“You see?” Lizzy took Mark’s hand. “I’ll see you later.”
***
Lizzy came to see Mark twice during the day. They had a quick lunch from plastic containers that were brought up by Max. It was simple – turkey sandwiches with some salad – but delicious. After five hours, which Mark spent watching two old movies – Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Godfather, Part 1 – and browsing through some old magazines, they had another plastic container meal. Chicken pasta and cheesecake. Not the Michelin star quality, but passable46. Lizzy did not have enough information to tell Mark what exactly she was doing downstairs, or, rather, what they were doing to her. They spent the minutes they had together comparing Indiana Jones to Tom Lesseck the adventurous geologist and Michael Corleone to Paco De Niro, the cold-blooded mafia boss (the fictional characters from the other world). Lizzy promised to watch the movies Mark grew up with the next time they would be in the Two Moons.
At about 10 pm, Lizzy came up and woke up Mark who apparently found The Sleepless in Seatle too relaxing. Tom was waiting for them downstairs. Lizzy was tired and took a nap all the way back to their cottage, resting her head on Mark’s shoulder. Mark sat without moving, watching the stars through the car window. When they got home, she was still asleep, and Mark took her gently in his hands to the bedroom and covered her with a blanket. When Mark returned to the car to get their coats, Tom told him that he would pick them up at 8 am tomorrow night from the same spot and left. Mark went back to the bedroom, lay down next to Lizzy and watched her peacefully sleeping with a smile on his face before falling asleep as well.
***
The next day went pretty much the same way. Tests for Lizzy and cultural catching-up for Mark (The Shawshank Redemption, Misery, Good Will Hunting, and Pulp Fiction). When it was time to call it a day, Max showed Lizzy a prototype that they had been working on before she went upstairs to get Mark.
“It looks like a regular sports glove,” she said, looking at it.
“That’s the idea,” Max was obviously happy to hear it. “We don’t want people to think that they are looking at a weapon.”
“Is that what it is? A weapon?”
“Of sorts, sure. It’ll be using your blood to destroy the virus.”
“How will it work? I’ll just wear it and what will happen next?”
“The idea is for you to use it without spilling your blood literally, but sending impulses that destroy the virus even through glass. Provided, it’s not bulletproofed, of course.”
“I don’t think I understand that.”
“It sounds a bit science fiction, I know,”
“A bit?”
“You’re right,” Maz laughed. “It sounds a lot like science fictions, but we believe that we’ve found a way to use your blood unique qualities and transform them into, sort of, waves that could penetrate the virus coat, or membrane, split it apart and eventually destroy its molecular compounds. The glove generates the wave and sends it, together with your blood, to do its job.”
“So, hypothetically speaking, someone will have a vial with my blood connected to this glove and do the job.”
“I wish it was that easy. As things stand now, I’m afraid it only works if you wear it. It must be connected to you.”
“Like Ironman’s reactor,” Lizzy said, still looking at the glove. “The proof that Tony Stark has a heart.”
