Saturday, May 14, 2011

Story IIIe

{Author's Note: This is the first of the new continuation of this M&M tale of high-adventure/horror/etc. since the break off a year or so ago. The direction has changed slightly but we're still headed to the same neighborhood as my original intent.}

Major Thompson looked at the subject with disdain. It had developed a respiratory problem overnight. Marissa had been up with it all night, checking on the pup's progress every twenty minutes or so while going through all the notes and test results. She couldn't find any obvious reasons for this setback but it shouldn't be seen as a major problem moving forward. This subject was still viable and there was no reason to think any of the others would have similar problems.

The Major did not agree. Since taking over the project from General Hawke, the Major had been cautiously optimistic but deliberately circumspect in his comments to the project's civilian staff members. Some of the staff had realized he was playing it safe but others chose to take his comments as encouragement or enthusiasm. Marissa was in the latter group.

"Doctor Jones, your contributions to the project are much appreciated, but this subject needs to be destroyed. I doubt the flaws can be sufficiently overcome to make the effort worthwhile. I will allow the others to be carried to term, but any flaws in them will lead to the same outcome. Good night." With that he was stiffly out the door and on the way out of the complex.

Marissa had argued her best to give the subject more time. Her whole view of the Major changed in that encounter. He became an obstacle to her efforts. This project had become her life's work and she would not let it go without a fight.

"Doctor Jones, do you want me to handle it? The nurse knew how hard it was for Marissa to handle this sort of thing.

"No, Marcie, I'll do it. You can go home now. We'll come at it fresh tomorrow."

Marissa had no intention of destroying the subject. She went to her office and grabbed a duffle bag the pup would fit in comfortably. As she was approaching the security checkpoint at the exit the ceiling exploded...

"Doc? I'm gonna have to ask you the standard questions when we have a situation like this. Are you ready to answer them fully?" Mychala had her pistols trained on Futhark, she wasn't quite sure what she was going to do if he answered incorrectly.

Futhark reached up and pulled the tentacle clump out of his ear, examining it with interest. "That would be very helpful if we had standard questions for this sort of situation. Remind me to look into that later, will you?" He smiled with that twinkle in his eyes that Mychala had come to count on when things were getting out of hand. It let her know that everything would turn out relatively well in the end.

"Now we need to find a very old friend of the Prolix Associates. You see the creature travelled a very long way to alert our old friend of a danger coming this way."

Mychala holstered her pistols. "How do you know that? Some sort of 'mind-meld' process to get the point across more accurately than its vocal attempts?"

"More or less, yes. The creature came from a distant civilization that is actually rather cosmically close. Our old friend helped them with another problem long ago. The problem is it's ever so difficult to find Elmar Kall when one really needs him. He tends to show up on his own schedule."

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