Sparks by shaundradonna via www.deviantart.com

I was reading an article about a break through with virus’ that have a piezoelectric characteristic and how that might be made to power small electronic devices when they’re shaken or tapped or squeezed. Here’s the story I thought of after reading that article.

Breakthrough

Carla was in her closet lab. The power from the heater came from the family’s allotment; they were all depending on her to figure this out. She checked the next beaker of virus with piezoelectric effect that were breeding on the shelf. According to her logs, this was batch seven hundred and twenty-three. At first she’d bred one batch at a time, test, and start over. It was a four day cycle. Eventually she realized she needed to have a new batch ready every day. It took space and the room had to be kept between sixty-eight degrees and seventy-two degrees. It was hard to do when the electricity shut off to the house at night and didn’t come back on until six in the morning. Then it shut off again at nine a.m. to come back at six. Her brother had helped her set up a heating and cooling system for the room three years ago. He was the one who had acquired the counters and mounted them on three sides of the room and put the shelving up for her, too. She smiled at the memory. The whole extended family was helping as best they could. Now it was up to her.

Good thing the little buggers breed quickly, she thought as she removed the beaker from the shelf. This morning she had sterilized the metal plate she used for her test platform and the beakers and other tools she’d used yesterday. She was ready to test.

The solution needed little preparation. She just had to spread the virus laden liquid across the three by four inch metal plate in a very thin layer and let it dry. She left that on the counter and moved to the batch she’d prepared the night before. The metal plate, similar to the one she’d just set to dry, looked good. There were no clumps. She turned the lights off. The sample didn’t have its own bioluminescence. That was good. While that wasn’t a contest disqualifier, she thought it wouldn’t be as desirable as one that didn’t have that characteristic. She turned the lights back on. Carla made a notation in her log book. She’d had to resort to paper two years ago as the family didn’t have enough power allowance to use a computer. No matter, when she found the right virus, they’d have all the power they needed.

After attaching the electrode leads to the metal and hooking up the volt meter, she picked up the small metal rod she used to test with. All she had to do to test the virus film was tap it. The best result she’d had was twenty-four tests ago. The reading on that test was point five of a volt. This generation of virus was from that batch, weeks ago. “Come on, boys, give me something.” Carla tapped the plate with the rod, eyes on the volt meter.

The needle swung to point eight of a volt. “Hoo!” she shouted. “Nice!”

Becky’s voice came through the door. “Everything all right in there?”

“Yeah, we’re getting close. Not good enough yet, but we’re getting close,” she called back.

She pulled a small vial of that batch of virus, marked it and recorded it in a second lab book. Carla stored it away and took the equipment from that batch to the kitchen. She washed everything in a pan of hot soapy water. The intermittent power was just enough to keep the hot water heater full but used it sparingly. She’d sterilize the equipment later tonight when the power came back on.

Becky, her sister-in-law, and Tayla, her sister, came in from the garden. “Progress?” Tayla asked.

“Some. I’m hopeful, ladies, very hopeful about the next batch.”

Becky asked, “You’re getting close to one volt aren’t you?”

Carla wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. Her eyes sparkled. “I am. This batch,” she motioned to the beakers and other gear on the sterilized towel on the counter, “was point eight.”

The women hooted and gave Carla a hug. “When will you know about the next batch?”

“I’ll let it dry another hour. In the meantime, I’ll get the next one started.” She grinned, “Don’t want to count my chickens.”

The women laughed. Carla went back to her closet.

The next day she was back in the closet. Yesterday’s batch seven hundred and twenty-three was only marginally better than seven twenty-two. “Today, sweet hearts. Give me the whole one point zero today, all right?” she whispered to the beaker and the plate on the counter in front of her. She’d spread the plate with a little of this batch this morning. It was dry, the volt meter was hooked up, her eyes were on the needle. “Come on,” she said as she tapped the metal plate.

The needle swung. She blinked, breath held. Carla tapped it again, then once more. Heart racing, she opened the closet, Tayla, was in the main room, folding blankets. Carla called out. “Look at this.”

Tayla hurried over and stood next to Carla.

“Watch the meter,” Carla told her. She tapped the plate. The needle swung over, Tayla gasped hands over her mouth.

“Do it again.”

Carla tapped again. The needle swung over, one point two volts. She turned to her sister, grinning. “You saw it, right?

Hands still over her mouth, Tayla nodded, eyes filling with tears. Her arms flew out and grabbed Carla. The two women were jumping up and down when Becky came in. “What’s going on?”

“Look,” Tayla pointed.

She hurried over and Carla tapped the plate again. Becky whooped and whirled out into the main room, spinning like a top, whooping and laughing. The others joined her. “You did it, Carla! You did it!”

All she had to do now was run to the library, where power and computers ran all day, and send in her submission to the Government’s contest for Power Generation. The rest would be history.

The End

994 Words

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