This choice: At a lab where you intern, where they're being studied • Go Back...Chapter #4At a lab where you intern, where they're be... by: citywalker   This is your fourth month volunteering as a janitor at the White Cliffs Research Lab. It's a rather thankless job, basically amounting to little more than custodial work at this point: cleaning up after experiments, keeping tabs of materials and ingredients to make sure they didn't run out, and occasionally transcribing the barely-legible scribblings of the researchers into a computer database. Rather mindless, really, and you had been thinking about quitting since basically the time you started.
That is, until today - the day Pyrhus came along.
You happen to be working an overnight shift, mopping the floors, when a loud alarm starts blaring throughout the labs, and yellow lights start flashing all around. It startles you at first, but as the barebones team that's there with you starts running around in a half-panic, you quickly discover that the military has arrived. From what you understand, it's unheard of for this to happen; you certainly haven't seen any military presence in the four months you've worked there, and by the disheveled, rushed appearance of Dr. Harolds, the chief researcher of the lab, there was no warning that they were coming until the huge truck hack pulled into the warehouse at the front of the lab complex. Whatever's happening, it's big. Really big.
You and the rest of the staff watch from the perimeter of the room as dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers pour out from the large truck in the center as well as the four smaller vehicles surrounding it. They're all decked out in combat gear, each holding a semi-automatic rifle. The one that appears to be the leader steps forward, examining everyone with a stern expression on his face. "Would whoever's in charge of this facility please step forward and identify yourself?"
Dr. Harolds complies, nervously shaking. "I'm Dr. Harolds," he says, his voice cracking, "the chief researcher of White Cliffs Research Lab."
The soldier looks square at him. "Dr. Harolds, I am Lieutenant Colonel Anthony Lakarta of the United States Marine Corps, Special Operations 1st Battalion. Per the Military Research and Development Act of 1952, I am hereby taking command of this facility effective immediately."
Your jaw drops, stunned. You knew that the labs had been designed for emergency military use, but there hadn't been a need for anything like that since before anyone still there could remember. Dr. Harolds, likewise, is perplexed. "Taking - control? Um, but sir, we currently have several projects in development and--"
"Dr. Harolds!" Lt Col Lakarta raises his voice only slightly, but speaks with enough power to immediately stop your boss in his tracks. It's nice to see Dr. Harolds under pressure for a change, especially after all the times he had berated you for making a tiny mistake in your daily rounds. "As I'm sure you're aware," Lakarta goes on, "these labs were paid for and are being maintained from the military budget with the express purpose of handling emergency situations like the one we're facing today. If you are unable to comply with this, I can find someone who will. Do I make myself clear?"
Like a puppy being scolded for making a mess, Dr. Harolds looks down and answers meekly, "Yes, sir."
"Good, now I expect Room A is clear and ready for immediate use, correct?"
An audible gasp goes up from several of the staff members to your left and right. Room A is a gigantic, cavernous section of the lab buried deep within the cliffside, stretching at least two hundred feet tall and nearly six hundred feet long. Other than maintenance and cleaning, no one is allowed in there, and even for those reasons, any access was strictly monitored and documented. No one had a clue what the room was supposed to be for; you had heard a rumor that it was built in the fifties in case an Area-51 type incident were to happen on the east coast, but the only thing anyone knew for certain was that it had remained vacant for decades. If the military needs to use it now… something truly out of this world is going on.
"Room A?" Dr. Harolds seems as shocked as the rest of the staff, but quickly regains his composure. "Yes, sir. Room A is ready for your immediate use. There's an access tunnel at the far end of this room."
"Good," Lakarta nods. "Then my men will go with the vehicle. I want all of your men to make their way to that room to assist in any way needed."
So fifteen minutes later, you find yourself in another large, empty room, this one twice as big as the first, with the back of the large military truck backing into place. Forty soldiers stand around the back of the truck, weapons aimed at it, while several research staff members stand around a control panel, trying furiously to get something to work properly.
"Okay, men," Lakarta calls out, "On my orders, we will open the door and begin to transport the cargo. Keep in mind, he's been sedated, but there's no telling how long that will last or what he'll be like when he wakes up."
He? you think to yourself. What in the world could be in the back of that vehicle that could ever be referred to as a "he"? You gulp, bracing yourself for the worst.
"All right, men. Open on three. One. Two. Three!"
The back of the truck begins to slide open, moving much quicker than you expected, and in less than ten seconds, you begin to make out a figure. At first, you don't believe your eyes. The figure is huge, bigger than anything you've ever seen before in your life! Quickly, though, you see more detail, and begin to make out what it is that you're staring it.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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