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Already onboard were two other passengers, Mr. Stevens and an older gentleman sitting in a chair across the aisle from him. Dressed in a suit that had to date back to at least the early eighties, and with a stoic look on his face, he reminded Nysa of a history professor she’d had in college. As walked down the aisle both stood. Mr. Stevens greeted and introduced her.
    “Dr. Knight, welcome aboard. This is Dr. Shannon Leyden. Dr. Leyden, Dr. Knight. You two will be working closely together on this project. Dr. Leyden specializes in the reconstruction of fragmented DNA; Dr. Knight specializes in the extraction of said DNA from difficult samples. As I’m sure you two have speculated, we will be cloning something very unique. Dr. Knight, may I get you a drink?”
    “Yes, please,” Nysa replied. “What do you have?”
    “Whatever you would like, Dr. Knight. We have a fully stocked bar on board.”
    “A vodka and cranberry, please,” Nysa replied politely.
    Mr. Stevens walked the short distance to the bar, poured her a drink, and brought it back to her. He handed it to her as she continued standing, awestruck with the beauty of the aircraft. It didn’t surprise her that the glass in her hand appeared to be made of crystal and was of an elegantly intricate design. She took a small sip and continued to survey the cabin.
    Mr. Stevens made his way back toward the front of the plane. “If there is anything else either of you would like during the trip, please let me know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let the pilot know we are ready to depart.” The lawyer disappeared into the cockpit.
    Nysa took an empty seat and buckled herself in. Mr. Stevens returned to his seat and sat down, behind Nysa and across from Dr. Leyden. During the flight, Nysa turned her seat around, and she and Mr. Stevens made small talk. Dr. Leyden was aloof, keeping mostly to himself. They all avoided the issue of the project, an unspoken understanding that the questions that could be answered would be addressed tomorrow.
    Nysa’s insides were in complete turmoil as she contemplated the task ahead of her. Would she be able to do the tasks assigned to her? Would the project be a success? What would become of her afterward? Would Alastair still be waiting for her? She fidgeted and squirmed in her seat as she pondered these questions. While not wanting to get smashed before her arrival at the facility, Nysa allowed herself two more drinks in an attempt to relax.
    The flight and landing were smooth, and the plane was met by a town car at the Colorado Springs Airport. The luggage was moved from the Cessna and the three of them climbed into the car, Mr. Stevens taking the passenger seat.
    They drove in silence, heading north toward Denver on I-25. Every now and then, Nysa would steal a glance over at Dr. Leyden. He appeared to be deeply engrossed in his study of the back of the driver’s head. A tall lanky man, he had to be uncomfortable with his long legs pressed into the back of the driver’s seat. If he was, he gave no indication of it. The only time he ever moved was to slick back his short grey hair or to smooth his goatee.
    Nysa found the landscape breathtaking. Coming from Los Angeles, she had grown accustomed to graffiti and trash as the primary sights on her drives around the city. Out here it was completely absent. It had recently snowed and the peaks of the Rockies glistened as the afternoon sun glided slowly toward their summits. She sat and stared as they drove past the rolling hills and small towns of Colorado. They were quaint and cute, apparently untouched by the evils of big-city life.
    Another thing that amazed her was the lack of traffic at this hour. Had they been on the 405, they would never have gotten above thirty, but they rolled along at a steady seventy-five miles per hour. They exited just south of Denver, Exit 191 according to the freeway sign, and headed west toward the Rockies. Odd, Nysa thought, that an off-ramp wouldn’t