What happened next sounded like the end of the world. As the first set of shelves crashed against the second, like a row of massive steel‑and‑glass dominoes, each subsequent tower tipped and fell against the next, and on and on.
All the while, as the tumbling racks were spewing flammable solvents across the smoky lab space, they were ripping out electrical wiring and sending sparks flying.
The whole danger‑dynamic of the room had been turned upside down. Katherine Starr and Debra and David now lay pinned beneath a tangled mass of angle‑iron supports that had collapsed in the wake of the falling shelves. All three appeared to be unconscious.
Winston Bartlett was at the far end of the room. He'd been slammed against the wall by the force of the explosion but was pulling himself up. He seemed to be unhurt, though it was hard to see through the billowing smoke.
Karl Van de Vliet was standing in the middle of the laboratory, his eyes glazed, flames and smoke swirling about him.
What does this mean to him? Ally wondered. Years of research data being obliterated in an instant.
But the horror wasn't over. The fire was depleting the hermetically sealed room's oxygen. Ally sensed that anybody who didn't get out of the lab in the next five minutes wasn't going to be going anywhere standing up.
But what was happening with Kristen? She was walking through the flames as though on a country stroll. It was like the fires of hell were all around her and she was ambling through them unscathed. She must be experiencing third‑degree burns, Ally thought, yet there’s a sense that nothing can harm her. How could it be?
And then an astonishing possibility began to dawn on her. With the stem cell enzymes working at full blast, was it possible her body was immediately replacing its damaged cells? Could it be that the telomerase enzyme didn't know the difference between a cell that had aged and one that had been damaged by its environment?
"Jesus," Stone said, finally stirring, "what's—"