Churchill held the vial of Memnon and absently gazed across the lab. He didn’t like being so dependent on West. One man could make or break him. This hadn’t been a problem until West started this business of entering bodies. Was that just a story?
But something had changed. Up until this point, West had jumped through time with no complications. He brought back the information Churchill wanted and he woke up fine. But now? These heart problems seemed directly related to West’s new endeavors.
Churchill had reviewed hours of West’s tapes. What sounded like gibberish made sense if you gave credence to his claims that he inhabited bodies. And that stupid little nurse, she corroborated what West was doing, fantastic as it sounded.
Making a decision, Churchill reached into a cabinet for a syringe. He tore off the sterile packaging and charged the syringe with 25cc of Memnon. Without pausing to reconsider, he slid the needle into a vein in his forearm and depressed the plunger. Nervously, he waited for some change in his vision or his consciousness. Nothing happened. After five minutes, he left the lab. Maybe he needed a larger dose? He’d try that tomorrow.