Free Replication by Jill Williamson

you’re not going to help, you can find yourself another lab partner.”
    His eyebrows rose in innocent protest. “I’m a straight-A student too, remember? Valedictorian?”
    “Right. Well, are you interested in any disease in particular? Because if you’re not, I—”
    “Lupus.”
    “Really?” Abby blinked, surprised how quickly he’d spat out the word. “Do you know someone with lupus?”
    JD frowned. “You think that’ll get us extra credit?”
    “I doubt it, but if we could interview someone—”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know anyone.” He straightened in his chair, scratched his neck, cleared his throat, and fidgeted until he crossed his arms back over his chest.
    O-kay. Talk about your tells. Wonder boy was exhibiting some serious lying symptoms.
    And under her penetrating gaze, JD’s ears pinked. “I don’t really care what we do.”
    “Lupus is fine with me. I don’t know all that much about it.” Which was a major pro. She’d finally have something to focus her energy on.
    He loosened up again and delivered a smile that could thaw the deepest freeze. “Why don’t you come to my house later and we could—”
    She shot him a scowl.
    “—study.” His smile drooped. “Or not.” Then he laughed, the dopiest laugh Abby had ever heard. Much worse than Kylee’s snort.
    Good grief. Jock boy’s geek was showing.
    Abby hung out at the school library for a few hours after school, looking for books on lupus. There weren’t many. They also didn’t keep any newspapers past four years old. She checked out the couplebooks they did have then took the scenic route home, driving past Jason Farms.
    She pulled her BMW into the parking lot and eased into an empty space between a Lexus and a Land Rover. Nice cars; Jason Farms must pay well. She bit her lip and tapped her gloved fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the dark opening in the barn where one of the big doors was propped open with a mound of snow.
    Maybe they were working on something to do with cloning fruit or vegetables. Something to help the FDA? She turned off the engine and the cab chilled almost instantly without the fan blowing heat in her face. Not exactly ideal weather for growing vegetation. She pulled her hood strings tight around her chin, wrenched open the door, and walked toward the barn.
    Just a quick peek.
    Her breath puffed out in front like exhaust. Her nylon bomber jacket rustled with every swing of her arms or turn of her head. She stepped through the large entry onto a concrete floor and pushed off her hood to get a better look around. The floor was entirely concrete, the barn itself vast and empty except for stacks of mildewed hay bales. A wide, steel vault door stood to her left, a keycard slot perched on the wall beside it.
    High security. Not your everyday barn.
    Further down the wall that held the mysterious vault door were several aluminum storage cabinets. Abby opened one. Oddly enough, they weren’t locked.
    The first revealed nothing but canned cauliflower. Weird. The second cabinet was filled with cartons of dried goods: instant mashed potatoes, boxes of pasta, napkins, and plastic spoons.
    The next held nothing but diapers in all sizes. Lots and lots of diapers.
    Perhaps they had chimps behind that Fort Knox door. Her toes clenched in the bottom of her boots. Had Dad gone from one unethical lab to another? Jason Farms sure looked like it had something to hide.
    The last door was steel, about two-feet wide by three feet high, and opened at waist level. A track ran along the wall on the oppositeside, descending underground. She leaned in and peeked down a dark hole, where only a tiny crack of light shone somewhere below. She spotted a switch on the outer wall beside the door and was tempted to flip it. She laughed to herself. Surely there was nothing to be afraid of. It was a dumbwaiter, a shortcut designed to take the food and supplies down below.
    But why did they need so much food and supplies down