Unnatural cell structure

Blair hovered over the microscope. He put a new slide under the clips, examined it carefully, and frowned. Pulling away, he rubbed his eyes, then pressed the right one to the eyepiece for a second look.

"Doc. Come here a second."

Copper walked over and took the biologist's place at the instrument as Blair stepped aside. The doctor gazed at the slide for a long time, then stood back and shrugged.

"I don't understand. What's that supposed to be?" he said, gesturing at the microscope and its contents.

By way of reply Blair stepped around him and walked over to the badly disfigured corpse, which now lay on the center table. As Copper followed him, Fuchs took the opportunity to look into the microscope. Blair indicated one of the stiff, tendonlike growths that protruded from the central mass of dark, viscous material and partially dissolved flesh, then
pointed back toward the microscope.

"It's tissue from one of these sinewy rods."

Copper accepted that. "What did you stain it with?"

"Nothing." He looked over to his assistant.

Fuchs glanced back at them, as thoroughly befuddled by what he saw through the eyepiece as his associates were. "What in the world kind of cell structure is this?"

"Precisely my point," Blair said grimly.

"You posed a question, not a point."

"Can't they be the same?"

Copper interrupted the two scientists. "I don't follow you, Blair. What are you trying to say?"

"That I'm not sure it's any kind of cell structure. Biologically speaking."

"If it's a tissue sample, there has to be cell structure," said Copper.

"Does there?"

"If there isn't, then the material is inorganic."

"Is it?"

"You can't have organic material devoid of cell structure," the doctor added exasperatedly.

"Can't you?"

Copper gave up. "Look, this really isn't my field, Blair. I'm a simple GP. I do my best to repair the known, not decipher the exotic. Let's wrap it up for the day. I'm tired of cutting."

"So am I," added Fuchs wholeheartedly.

Copper unbuttoned his coat, which was no longer clean and white but instead resembled a Jackson Pollock canvas. He tossed it into the laundry bin on his way out the door. Fuchs followed him, disposing of his gloves. His lab coat was still relatively elean.

Blair held back, returning to his desk to take one last look through the microscope. The peculiar pattern under the eyepiece hadn't changed, hadn't in the absence of attention metamorphosed into something comfortingly familiar. Copper's confusion was understandable.

The biologist was badly mixed up himself.