I sick. I got no writing done today. I have fever of 101.3 (AFTER two ibuprofen). I halfway hope I will still have a temperature tomorrow so I can legitimately call in sick. x)
Anyway, this here shidbit I wrote last night. It comes after the post just before this one, but chronologically speaking, it comes before the first one. Confusing, I know. But this way was the only way my muse would allow me write it. :P So to clarify, this happened before the scene with Ryan and Kae.
Total Wordcount: 5463
The feeind Coale Ebon’s gruesomely scarred face scanned the computer document sent to him from an untraceable email account on a public access terminal. Security was tight, but they were necessary measures. When you were the head of a multinational terrorist group, you couldn’t take any risks when communicating with your informants and operatives. Ordinarily Coale would have let one of his cronies check his email for him, but this was important. The message had been flagged with a special indicator which allowed solely Coale’s password to unlock it.
The coal-colored male’s expression was unreadable as he entered the 16-digit code into the computer. A moment later, the document opened, revealing a simple message one would usually think unnecessary to have such tight security.
New product! Enhance your sex drive! Free samples personally delivered to your door within days! Throw away your prescription drugs and try our all-natural product! 100% guaranteed you’ll never go back to the pharmacy again! Operators are standing by!
Coale knew better. The fact alone that the message had been sealed in such a fashion was enough to tell him that the simple phrase was more than it appeared. Something big was on the way. And it would be arriving soon.
---
Four days had passed since the incident at Vitae’s lab. The test subject had had to be kept in a constant near-comatose state or risk serious injury to himself and others. There were several techs trying to draw samples of his blood and take measurements of the phenomenal growth spurt he’d undergone. Where the aya had once stood about four feet tall, the techs estimated his size to now be closer to eight. His hair had become brittle and short, almost quill-like and painful to the touch. Muscle mass had increased exponentially, and it was clear that the aya had lost his mind. If he was allowed to regain any semblance of consciousness, the aya went into a rampage and was only stopped by venting knockout gas into the now-scarred metal chamber. Dr. Rekan and the other scientists were worried what these implications might mean for the aya and for their project, but encouraged that their research had taken such an interesting turn. As with all scientists, they were convinced they would be able to learn from this new challenge, and either overcome it or modify it so that it could ultimately be used for their advantage.
Vitae was less confident. He had left word with the Founders about the event- the mutation, some were calling it- and they hadn’t sounded too happy. However, they encouraged him to keep the project going and again emphasized their request that he keep them updated on any further developments. He had agreed, but the encounter had settled in the pit of his stomach like sour milk. Having the mutated aya in the metal holding cell made him nervous. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a ticking time bomb down there; sooner or later, it was bound to blow and cause loss of both money and life. But Rekan assured him that if that room could withstand the force of an excavation bomb, then it could hold an aya that was not as strong and certainly less explosive. Vitae tried to reason himself into being reassured, but he couldn’t muster the enthusiasm for it. He just had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Especially today. One of the Founders was coming to investigate the issue- and that alone bothered him. Never before had they come to the lab in person, even when they were working on something big. Perhaps the mutation was a bigger problem than anyone had thought. Perhaps the Founders knew something they didn’t. Samples of the mutated aya’s blood and fur had been sent to HQ for their individual analysis, so perhaps something had come up that didn’t register on the lab’s computers. Those Founders knew more about how ayas worked than anyone. Vitae just wished they’d share their knowledge once in a while instead of keeping all the juicy secrets to themselves.
He sat back in his chair and spun to face the window, deep in thought. It wasn’t a real window, it was just an electronic frame in which was a flat screen that displayed random pictures of peaceful backdrops. “To promote peaceful meditation,” the advertisement had said. Vitae didn’t care. He just saw it as a new way to annoy J.J. The frame had come with a few stock photos, but nothing “intellectually stimulating nor calming.” He had given J.J. the droll task of searching for stock photos which fit his fancy. Half of what the intern had come up with was actually pretty good, but for the sole sake of being contrary. Vitae vetoed all but three and sent him off to take some photos himself. “Snag some shots of molecular explosions, or something. Perhaps a video of some frying insects. I want to see those bloodsuckers squirm.” When the obviously compassionate were-aya’s face went pale at the thought, Vitae’s little shoulder-demon began a happy jig. Lab work on live creatures had long since dulled Vitae’s senses toward animal suffering. He figured now was a good a time as ever to expose the intern to Cruelty In the Name Of Science.
Now Vitae watched as a school of fish swam by on the screen. He had thought it too boring, so he had commissioned a video tech to digitally add in the computer-generated form of a hungry gomagon in close pursuit of the fish. With a few strings pulled, the technician even succeeded in having a CGI fish be eaten by the large sea predator. It made Vitae smile. Nothing said science like watching one beast devour another. Survival of the fittest. It also reminded him that if he didn’t chew on J.J.’s butt now and then, the intern would eventually fall prey to a bigger fish- analogically speaking, of course.
The intercom buzzed on Vitae’s desk. One long tapered ear swiveled backwards to catch J.J.’s voice.
“He’s here.”
“Send him in.”
---
The were-aya which met Vitae was not at all what he had expected. But the more he thought about it, the less he knew what to expect in the first place. The Founder came in were-aya form, his fur short, grey, and crisscrossed with scars. Both his muzzle and his paws were dipped in white, while his hair and tailtuft were bleached as well. Overall, the Founder’s appearance was remarkably… unremarkable. It threw the logical rhythm of Vitae’s mind off for a few beats while it tried to assimilate this nonstereotypic individual. It took a bit of effort for the director’s brain to wrap around the idea that the male standing before him was a Founder. A little alarm bell rang in his mind. Since when do founders ever make personal visits to research labs? Something with the vaccination project must be very serious indeed.
“Dr. Olikanervitae,” a surprisingly normal-sounding voice spoke as the gray male came toward Vitae’s desk. “You run a tight ship. I must have been scanned three times before I was let in the door.”
Vitae chuckled. “Please, call me Vitae. And yes, security is tight. We’ve had some thefts and mistaken identities in the past that we don’t want repeated. But your credentials should have--“
“My credentials only cover me as far as couriers can be, Doctor.”
“Couriers?”
“Yes, sir. You were expecting someone else?”
“No, but-“
“Forgive me for being frank, Dr. Vitae, but the Founders are much too busy to make house calls in person. They sent me here on their behalf to get the skinny on your research project and then return. You have to understand, they are running an entire planet. Not much time for road trips.”
Vitae’s mind had to readjust once more to the realization that no, this wasn’t a Founder- the male was only a proxy. “Well then, ah… what should I call you, then?”
“Zey,” came the reply. “And forgive me, but I am on a tight schedule.”
“Yes, of course, forgive me.” Vitae eyed the scarred male, now unsure of what to think about the courier at all. However, if he was working on behalf of the Founders, he carried their authority with him and so could very easily have him fired. Better treat the guy like royalty, even if his impatience did get on Vitae’s nerves. “Come this way.”
The khochete led the proxy through the facility and down to the underground lab in which the gomal-quenaya vaccination project was centered. He paused in the computer room, showed the proxy some things about the security level of the building, and got him a temporary pass into the exclusive staff-only area of the lab where all the information concerning the project was held. It was a quick trip- Vitae had only to copy the file onto a disc for the proxy to take with him back to the Founders. Per Zey’s request on their way out Vitae took him by the station which monitored the unconscious test subject. The director could tell that Zey was impressed, and took some time to answer several of the scarred grey male’s questions. Something interesting to note, Vitae thought, was the fact that Zey’s questions were very specific and used correct terminology- as if he had spent years studying genetics and biology himself. It was a curious matter, but Vitae passed it off as simple terms and curiosities that the courier must have picked up around the office. Working with the Founders certainly must have exposed him to a lot of different technical terms, and any feline worth his salt naturally would ask questions. Eventually, however, Zey’s well of curiosity seemed to run dry, and Vitae was more than happy to escort him to the door to ensure he ran into no more trouble with security. As pumped as it made his ego to have the answer to almost all of the courier’s questions, after a certain amount of time, constant badgering for information grew tiresome.
After Zey had left, Vitae returned to his office and sank finally into his padded desk chair. A sigh of relief escaped his throat and he took a moment to lean back and stare at the ceiling. He felt drained. Too much knowledge leaving his brain and not enough coming in. It was time to soothe his frazzled nerves with a little intern harassment. He hit the intercom button.
“J.J., get in here. I’m tired of looking at a white office. Get a bucket of eggshell paint in here, immediately.” A good twenty minutes later a frazzled-looking intern bustled into the room with two buckets of paint. Vitae immediately sat straight up in his chair and glared at the boy. “You incompetent immigrant, I said eggshell! This is light ivory! Get it right! And when you get back, I don’t want you to leave this office until you have put at least three coats on every wall- and you had better not get any paint on my furniture, or I’ll have your spinal cord as a belt!”