Clara worked late into Friday night on her latest project. Crouched over the conventional display panel, looking at the DNA sequencing and process steps she outlined one more time.

  She dawned her ragged, oversized labcoat and grabbed the data cube, clutching it tight to her chest. This is it. This was the run that will complete her thesis and finish up her doctorate.

  She walked across the universities lab space to the bio factory. She stood in front of the largest 3D bio printer, a beast of a machine taking up the majority of lab space, she relented placing the data cube on the control panel. She verified the files loaded correctly and looked over the materials levels. With nothing more to inspect, she pressed the start button.

  Clara pulled up her thesis and went over the draft one more time.

  (Rewrite this as a section in her report?)

  The process was detailed, beginning with no living tissue. It would take four full days of printing while using dozens of materials and catalysts. Her objective was to 3D print a functional plant seed without any starter embryos, or even relying on bacteria or molds. This last step was a bit fudged for her design. She needed to’s will utilize multiple raw byproducts of various simple bacteria and molds that had been shown to be artificially synthesizable.

  Her design was complex and the artificial seed is not as elegant as nature’s seed. She had to use multiple intermediate steps, first creating various bacterium to produce the raw materials for the Testa, or the outer coat, and then also for starting energy. Her Plumule and Micropyle will be electromechanical structures to begin the photosynthesis and hydration. These structures needed to be robust enough to work for weeks, but flexible enough that the artificial plant embryo could develop into a successful Growing Point and Radicle that will sprouting the roots and leaves. Being a biologist Clara’s struggled with the mechanical side of this project, but was still convinced it was the best way forward.

  Completely 3D printing a full functioning seed seems to be as though copying and pasting - though realistically it just needed a top-grade scanner and a premium printer to accomplish. Clara was hopeful that her design will liberate the seed market, enabling working custom seeds to be made by moderate to low end medical grade printer. This seemed like a better starting point to accomplish her goal than, saying, ‘Hey! look at me, I copied mother nature, and it only took an eight-million-dollar system to do it!'

  When Clara returned to the lab the following Tuesday, the bio-printer still whirled away but it was far enough along that she felt comfortable taking a sample now. She pulled up the menu withdrawing four samples. The machine responded, ejected the samples and continued processing the remaining. She loaded the samples into the toxicity analyzer and electron microscope. She sat at the terminal and started the test suite. She opened the first image and gasped. She switched to the toxicity report. Failure. She pulled up the previous reports and compared, this time was worse. Confused she slumped back in the chair. With no more purpose to continue wasting the printers resources she canceled the bio-printers job. Returning to the computer she opened the thesis report, due on Thursday, she had to use the data from this run. She was so sure this would work, having failed she dredged through the report details. Finished with an adequate report she mailed it off to her advisor.

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  The presentation was worse, her advisor was downright hostile and accused her of playing god. She’d never seen him like this and had always heard that he was strict, but fair and rewarding when challenging projects were attempted. He’d even been constructive and provided meaningful feedback to her over her previous meetings. He had also previously reached out to some cutting-edge labs looking at various openings she might be interested in. Clara, her heart sinking, had no idea what happened when she left her thesis presentation.

  Clara paced in her kitchen. She’d attempted making breakfast, and ignoring the disaster on the stove top, tried eating the bowl of cereal. She was sure she could appeal there must be a way. She was still processing what had happened between her failed experiment (which was several steps backwards from the last try) and also her advisors new attitude towards her. She’d tried calling the university and his office with no success. Her mobile buzzed alerting her of a new message. It was from the university, her work to the present wasn’t enough for the accelerated doctors.

  The message read:

  Clara,

  Your scholarship has been revoked. A review by the professor chair and consultation with your advisor has shown your latest work to cross ethical boundaries. We granted you a four years for the work you have completed to date. However, we cannot in good consciousness support your work. Your work at the university has been suspended effective immediately.

  Signed,

  Dean Hubert

  She tried for months to veto or repeal the sudden suspension. She was also flagged at other universities, even outside her sector they denied her enrollment requests. She’d scraped a few credits together to pay a lawyer. He was helpful for a few days and then suddenly it was like he’d won the lottery, some big case had fallen in his lap and he was out of town and unavailable. She looked over her statements and considered finding another lawyer but she couldn’t see how she would afford one.

  This tidal wave of events was so frustrating. Clara, fed up with the sour days, decided she needed a break. She dropped the sad looking bank balance on her counter and picked up her mobile. She booked a table at finer dining location. She had heard it was a hopping spot known for the business CEOs of the tech and bio sector to hang out on occasion. Hopeful she would meet and impress some company executive, she might land a job or at least dine and drink well enough tonight not to care.

  She went to her closet to pick out something nice to wear. She paused at the mirror and scowled, her blue jeans and t-shirts wouldn’t land her a job. She pulled open her dresser drawer, more plain t-shirts. She pulled the next drawer open, sweat pants. She closed them and stepped back, she realized she didn’t have much, too much time in the lab and nothing to show for it. She turned to the hangers and pulled a dress off the rack. She looked at her dress from high school, no way it would fit and uggh, those bright colors. She tossed the dress along with the next two to the corner. She settled business attire, and choose to wear her only knee length skirt.

  With purse and resume in hand she rushed out the door to catch her ride share.

  Clara entered the restaurant, immediately she felt out of place. What was she thinking? Questioning herself she moved to the bar, maybe a drink will help, besides it should be easier to start a conversation at the bar than the tables.