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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #1194417
Chapter One: Meet Sergeant Hartby
New York City. So much to see, so little time.

"So many things happen in New York. And by things, I mean crimes. The NYPD may be the most elite and skilled police force this side of the planet, but it still needs help. Criminals are becoming more dangerous, and more in number. So naturally, we have had rise to keep up the balance. But it has become harder and harder to do that recently, with so many people reluctant to take up the responsibility of being part of the Force. So certain new and untried methods have been declared acceptable for testing...and this has brought us to our current situation."
Sergeant George Hartby tugged at the collar of his shirt. Explaining the function and purpose of the Z labs was going to take time and understanding. Two values that reporters didn't often have. One of them was already piping up with a question.
"Sergeant Hartby? Peter Wickleby, Daily Press. What we wanna know is, who exactly declared that these 'methods' were acceptable?" He had his notepad ready, pen in hand.
Hartby hesitated. It was one question that he'd been told that he was at no liberty to disclose. But he knew the reporters wouldn't take that for an answer, or that they would take whatever he did say after that and twist it to his disadvantage. He sighed.
"It was agreed by a number of important legal representatives that this...'experiment', would be the most acceptable solution to this problematic situation."
Wickleby immediately wrote down every word, and had another try. "I don't suppose you could give us an idea as to who these 'legal representatives' are?" 
Hartby shook his head. "I'm afraid not." he said in a firm tone. Wickleby took the hint, nodded, and went back to writing.
Some of the other reporters were trying to politely shout questions over one another, but it was impossible to hear each of them out. Hartby realised that it was pointless to listen to their questions anyway, as he himself had little knowledge of what was happening in the Z labs. He only knew that it was a high security issue, some kind of project that would affect the NYPD and possibly other police departments worldwide... as for what the 'experiment' actually involved, he was still pretty much in the dark. He decided he'd better leave.
He stepped down from the podium, which inevitably increased the shouting. He strode off the stage, pausing only to salute the flag.

As Hartby exited the building, he went towards the car that had been called to pick him up. The driver waved to him, and he realised who it was. One of the undercover officers in his department, Eliza Lee, better known as 'Elfy' because of her hair. It was short but well managed, and it shimmered in the sun.
It was also fluorescent green.
She had several piercings and she wore loads of jewellery. She looked like any other punk, apart from the lack of makeup.
He forced a smile. "Greetings, Miss Lee. Long time no see!" he chuckled, with just a hint of sarcasm. She looked at him. "Was that your best attempt at humour, Sergeant? Very disappointing." She shrugged. "But it's not my place to judge. Hop in." She gestured to the back seat. Grumbling, he got in. Normally he wouldn't take attitude from anyone lower than him in rank, but Elfy had a way of...well, getting away with things. He assumed that she had friends in high places, though she never confirmed it.
She started the engine, and pulled out into the road. Hartby put his hands to his head, and massaged his temples. Elfy watched him in the mirror. "Tough day huh? I've got some 'stuff' that'll clear up that headache, if you know what I mean..." She put one hand to her mouth, and pretended to be smoking.
He glared at her. She giggled. "You know I'm joking, Sarge. Just trying to cheer you up, that's all. Kinda impossible, but I try my best."
Elfy specialised in hosting fake drug exchanges to catch main dealers. The dealers often trusted her as a normal thug because of her looks, but inside her was the heart of a good and honest cop. She'd always been against using drugs, yet she was the one to talk to when it came to locally identifying them after a heist. Over time she had become a valued member of Hartby's team, whether he liked it or not.
They came to a fork in the road. The right led back to the police station, and the left went off to the freeway. Elfy indicated left, and proceeded to turn left. Hartby frowned. "Taking the long way back to the station are we? Or have you forgotten where it is?" he asked. She ignored the sarcasm this time. "We're not going to the station, sir. My orders were to take you straight to the Z labs after your little 'meeting' with the press. It'll take us about fifteen minutes to get there, but I'm sure you don't mind. After all, you've got me to entertain you!" She winked at him in the rear-view mirror. He rolled his eyes, took out his PDA, and turned it on. He put some headphones in as well, and turned the volume up. Elfy shrugged. "Well, if you want to be Mr. Antisocial, that's fine with me. I don't care." She switched on the radio, and hummed along to the tune that was playing.

Nearer to half an hour later, they pulled into the Z lab's car park. Elfy mumbled something about the 'lousy lunchtime traffic' and killed the engine. Hartby switched off his PDA and pocketed it. He got out of the car, and so did Elfy. As he turned to ask her why, she told him. "I've gotta 'escort' you to the lab as well you know. Sure sucks to be me, eh?" She led the way to the main entrance. Muttering under his breath, Hartby followed. As they went in, he took a look around. He had only been here once, and the first time he hadn't had much time to admire the surroundings.
Most of the building seemed to be made of either plastic, glass or metal. There was nothing natural in sight, apart from a small pine bonsai tree on the reception desk. The building was much like a very large office, and seemed quite ordinary for a famous laboratory. There was no sign of anything particularly scientific, no display cases or plaques or anything. The people even looked ordinary, some smartly dressed secretaries and administrative personnel, and there were some people wandering about just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
This place doesn't look so 'top secret' to me, thought Hartby.
The reception desk was basically a large shaped-steel rectangle, with the Z labs' trademark symbol embossed on the front, a large letter Z with wings surrounded by an atom. There were three receptionists on duty at the desk, and two of them were currently speaking on the phone. The other had been working at a computer, but noticing Elfy and Hartby's presence, she quickly came to the desk. She looked surprised to see Elfy, but the surprise was overcome by respect for a man in uniform. She spoke with a soft French accent. "May I help you?" she asked politely, her eyes on Hartby. Elfy sighed impatiently and started looking at her nails. Hartby hesitated. "I was told, that is, my, um, assistant was told to bring me here. I am Sergeant George Hartby of the New York Police Department. I am here about...the current project?" he explained. The secretary nodded, and typed something on her computer. "Ah yes, I see. The team on BS6 wish to meet with you right away. Please take the lift down," She pointed to a large elevator across the room. "-and on BS6 one of our scientists will guide you from there." She smiled. Hartby nodded and thanked her, then made his way to the lift. When he noticed that Elfy wasn't with him, he turned around. She was leaning against the reception desk, playing with the bonsai tree. The receptionist was standing beside her, looking worried. He sighed. Can't say I blame her, Elfy can't be good for this company's image, he thought. He went back and asked if she was coming with him or not. Elfy shrugged and gave her usual nonchalant sigh, and followed him to the lift.
When the lift came, it was empty. They got in and Elfy pressed the BS6 button. There were six 'basement' floors, and only three floors above ground. Elfy raised an eyebrow. "This place is all underground? Weird." The doors closed, and the lift started to move.  She turned to Hartby. "Okay, so what exactly is this little mission about? I've been here once or twice, but just to use the library and stuff, you know? I've never seen the actual lab part. What's going on down there?"
He looked at his shoes. "I don't actually know the full details yet, but whatever they are doing is a closely guarded secret, so you'd better keep quiet about this, okay?" Elfy nodded, and after a few seconds they arrived at the sixth basement floor.

As soon as the doors opened Hartby felt uneasy. What they saw was a large cavern, held up with several large steel girders. It was really noisy, but unlike above the noise seemed to be coming from machines rather than people. There was metal everywhere, it made up the floor, the walls and the ceiling. The lights were dim compared to those above, but they still made a stark contrast with the looming darkness of the cavern.
A man stood before them. He was tall, and quite pale, with coal-black hair that haunted his shoulders. His face was thin and looked worn, but despite this he wore a friendly, genuine smile. He was wearing a grubby white lab coat, and he had two visitor’s passes in his hand. These he offered to Hartby and Elfy, so they took them and put them on. He gestured for them to follow him. They did, but Hartby couldn't help taking one last look at the lift before doing so.
The man took them to a smaller section of the cavern, where there was less noise. Then he turned to them and introduced himself, shaking hands with them. "The name's Greg Baxter. Just call me Greg! I'll take you to my boss, he's the one in charge of the project. Please, this way." He strode on ahead. They came to a large vault door guarded by various identity scanners and four fully armed guards. Two of the guards performed a routine check on Hartby and Elfy, making sure they weren't armed. Hartby had known better than to take a weapon with him. The guards watched them carefully. Hartby knew that whatever was behind that door was either seriously valuable or seriously dangerous. Or both.
Greg pressed a fingerprint scanner and put his eye to a retina scanner at the same time. After a few seconds, both devices bleeped in unison, and something on the door clicked. It opened automatically, revealing a dark room. He looked back at Hartby and Elfy. "I'd brace myself for what you're about to see, if I were you." he said in a warning yet somehow excited tone. Each of them took a deep breath, and entered.

The room was massive. Complicated machines and devices lined the walls. There were scientists everywhere. But none of those things was the striking surprise of the place.
The whole room and everything in it was basking in a soft green glow. This was coming from the centre of the room, where there stood alone, a large green glowing pillar of light. Greg moved closer to the pillar. Hartby and Elfy followed, neither wanting to be lost in the green gloom.
As they got closer to the pillar, they could see one figure standing beside it, outlined in its bright light. Greg spoke to the solitary figure, and it reluctantly moved away from the pillar. 
The figure was a thin, middle-aged man with long white hair and, even in this light, Hartby could see his dazzling blue eyes, touched by a hint of sadness. He was completely dressed in white, and this along with his pale complexion gave the striking image of a ghost or spirit. The man held out his hand. As Hartby shook it, it felt like he was shaking hands with some kind of statue, as the hand looked delicate and fragile, yet it had a solid, ice-cold grip. The man shook hands with Elfy, then spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Welcome, guests. I am Samuel Hal. And this is my project. Project Z-1-6-6-4." He turned their attention back to the pillar. He looked back over his shoulder. "Clear the tank. I want them to see her. I want to see her." he said to one of the scientists, who immediately went to a computer and typed up a sequence of numbers. Hartby and Elfy exchanged confused glances.
There was a noise that sounded like water being drained. All eyes were on the pillar. Hartby realised that the 'pillar' was the tank, and that it was filled with some kind of glowing green liquid. The liquid had been opaque, but now it was draining and becoming clear.
What Hartby saw as the liquid cleared shocked him. Elfy gasped in amazement. Greg sighed. "I told you to brace yourselves..." he muttered.
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