient pumps.
"Yes," Kathleen said. "Tank Three still needs rebalancing. Use the stock solution marked Lot 27. It’s fresher."
Ted nodded, already tapping notes into his tablet. He was competent enough when given clear instructions.
Most people were. It was when they improvised that everything got messy.
