Introducing
******
Matt Dalvin was, spiritedly, at the wheel of his metalized green sedan, going fast across the speedway. He was making 80 an hour, and at that speed, in such a well-preserved road, he should be there in a few minutes. He had just gone past Coupland, some 3,5 miles (5,7 Km) behind, and was approaching Uhra Town via the Northwest InterState 110.
The boring view was nothing more than woods and more woods, although he had noticed the stranded truck on the right side of the route a while back. Nevertheless, it definitely wasn't the landscape which had brought him to this remote region of the country.
He could already make out the contour of buildings, at far. Perfect.
After heading by the next pass, driving through the spur... he'd reach the 'rendezvous' point.
His light grey business suit, with its matching tie, his favourite, coupled with his smoothy movements and his rugged southern accent concealed his cold anxiety. And the heat was of no help whatsoever. He could never owe too much to his state-of-the-art automobile's air-conditioning system.
And the radio; the soothing power ballads playing on helped him keep focused. As a prominent corporate officer of «ZoarMadim -- Genetic Engineering», he was about to strike a checkmate on the competing companies' future aspirations.
With such a move, he could finally get the investors to trust him, and topple the Head of the corporation. Under his grip..... the first thing to do would be to rename the company. He had always been dissentive of such a disparaging name.
He certainly was an ambitious man, and his mid-late thirties snarl could attest to that. An assertive ego in an average man, with a swarthy complexion and a thin beard growing.
His blond hair cut short, perfectly trimmed, soaked in gel.
The almond eyes, with little expression and a small mouth, with smaller teeth.
A short nose.
It wasn't much a matter of luck as it was confidence. Confidence and anticipation. That was his motto. All that was needed was intent and desire to win. At all costs.
But he had to be careful.
This transaction was illegal -- something that had never stopped him before.
The mole was quite efficient. The informations allowed him to undertake strategic planning. Soon, his biggest competitor in the market, Mikusu and his operative, would fall within his mercy.
And the merge with the Astraea could become a reality.
The plan was to get Mikusu slated by his own peers, for incompetence.
In business, luck has to be made.
He went on, stepping up to full throttle.
******
- So, do you know a way out of here? - Dan finally broke the silence, right from offhand.
He suspected that the man somehow thought of him as a fellow scientist, and he could use such to an advantage.
They had departed from the lot filled with crates, and unused equipment and were now treading a field of sorts, naturally an extension of the mound Dan had explored earlier.
This field, though, provided a camouflage to indiscreet eyes, in the form grass the was growing to the height of Dan's waist.
This grass, with stripes inserted on the leaves, was covering the whole terrain in clumps, however, a bit ahead Dan could now make out a sort of tower, like the one of a lighthouse, but smaller.
Sagi took out, from a pocket in his waistcoat, a pack of cigarettes and, using his mouth, pulled one of the few cylinders remaining. He put the pack back in the pocket and removed now a lighter. At his third try, he finally managed to light the cigarrete, and a thin puff of smoke began rising vertically. Then he, without stopping progressing on, asked Dan:
- Are you sure you're alright? - he threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, extinguishing it - The fall you had was quite nasty; I can never repent enough for your sores.
Dan could be better:
- This town, all of this region.... what's happening here is positively dantesque, demented beyond anything that could come from human imagination! All the people...what took place... what's happening.... it's just so sordid...
Sagi made a comprehending expression. He could do nothing but agree: all of this horror scenery was nothing short of unnatural.
The old man quietly slowed down his pace and observed his companion. Attentively, he faced Dan:
- In fact; and what about Dr. Fox, from same W wing? And any of the other people? Did you meet anyone? Any good news?
Dan didn't answer right away. Tricky questions.
- No, nothing.....- jittery, he coughed smoothly and immediately inquired trying to convey a casual interest - and what about the V wing?
The doctor turned, facing away, and, ridden with anxiety, but always walking he talked:
- Who are you? I realize I've never posited the question previously... And you aren't who I thought you were at first.
Dan got surprised by the sudden insight of the man:
- What... what do you mean?
Sagi, without warning, stopped in the middle of the grass and, composing a wistful countenance, he again faced Dan:
- To begin with, the mere fact that you're alive. And every fellow geneticist, biomolecular engineer and others affiliated with the project know that the SCRAP is the emergency stronghold. And, also that, although I was rather more embraced with the V wing due to some specifics, my competences obliged me to have a, even if superficial, knowledge of everyone involved. Not to comment the total disregard of my mention about your phenotypic changes. Also, there isn't any Dr. Fox working in the project, specially in that wing. I do not know who you are, but it's certain that that lab coat isn't your belonging.
Dan grimaced in dismay.
- No, young fellow, there's no need to be awkward...!
Dan's stuttering reaction was:
- Behind... behind you!!!
The man faced back to see shadows rising from the grass. These four creatures were different from the 'centaurs', with a lighter tone in the skin, resembling wheat, and seemingly a mix between a platypus and a small buffalo.
Matt Dalvin was, spiritedly, at the wheel of his metalized green sedan, going fast across the speedway. He was making 80 an hour, and at that speed, in such a well-preserved road, he should be there in a few minutes. He had just gone past Coupland, some 3,5 miles (5,7 Km) behind, and was approaching Uhra Town via the Northwest InterState 110.
The boring view was nothing more than woods and more woods, although he had noticed the stranded truck on the right side of the route a while back. Nevertheless, it definitely wasn't the landscape which had brought him to this remote region of the country.
He could already make out the contour of buildings, at far. Perfect.
After heading by the next pass, driving through the spur... he'd reach the 'rendezvous' point.
His light grey business suit, with its matching tie, his favourite, coupled with his smoothy movements and his rugged southern accent concealed his cold anxiety. And the heat was of no help whatsoever. He could never owe too much to his state-of-the-art automobile's air-conditioning system.
And the radio; the soothing power ballads playing on helped him keep focused. As a prominent corporate officer of «ZoarMadim -- Genetic Engineering», he was about to strike a checkmate on the competing companies' future aspirations.
With such a move, he could finally get the investors to trust him, and topple the Head of the corporation. Under his grip..... the first thing to do would be to rename the company. He had always been dissentive of such a disparaging name.
He certainly was an ambitious man, and his mid-late thirties snarl could attest to that. An assertive ego in an average man, with a swarthy complexion and a thin beard growing.
His blond hair cut short, perfectly trimmed, soaked in gel.
The almond eyes, with little expression and a small mouth, with smaller teeth.
A short nose.
It wasn't much a matter of luck as it was confidence. Confidence and anticipation. That was his motto. All that was needed was intent and desire to win. At all costs.
But he had to be careful.
This transaction was illegal -- something that had never stopped him before.
The mole was quite efficient. The informations allowed him to undertake strategic planning. Soon, his biggest competitor in the market, Mikusu and his operative, would fall within his mercy.
And the merge with the Astraea could become a reality.
The plan was to get Mikusu slated by his own peers, for incompetence.
In business, luck has to be made.
He went on, stepping up to full throttle.
******
- So, do you know a way out of here? - Dan finally broke the silence, right from offhand.
He suspected that the man somehow thought of him as a fellow scientist, and he could use such to an advantage.
They had departed from the lot filled with crates, and unused equipment and were now treading a field of sorts, naturally an extension of the mound Dan had explored earlier.
This field, though, provided a camouflage to indiscreet eyes, in the form grass the was growing to the height of Dan's waist.
This grass, with stripes inserted on the leaves, was covering the whole terrain in clumps, however, a bit ahead Dan could now make out a sort of tower, like the one of a lighthouse, but smaller.
Sagi took out, from a pocket in his waistcoat, a pack of cigarettes and, using his mouth, pulled one of the few cylinders remaining. He put the pack back in the pocket and removed now a lighter. At his third try, he finally managed to light the cigarrete, and a thin puff of smoke began rising vertically. Then he, without stopping progressing on, asked Dan:
- Are you sure you're alright? - he threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, extinguishing it - The fall you had was quite nasty; I can never repent enough for your sores.
Dan could be better:
- This town, all of this region.... what's happening here is positively dantesque, demented beyond anything that could come from human imagination! All the people...what took place... what's happening.... it's just so sordid...
Sagi made a comprehending expression. He could do nothing but agree: all of this horror scenery was nothing short of unnatural.
The old man quietly slowed down his pace and observed his companion. Attentively, he faced Dan:
- In fact; and what about Dr. Fox, from same W wing? And any of the other people? Did you meet anyone? Any good news?
Dan didn't answer right away. Tricky questions.
- No, nothing.....- jittery, he coughed smoothly and immediately inquired trying to convey a casual interest - and what about the V wing?
The doctor turned, facing away, and, ridden with anxiety, but always walking he talked:
- Who are you? I realize I've never posited the question previously... And you aren't who I thought you were at first.
Dan got surprised by the sudden insight of the man:
- What... what do you mean?
Sagi, without warning, stopped in the middle of the grass and, composing a wistful countenance, he again faced Dan:
- To begin with, the mere fact that you're alive. And every fellow geneticist, biomolecular engineer and others affiliated with the project know that the SCRAP is the emergency stronghold. And, also that, although I was rather more embraced with the V wing due to some specifics, my competences obliged me to have a, even if superficial, knowledge of everyone involved. Not to comment the total disregard of my mention about your phenotypic changes. Also, there isn't any Dr. Fox working in the project, specially in that wing. I do not know who you are, but it's certain that that lab coat isn't your belonging.
Dan grimaced in dismay.
- No, young fellow, there's no need to be awkward...!
Dan's stuttering reaction was:
- Behind... behind you!!!
The man faced back to see shadows rising from the grass. These four creatures were different from the 'centaurs', with a lighter tone in the skin, resembling wheat, and seemingly a mix between a platypus and a small buffalo.
posted by tensayoki @ 13:52
