Chapter 12
After getting a good night’s sleep, Birkin came to work the next morning feeling more refreshed and optimistic than he had in days. It surprised his employees to find that he was actually in something that resembled a good mood. He called everyone into the main lab at the start of the day and set out their new work plan.
“We’re abandoning the tests with VN-68 and Progenitor-K,” he announced. “We might continue those experiments at some point in the future, but right now I think it’s a waste of our time. I want to start fresh with some new lines of research.”
All of the scientists revealed shock at his decision, but only one of them had the courage to raise his hand. “Sir? We already redesigned Lab Four to handle the project.”
“Don’t worry about Lab Four. We can leave it like it is.”
“But … but why stop the project?”
Birkin stared at the young man and he retreated, expecting Birkin to lash out at him, as Birkin always did when someone dared to contradict him. But this time, Birkin merely grinned and said, “Because I’ve had an epiphany. I think we’ve been going about this all wrong.”
For years, the research teams under Birkin’s supervision had very gradually altered different strains of the Progenitor. They had about a dozen different strains now, all designated with letters, such as Progenitor-K and Progenitor-N. They were all heavily flawed, like the Progenitor itself. They killed their host and resurrected them as second-stage, but in different ways and at different rates, and the second-stage hosts varied in several categories. The Progenitor-H, for example, killed the host faster than normal by preventing oxygen from reaching vital tissues, and when it resurrected the host in the second-stage, the host was completely paralyzed in all cases. The Progenitor-L, as another example, killed the host more gradually and resurrected it almost immediately after death, so quick was the transition from first- to second-stage that the research crew still had not pinned it down precisely. All of the variants, regardless of their other differences, still killed the host and were therefore useless for what Birkin had in mind.
But they had also developed two unique viruses developed over several years, called R-virus and G-virus, named that way to put them in the same category as Wesker’s revolutionary T-virus. The T-virus had been developed by breeding leeches until the Progenitor bonded with their DNA, although Birkin didn’t know that until years later. Using that same methodology, the lab created the the R-virus and G-virus by breeding host animals. The R-virus was developed by breeding earthworms, and the G-virus was based on common garter snakes. They probably could have continued to create more and more new viruses in this way, but it was a laborious and time-consuming project, and once the results proved just as unstable and mutative as the T-virus, Birkin chose to end the projects.
But the Progenitor had been the focus of intense study by Umbrella for more than thirty years, and they had still not cracked it. It occurred to Birkin that maybe the power of those new viruses could be harnessed in a way that the Progenitor could not. One crucial fact about the T-virus that was often overlooked was that, technically, it did not kill its host. Of course, the resulting mutation killed the host in many cases, and making a biological distinction between a Tyrant and a regular second-stage host was pointless as far as their research was concerned. It could be said that while the T-virus might not technically kill the host, it did something far worse than that.
As Birkin laid out the new research plans, he watched as the other scientists warmed up to the project. A few of them made excellent suggestions right away. Birkin outlined three main avenues of research and split his team up accordingly.
The more promising of the two viruses was the G-virus. Even compared to the T-virus, the G-virus was explosively mutative, drastically altering the host’s form less than an hour after exposure. It initiated random growths all over the host body, but in all their experiments, the host’s biological processes remained active for an extended period, until the mutations eventually broke down the host’s body until it could no longer function. Once the host’s internal organs began to suffer from mutations as well, the host typically died of organ failure. The mutation was random, unlike the T-virus, but Birkin took that as a good sign. It might be possible to deal with random mutation. And at least organ failure was a relatively straightforward cause of death.
They already had hundreds, if not thousands, of variant enzymes and other substances in the lab that they combined with the various Progenitor strains to create different results. VN-68 was one of them, but there was also VN-01 through VN-90, among others.
They spent the rest of the morning reviewing their test results for a long list of variant enzymes and even specific Progenitor strains that might react well with the G-virus. The most promising among them would be subject to a new range of tests. If they could find a way to slow or even stop the insane mutation rate of the G-virus, it would open up all kinds of possibilities.
Birkin wondered why he had abandoned research into the G-virus in the first place, but he knew the real reason. Working with the G-virus made him feel like he was following the same path that Wesker took. All these years, Birkin believed that the Progenitor was the key. Straying from that central belief was difficult for him. Developing an even more unstable virus was the kind of work they did in the Arklay lab, with their Tyrants and hunters and all the other monsters Wesker had created over the years. Birkin hated to think that he was giving in to that kind of scientific impulse, so he stopped work on the G-virus and R-virus out of personal pride.
But this morning, he felt energized. He didn’t know why, but he felt like this was a real turning point. Maybe this new research into the G-virus wasn’t going to work out, but just getting started gave him a rush of anticipation that he hadn’t felt in years. He’d spent too long drudging through failed test after failed test with the Progenitor, and it made him cynical. Starting fresh on a completely new project made him feel optimistic.
Birkin drank his coffee black, one cup an hour. It took most of the day to even sort out their old test results and decide which variants held the most promise. Birkin reviewed hundreds of pages of data and hurried through the lab, giving directions. One team began preparing numerous samples of the G-virus for the tests to come. Another group finished all their previous tests and made room for the new experiments. By late afternoon, they finally had a concrete plan of attack. One of the scientists went out for fast food, and Birkin ordered a hamburger.
As he chewed on it, scanning some old test results on the G-virus, one of his assistants poked his head into the room. “Dr. Birkin, your wife is on the phone. Line three.”
“Okay,” Birkin said, setting the hamburger down.
He picked up the phone receiver and pressed the button for line three. “Hello, honey.”
“I wanted to give you a call,” Annette said. “I hope I didn’t miss anything important at the lab today.”
Birkin smiled and sipped his coffee. “Oh, we had a few developments. I can tell you about it later.”
“Thank you for sticking around this morning to see Sherry off to school.”
“It’s no problem.”
“Your friend Wesker called here.”
That stunned him momentarily. Birkin set the cup of coffee down, almost spilling it on himself. “Really? Did he say why he called?”
“No, he just asked if you were here. I told him you were at the lab, like always.”
Birkin hadn’t talked to Wesker in years. Ever since the training facility was shut down and the two of them went off to different labs, they had little reason to communicate. Their contact in the last ten years consisted of equipment requests or the occasional progress report. As a matter of common courtesy, they regularly sent reports detailing the work they were doing at the time, but they were impersonal communications. Birkin couldn’t even remember the last time they had actually spoken to each other in p
erson.
“He didn’t call here. That’s very strange.”
“I didn’t even know that he knew our home number.”
“Neither did I,” Birkin muttered. Why in the world would Wesker call him at home but not at the lab? Was something wrong?
“But anyway,” Annette said with a sigh, “I guess it would be silly of me to ask you if you plan on coming home tonight.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Almost six o’clock,” she replied, and then added hopefully, “I could throw something in the oven if you want. We have leftover spaghetti, too.”
Birkin rubbed his chin and looked down at the pile of papers on his desk. There was really no reason for him to stay the night, since they hadn’t even started any of the tests yet. Half of his team had already gone home for the night. Some of them chose to stay late to get the samples prepared for the first new test runs, but they would probably head home by eight or nine. There was really nothing Birkin could accomplish on his own.
“Are you still there, Will?”
“I’m here, I was just thinking. I’ll tell you what. Let me call you back in half an hour. I’ll see if I can set some things up to run without me. Maybe I’ll be home tonight.”
“Are you serious?” Annette asked, the surprise in her voice evident.
He tossed his half-eaten hamburger in the trash. “Of course,” he said. “You know I’m always serious. It’ll give me a chance to update you about what’s going on at the lab.”
“Okay, that sounds great,” she said, cautiously optimistic. “Call me back in half an hour and let me know. Should I tell Sherry?”
“Not yet. Let it be a surprise.”
“Okay, I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“Bye, honey. Talk to you soon.”
He hung up the phone but didn’t let go of it. Instead, he picked it back up and held his hand over the number pad, thinking to himself. He started to dial a number and then stopped and hung up instead. He sat back and stared across his desk.
Why would Wesker call him at home? If he wanted to talk, he would have called the lab. But he didn’t call the lab, and that made Birkin suspicious. Just receiving a call from Wesker at all made him suspicious. Wesker called him at home for a reason.
He didn’t want the other scientists to know he called. That was the only logical reason. But why would he care about that? Almost no one at the lab even knew who Wesker was. None of them had ever worked at the Arklay facility, although many of them knew about it. They wouldn’t bat an eye if someone named Wesker called for him.
Something had to be wrong. Wesker needed his help, and he didn’t want to make it official by calling him at work. That didn’t make much sense either, though. What could possibly have come up that Wesker couldn’t handle by himself? Wesker never asked for help without good reason. Something important must be going on for him to call.
Birkin looked at the phone again, desperately wanting to know what Wesker was up to. But maybe he didn’t want to call Wesker on his work phone, just in case. He did own a cell phone, but he kept it in his car in case of emergencies.
Making his decision, he got up and notified his team that he’d be leaving for the night. Some of the other scientists would stay later to finish their work, so for the first time in more than a year, he was not the last person to leave the lab.
He phoned Annette and gave her the good news.