00-01: The AdvAnTAGE Project
Episodes 00 & 01: The introduction to The AdvAnTAGE Project, a darker sci-fi set in our universe but with an alternate timeline. Unifact, a pharmaceutical company, in an attempt to create a chimera, inadvertently spawns a new creature, a perfect hybrid of man and animal. Unbeknownst to the scientists or the Director of their lab, a shadowy syndicate of government agents, Sovereign Six, pulls the strings of Unifact, among many other organizations. This new creature is exactly what they need, and more will follow, but a boy, a hacker in a search for the truth, stumbles upon something far stranger than he could've imagined...
Notes: This series, influenced by The X-Files, will follow a similar format. Some episodes will advance the plot, some won't, and some will even be erotic in nature, once the story reaches that point. Episodes with prefixed numbers and a tile, (02: Title), advance the plot. Episodes without a numbered prefix but a title and suffix of [MoW] (Title [MoW]) are 'Monster of the Week' episodes and may feature cameos by main characters, or may not. They will NOT be erotic in nature. Episodes without a numbered prefix but a title and suffix of [ER] (Title [ER]) are 'Monster of the Week' episodes that are meant to be erotic in nature.
World lore site: https://www.worldanvil.com/w/advantage-mantridbrizon
The AdvAnTAGE Project
By
Mantrid Brizon
Episode 00: A Glimpse Of Things To Come
Yawning and leaning back in his suede computer chair, Donnie Harper stretches his weary muscles before returning his attention to his work. Cold blue eyes stare at the soft-white glow of the CRT monitor. The computer's cooling fan hums subtly in the deafening silence of his bedroom. The whispers of the electronics are broken only by the loud clicks of the keyboard. He furls his brow and swiftly turns his head, tossing back the bangs of his black hair, which hang just over his thin eyebrows. How long has it been since he'd had it cut?
The screen begins to blur and he takes a moment to rub his tired eyes. He's been reading for a long time, though it hasn't felt like it. He glances at the clock and is surprised to find that it's already five after ten. Did he stay up all night again?! This is becoming a routine. A knock on his bedroom door catches his attention.
“It's open!" He exclaims, his attention still affixed onto his NeXTstation.
“Yeah, but you know how we respect your privacy." His mother, Jenny, says as she opens the door.
Poking her head into the room, she stares at her fourteen-year-old son, who sits at his computer, clicking the mouse and scrolling down the webpage. He hasn't even glanced in her direction. What could he be “researching" this time?
“You're still at that thing?!" She finally remarks.
“Mom, this is important! There may be proof here!" Donnie exclaims.
“Right... Well, your friend Martin is here to see you!" She chirps.
“Hey, buddy!" Martin pushes the door open and brushes past Donnie's mother. “Rise and shine!"
“I haven't been to bed yet." Donnie replies, his fixation on the webpage unbroken.
“For real?!"
“Well, I'll leave you boys to your... Whatever."
After dismissively fluttering her hand, Donnie's mother turns and walks away. Martin glances back and then leans over, looking toward the empty doorway for a moment. The somewhat athletic, teenage boy sighs as he brushes back his shaggy, medium-brown hair over an ear.
“Mmm-mmm... Man, if I was ten years older."
“Hey, that's my mom, asshole." Donnie casually retorts, clicking on a link to a different webpage.
“Oh, yeah, she is... Mommy's got some tig ol' bih-"
“Dude!" Donnie finally turns around in his chair and glares at his friend.
“Alright, alright!" Martin chuckles. “So, are you coming over today, or what?!"
“Huh? Coming over? ... Oh, shit! DnD is today!" Donnie rests his palm on his forehead as he leans back in his chair, his thin nose pointing at the ceiling.
“Yeah! We've been trying to get you to play with us forever! What's been keeping you up this time? Bigfoot?"
“No. This is bigger."
“Bigger than bigfoot?"
“Oh yeah!" Donnie chirps.
“Did they finally get Playboy on this thing?!" Martin teases, examining Donnie's computer.
“Way bigger!" A frustrated Donnie replies.
“... Hustler?"
“Damn it, dude! This might be proof of aliens! Historical accounts of real visitations!" Donnie exuberantly begins, throwing his arms into the air.
“Aliens..."
“Yeah! Check these out! What does this sound like to you?!" Donnie points to the screen.
“You really need to chill with this stuff. The X-Files is just a TV show. You know, ever since it came out last year you've gotten deeper and deeper into this National Inquirer crap."
“Yeah, but the truth IS out there, man! Maybe I'll order a new telescope and see something."
“How's that coming, anyway?"
“Huh?" Donnie raises a brow.
“You know..." Martin glances toward the partially open door, then leans in closer. “That credit card thing." He speaks under his breath.
“Oh! That! Yeah, that software was pretty good. I got a bunch of new numbers; wired myself about twenty grand with over fifty cards." Donnie casually replies.
“You'd better hope they don't track you down. They give people the chair for that."
“Michigan has never had the death penalty." Donnie coolly retorts.
“Whatever. Life in prison is just a really slow death penalty." Martin quips. “Aren't you worried about getting caught?"
“I don't do that shit here, man."
“Oh... Where do you go, then?"
“The library. Old Mr. Hapcock lets me stay until close, sometimes even afterward, if I help him sort the books. They got a spare line I can hook up to; I tweaked my software and added a card for my PowerBook so now I can dial-in really fast. It gives me time to earn and do the more important research. I don't want them tracking me to my house, not with the stuff I'm discovering!"
Martin leans back on Donnie's bed, still as neat as it was when his mother made it the day before. He rests his back against Donnie's pillows and headboard, his eyes scanning the room which is covered in posters of aliens and mythological monsters. On the back of his partially opened door is a promotional poster for The X-Files, Donnie's favorite TV show. Already a bit of a computer nerd, as are Martin and the rest of their crew, Connor, Jack and Louis, Donnie was quick to use his skills to delve into all things dark and mysterious.
Originally just a curious hobby, it's become a growing obsession. Glancing out of the nearby window, Martin sees a man dressed in business casual and heading toward a brand new, 1993 BMW M3 sedan with a beautiful, metallic blue paintjob. With his leather briefcase in hand and badge proudly displayed from a lanyard around his neck, the scientist leaves for work. After brushing the fall leaves from his windshield, he hops into his fancy car and revs the engine a few times before pulling out of his driveway and speeding down the street.
This isn't a state secret; the man is a researcher who works for Unifact, the Unifying Action pharmaceutical company, a megacorporation with a lab on the outskirts of town. Martin smirks and shifts his emerald eyes, glancing toward Donnie.
“There goes your neighbor. What do you suppose they do over there, at that lab? What grand conspiracies are they cooking up?"
“I don't know... Probably making a tastier cough syrup or something." Donnie murmurs, focused on the web page.
After a long but pleasant drive into the rural nothingness of central Michigan, the metallic blue beamer turns onto a thin, asphalt path. It creeps slowly along the blank driveway, which snakes for nearly a mile through the fenced in property. Reaching the guard station and the main gate, the driver parks before the closed security barrier.
“Good morning, Dr. Burnheart! Running a little late, today?" The young man in the light blue security guard uniform asks as he peeks his head out from the little booth.
“Hello, Scotty. Yeah, it's been one of those mornings." Dr. Burnheart replies.
“Too much sauce, eh?" Scotty smirks.
“I was up late with some new calculations!" Dr. Burnheart chirps.
“Figures..." Scotty murmurs.
“It's really interesting stuff! We were having a hard time with cellular division, but if we-"
“Sound fun, Doc! Better get in there before they get mad!"
Pressing a button mounted atop his desk, the armed guard waves Dr. Burnheart through.
“Right."
“Have a good one, sir."
“You too, Scotty. Don't work too hard."
“I never do." The guard smirks.
Passing through the gate, constructed of heavy steel bars and built to stop a speeding truck, Dr. Burnheart glances at the large sign beside it. It reads “Unifact pharmaceuticals. Medicine is the universal language." He cannot help but smirk and shake his head as he drives down the long and windy path that leads even further into the sprawling property and toward the research and development laboratory, nestled deep within the woods and away from prying eyes. Even the closest town, where he resides, is over a dozen miles away, making his commute from the outskirts of Midland that much longer.
Parking in his designated space, Dr. Kyle Burnheart, a thirty-two-year-old scientist with doctorates in both genetics and biology, steps out of his car. He pauses for a moment, leaning against the '93 Beamer, all of two months old. He wrote a check for the full amount and it cleared. He knew it would. This job has paid him handsomely, but oftentimes he feels as though it isn't worth it. He became a scientist because of a yearning, a deep and burning desire to make a difference in the world, as well as to stake a claim to medical history. Every scientist wants their name in a book, even if it's only a footnote.
This work, however, hasn't satiated that thirst. Their research may even be a fool's errand, as it has been ever since Unifact began the efforts to create a chimera in the summer of 1986. Originally stationed at the company's headquarters in Vermont, Dr. Burnheart was hired fresh out of college by Unifact specifically to work on this project. That was in the fall of 1988, when construction on the central Michigan lab, nicknamed “MiLab", was completed. Ever since that fateful day, he's worked at MiLab, doing his best to develop a chimera, an animal fused with human DNA, allowing its blood and organs to be transplantable into needy patients.
It's long been considered a holy grail among the medical community, but in five years and nine hundred and forty experiments, they've achieved exactly nothing. Walking up the stone steps and swiping his keycard to enter the facility, Dr. Burnheart passes a technician. He waves as the technician greets him, then turns a corner and enters the locker room.
“Look who finally showed up!" A voice exclaims as he steps through the door.
“Hi Carol."
“That's Dr. Addis, to you." She says with a little grin.
“Apologies, Ms. Addis." He teases her.
“Prick." She softly giggles.
Standing near her locker, Dr. Carol Addis, all of twenty-seven, is a recent hire, and scored the highest in her class. Also holding a doctorate in genetics, as well as being an accomplished programmer, Unifact jumped at the chance to bring her aboard and Dr. Addis was more than happy to have a means of paying off her student loans so soon after graduating. The tall, slender brunette with hair down to her shoulders, and thick but strangely attractive, black-framed eyeglasses, smiles warmly at Dr. Burnheart.
The healthy young man with an average build smiles back, his emerald eyes staring into her amber orbs. The vent near the door flutters his somewhat shaggy auburn hair, which tickles his brow. Stepping into the locker room and approaching his locker, he collects his lab coat and drapes it over his sterile, white button-up.
“So, Doctor... Today is the big day. Are you excited?" Dr. Addis asks.
“For what?" Dr. Burnheart raises a brow.
“For what?! To see the results, of course!" She chirps.
“I keep forgetting, you haven't yet grown accustomed to the taste of disappointment." He says with a soft chuckle. “Give it time, though."
“That's not the proper attitude, Kyle." She retorts. “Every failure is another step toward success."
“Five years working here and nine hundred and forty failures... Guess how many successes I've had?" He sternly replies, glancing back at her.
“Do you regret taking this job?" She asks, furling her brow.
“No..." He says with a sigh, buttoning up his lab coat. “It paid off my loans and bought my house and two new cars, all in the span of a few years. I suppose if it's anything, it's my lack of progress."
“With your work?" Dr. Addis cocks her head.
“Well, that too... Moving out here, to the middle of nowhere, I just... I feel like I should be further along in my life, as well as my work." He begins.
“Oh... Is this because of your brother?" Dr. Addis carefully asks.
“Hey, good on him for getting married! He deserves it! Really!" Dr. Burnheart unenthusiastically exclaims.
“I see..." She murmurs.
“I graduated top of my class, and in a month I earn five times what he sees in a decade. Who needs a social life, right?!" Dr. Burnheart continues, his frustration seeping through his facade.
“Well, maybe after the results, if you aren't, uhm... W-what I mean is, uhm, maybe we c-" Dr. Addis stammers, a finger twirling her hair.
“All primary staff to Lab Three! I repeat, all primary staff to Lab Three!" Director Chen's voice suddenly booms over the intercom.
“Come on, Carol. We'd better see what she wants." Dr. Burnheart says, motioning to Dr. Addis.
The pair make their way down the long corridor, the heels of their dressy shoes clicking loudly on the freshly waxed, sterile white tiles. Dr. Addis routinely glances at Dr. Burnheart, her brow softened and head bowed. The lead lab technician, Avery Keyes emerges from an adjacent room and spotting the two doctors, he quickly joins the pair. As the man responsible for much of the prep work, as well as operating much of their equipment, he's understandably the most concerned. Entering Lab Three, the trio find themselves staring at Dr. Jose Chavez, another young researcher, and Director Amy Chen.
The thirty-year-old woman of Chinese heritage is a third generation American, and the first to overachieve in her family. Hired by Unifact based solely on her entrance exam scores to Harvard University, she's run MiLab since her graduation in 1989. The twenty-five-year-old Dr. Chavez, a naturally born citizen whose family immigrated from Brazil generations ago, is a certified genius who earned all of his doctorates several years early. The tall, tanned, long-haired man has spent less than six months with the team, and is still learning the ropes.
Stern and all-business, Director Chen stands with her arms crossed before her modest bust, the tip of her high-heeled shoe tapping on the tile floor. She appears quite perturbed.
“What's wrong, Ms. Chen?" Avery Keyes asks.
“That's Director Chen, Technician Keyes!" She barks.
“Sorry..."
“Did we miss a report or something?" Dr. Addis asks.
“No, but you almost missed whatever this is! I hear machines beeping and I grow concerned, especially when no one is here to check on them." Director Chen replies.
“I don't think it's anything serious, Director." Dr. Chavez interjects.
“Are you the technician?!" She growls at the soft-spoken man.
Dr. Burnheart and Avery Keyes pass Director Chen, who stands all of five-foot-nothing; her height is only marginally increased by her high-heels. Looking at the machine, Avery Keyes is quick to activate and check a monitor, the CRT slowly humming to life. His eyes scan the blue screen and silver text, only for him to turn to the others.
“Well?! What's wrong?!" Director Chen demands.
“Nothing. That was just a timer for the automated report. Check the printer." Avery Keyes explains.
“Here it is." Dr. Burnheart chirps, taking a sheet from a stack of overturned papers.
“Oh..." Director Chen's face flushes, her arms falling to her sides.
“Huh... Well, that's interesting!" Dr. Burnheart murmurs.
“What is?!" Director Chen asks, instantly returning to a state of worry.
“Pull the specimen, Dr. Addis."
Locked within the sealed and sterile incubating chamber, Dr. Addis uses the attached gloves to place a lid atop the special dish and extract the specimen. Rushing the specimen to a modified microscope built into the chamber, Dr. Chavez is the first to peer through the lenses.
“Oh my god!" He exclaims.
“What?! What is it?!" Director Chen grows increasingly excited.
“Please, look at this! Do you see it?!" Dr. Chavez pushes Dr. Burnheart before the microscope.
He leans forward and looks through the lenses, his brow raising and eyes widening.
“It's... Cellular division!" He exclaims.
“What's that mean?! Talk to me, people!!!" Director Chen demands.
The scientists and technician look between each other in stunned silence, before staring in unison at the microscope. Labeled “Specimen #0941", the dish contains the artificially fertilized ovum of a snowshoe hare. The egg cell was first weakened, before being implanted with a sperm cell taken from a cache made by human donors. In all the years and all the various attempts they'd made, this is the first to divide in such a natural manner. The two scientists and the primary lab tech all share another glance before Dr. Burnheart finally turns around to face the nearly frantic Director.
“Director Chen, I think... I think we've succeeded..."
With her big brown eyes as wide as saucers, the Director stumbles backward, steadying herself against the nearest wall. Dr. Chavez is quick to catch her as she slips to one side.
“Are you alright?"
“She's just excited." Avery Keyes smirks.
“Yeah... I-I'd, uhm... I'd better make some calls..." She speaks in a hushed voice, overcome by the news.
Men surround a table in a dimly lit, smoke-filled room. At the head, an older man in a tailored black suit glances at his peers. Generals, Directors of powerful federal organizations, and several underlings wait in silence.
“Apologies! I came as fast as I could!" A man exclaims as he charges into the room.
“It's alright. I'm sure you had pressing business." The Old Man comments, glaring at the man.
“Erm... Yeah." He bows his head, like a frightened dog.
Sitting in silence at the table, a cigarette in the ashtray beside him, The Old Man waves his hand through the air.
“Must you smoke those?" He asks with a grumble, glancing toward General Davis, who sits at his left.
“Sorry, sir... A bad habit." The middle-aged man replies.
“You just finished one."
“I know, sir." The General snuffs out his half-smoked cigarette.
“Thank you. Now that we're all here, finally..." The Old Man glares at the newcomer. “Shall we begin the weekly meeting?"
A telephone near the center of the large, round table, sitting atop a smaller table containing pens, a crystal decanter and several matching glasses, suddenly begins to ring.
“Ugh! ... Pass me the phone..." The Old Man grumbles, motioning with his fingers.
Another suit-clad man slides the blue phone toward the older man in the black suit. He takes hold of the receiver.
“Thank you, Director Busch." The Old Man says before lifting the receiver to his ear.
He listens for a moment, a muffled voice barely audible to the others.
“Hello? Yes. Oh? Uh-huh... Oh! Well, now! That IS good news! ... Hm? Oh, yes! Absolutely! Tell them to proceed! In fact, tell them to await a liaison. If this works out, we're going to expand."
The Old Man hangs up the phone and sits back in his chair, the widest of grins on his somewhat wrinkled face. He brings his hands to his chest, clasping them together before using them to unsuccessfully conceal his curled lips. Icy blue eyes stare past the round table, beyond the curious onlookers.
“Who was it, sir?" A suit wearing man finally asks.
“Word from Mr. Baker, the CEO of Unifact. They've finally done it."
“You mean?!"
“Yes... The process has finally begun. Our evolution is finally within our grasp... You, there!" The Old Man turns to a much younger man, who stands at the furthest end of the table, as still as a statue.
“Agent Sharpe, sir." The young man chirps.
He's a tall, athletic fellow, with his short, platinum blonde hair combed back and gelled into place. Thin, oblong sunglasses with a mirror finish hide his eyes from the others and his suit, as bland as one might expect, gives off an eerie aura. Agent Sharpe is, for all intents and purposes, a caricature of a 'Man in Black'.
“Yes, yes, very good..." The Old Man dismissively waves a hand. “I want you to head out into the field. Use this as an opportunity to cut your teeth. I want you to visit our people at Van D'Steen Construction, and then head to Unifact's MiLab and make sure they do exactly as we tell them."
“Right away, sir!"
“You'll receive a secured phone on your way out, and will receive more detailed instructions upon your arrival at the Van D'Steen manor. Take a small team, just in case they're needed. You're in command of this operation, Agent Sharpe." The Old Man continues.
“Yes, sir!"
Nodding his head in both respect and confirmation of The Old Man, Agent Sharpe straightens his tie before turning and walking casually out of the room. He mustn't seem too eager. Several older men, seated much closer to The Old Man, turn in their chairs and look to their leader.
“Director Busch? Director Bloodworth?"
“Yes?" The men reply.
“You know what to do..." The Old Man flashes a sinister grin.
“Yes, sir!"
Entering the lounge area of Unifact's MiLab, Dr. Addis takes a seat beside Dr. Burnheart. Many of the lab staff present when the discovery was made sit in the lounge, waiting for Director Chen. Dr. Chavez reads a book and sips a cappuccino, while Avery Keyes snacks on a cheese sandwich. The clicking of high heeled shoes draws near, and soon the excited looking Director steps through the archway.
“Alright, people! I called you all here because I received word straight from the board. After our little discovery, they called an emergency meeting and made their decision." She begins.
“So, when do we flush the tank?" Avery Keyes asks with his mouth full.
“Oh, we're not flushing the tank!"
Avery chokes on his sandwich, while Dr. Chavez stops mid-sip, turning his eyes toward the Director.
“Then... What are we supposed to do?" Dr. Addis asks, cocking her head to one side.
“We're to keep the specimen alive for as long as possible. We're to see if it'll grow into a viable fetus, and if it does, birth it."
The room falls deathly silent; you could hear a pin drop in the hallway.
“... What?"
“You heard me! Orders from the board. It's time to make history!" She chirps, clapping and then rubbing her hands together.
“I thought we were only trying to prove the theory. You want us to actually create the thing?!" A stunned Dr. Burnheart asks.
“Isn't that all we were intending to do from the start? Prove a theory?" Dr. Addis chimes in.
“Right! And what better way to prove it than bring it to life!" Director Chen giddily exclaims.
“That feels... Unethical." Dr. Chavez quietly begins.
“How so?!" Director Chen's tone changes, her authority thoroughly challenged.
“Well..." The young doctor sets his book aside. “This isn't just some fetus... I mean, it was spawned from two entirely different species. We don't know what we're going to get."
“Right! What if it's some hideously deformed rabbit, or a severely handicapped human?! We don't know what's growing in that tank!" Dr. Burnheart exclaims.
“Look, this isn't a debate! I have my orders and so do you! I've apprised you, now get back to work and care for your experiment! Don't you dare disappoint me. Not if you ever want to work again..." Director Chen snarls and then storms out of the room.
Everyone exchanges nervous glances, unsure of what to make of the sudden turn of events. None had anticipated this. Even the ever-positive Dr. Addis appears shaken to her core. The embryo is only a day old, but the tension is palpable. What have they done? With their hands legally and financially tied, none speak up about their thoughts or feelings when Director Chen leaves the room. After uneasy stares, they silently and collectively resign themselves to their work.
For the next few weeks, they watch as the fetus develops, growing as if it was a healthy child in its mother's womb. They carefully monitor the incubation chamber, which is regularly modified to maintain an environment as similar to natural as possible. By the beginning of the second month, it's clear that whatever this is, it isn't a snowshoe hare but neither is it a human.
Dr. Chavez, ever the religious man, becomes more unnerved with each passing day and takes to praying to the Virgin Mary before he will even set foot in the complex. Avery Keyes becomes increasingly fearful of failure, directing his worries onto the continuation of his job. Dr. Burnheart and Dr. Addis are similarly affected, with the startling turn of events bringing cascading waves of fear and depression. The entire MiLab staff has been changed, many for the worse. Even the air around the complex seems different. A dense, choking cloud of paranoia and agitation.
Standing before the incubation chamber, Dr. Chavez holds a hand over a switch, his appendage tremoring as he contemplates deactivating the machine. His hazel eyes stare through the glowing fluid and at the oddly shaped fetus within. With the torso, arms and legs of a human child, but feet like a rabbit's, though far larger, he knows that this isn't a deformity. The head bears an almost cat-like snout, short and broad, with long and pointy ears on either side of the creature's head.
He rests his hand near the switch, his fingers tapping the cold, off-white metal as he contemplates his fate. Certainly, his career will be over, but that's just the price he'll have to pay for obeying his conscience. As his fingers caress the switch, the fear overwhelms him. Not of the creature within and what it could become, but of his future. What would become of his family? His parents and younger siblings, who are supported in part by his illustrious career, are depending on him. He yanks his hand away, once again failing to act on his heart. With a frustrated sigh, he turns and storms out of the room, slamming into Dr. Addis as she enters for her shift.
“Oh, sorry!" She exclaims.
“It's alright..." Dr. Chavez pats down his lab coat. “No harm done."
“Yeah... So! How's she doing?"
“Fine..." He grumbles.
“Are you alright, Jose?" She leans closer, visibly concerned.
“... Yeah... Have a good shift." He speaks in a near whisper before walking away.
After watching him traverse the hall in a brooding silence before turning a corner, Dr. Addis steps into the lab and takes a seat beside the incubation tank.
“Hey, girl... How are you today?" She speaks to herself, looking at the fetus in the viscous fluid. “Yeah, I thought as much... My day? Oh, the usual... Just watching you turn into... Whatever the hell you are..."
Resting her hand on the tank, she stares at the fetus for a moment. It shifts, moving as any unborn baby would. Dr. Addis glances at the switch, a part of her mind shouting for her to flip it toward 'off'. She turns her eyes back to the fetus, which appears so disturbing, and yet so innocent.
“I hope you're worth this." She murmurs, slumping back in her chair.
Episode 01: The AdvAnTAGE Project
“That can't be!" She snarls.
The suit-wearing man stands before the diminutive Director Chen, the unfolded sheet of paper clutched tightly in her trembling hands. To the shock of the staff, the stranger, flanked by other men who are just as young and unnerving in appearance, suddenly arrived on the morning of the sixth week. Introducing himself as Agent Sharpe of the NSA, Director Chen was nothing short of horrified when he revealed the reason for his visit.
“I'm not here to argue, ma'am. I'm just here to do my job, and right now that's supervising MiLab's work and the expansion." He replies, leaving the Director and her crew dumbfounded.
“Wait! What expansion?!" Director Chen demands.
“Oh, they haven't called you, yet? You'd better run along and phone your boss. I'm sure Mr. Baker can explain everything to your satisfaction."
“He'd better. If this isn't authorized, I want your pasty ass out of my facility..." She snarls before storming off.
“Charming!" Agent Sharpe flashes a strange little smile. “Now, then... May I see the specimen?" He turns to the scientists.
“What's your clearance?" Dr. Burnheart asks.
“Show me the specimen..." He demands in a stern voice, his smile swiftly fading.
“R-right this way, s-s-sir." A frightened Avery Keyes motions to the stranger.
Agent Sharpe follows Avery Keyes, his men flanking him like bodyguards. The other staff, the actual scientists, follow from a distance, like shy puppies. Agent Sharpe looks at the fetus in the glowing fluid of the tank, a sinister smile gracing his thin lips.
“Well, now... That IS something!" He remarks.
Agent Sharpe and his men stare at the creature in the tank, which shifts and kicks a little foot. One man uses a finger to pull down his sunglasses. He peers over the frame before almost immediately reclaiming his inhumanly cold demeanor. High pitched footfalls echo throughout the hall. Though light in weight, the person stomps their feet with considerable force, making as much noise as possible.
“Uh-oh..." Dr. Chavez murmurs to himself, glancing toward the door.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Director Chen snarls as she bursts inside.
“Agent Sharpe, ma'am." He coolly retorts as he turns around and faces her.
“Don't get cute with me you son of a bitch!"
“What's wrong, Director?" Dr. Addis steps forward.
“I've been replaced! The board didn't even tell me! This asshole is here to supervise some sort of construction project AND he's overseeing MY LAB!" Her face begins to flush with anger.
“Please, Ms. Chen, take a breath. Relax." Agent Sharpe steps forward. “I'm merely the acting overseer, but you are still the proper Director; you're in charge."
“Yeah, in title only! Do you really think you can bend me over the table like this?!"
A strange little smile graces the Agent's lips. At nearly six feet tall, he towers over the dainty Ms. Chen. He tilts his head further forward and uses a finger to pull down his sunglasses, peering at her with his icy blue eyes. He scans her form without a hint of fear. As he slows his scan over both her chest and groin, Ms. Chen's face flushes. This time, however, it isn't from anger. She takes a step backward as Agent Sharpe returns his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose. His smile widens but he doesn't say a word. To the surprise of the lab staff, Director Chen takes a few more steps back before quietly leaving the room. She no longer stomps her feet, disappearing down the hall as she returns to her office in silent defeat.
“Agent Gray?"
“Yes, sir?" A suit-wearing man steps forward.
“Please instruct the Van D'Steen foremen that I'll be with them shortly. I want to be there when they break ground." Agent Sharpe instructs.
“Yes, sir!"
As he makes his way for the door, a curious Dr. Burnheart cannot help himself.
“Where are you going?"
“First, to make a phone call, and then to apologize for unnerving your lovely Director." Agent Sharpe replies as he steps into the hall.
“... Lovely?" Dr. Addis raises a brow.
Holding the phone to his ear, The Old Man sits at the table with his five associates. He doesn't speak, but his lips steadily widen. Finally, The Old Man chuckles.
“That's very good to hear! ...Oh, yes! It's certainly unexpected but I wouldn't say it's a failure. In fact, that may be just what we need from this project... Of course! Send it through, right away! Thank you, Agent Sharpe. You've done fine work... You're welcome. Keep me appraised. We'll talk again, very soon."
The Old Man hangs up the phone and sits back in his chair. The others watch him but hesitate to speak. None dare interrupt the thought-process of their leader, who's sat on that chair for longer than many of their Agents have been alive.
“This project... Hastening our evolution... Perhaps in our attempts to create modified humans, we've just stumbled upon something far greater?"
“Sir?" General Davis asks, leaning closer.
“Any minute now." The Old Man points toward a fax machine in the corner.
After a moment of quiet, the machine begins to whir, the buttons glowing faintly as the device spits out several sheets of paper. One of the five motions to an Agent who guards the room. The Agent retrieves the sheets before presenting them to his master, who then presents them to The Old Man.
“Take a look, gentleman!"
The Old Man's fingers separate several sheets, which he then passes to his cohorts. They shuffle the information around the table, stunned by what they see. A photograph of the fetus in the tank, though blurred by the liquid within, is clearly not that of a human or an animal. The data accompanying it reveals the origins as a perfect splice between a human sperm and the weakened ovum of a snowshoe hare.
“I don't understand. This doesn't appear to be what we were attempting." General Davis finally remarks.
“I have to concur. Weren't we trying to make an advanced human?" Director Bloodworth asks.
“A person with heightened vision, strength and the like?" Director Busch adds.
“Oh, gentlemen... How quickly we forget." The Old Man flashes a sinister grin.
“Sir?"
“How myopic are you? This project was meant to further the evolution of an advanced species. Whether it be modified humans or something else, we're furthering our planet, as a whole. If this creature proves superior to humanity, then this is where our focus belongs!"
“I see..." An unnerved General Davis takes a second glance at the faxed photograph.
“What was this project called before? Advancing Genetic Evolution? This is exactly what we're doing!" The Old Man chirps.
“Do they know what this creature's capabilities are?" Director Busch asks.
“Well, we won't know anything of significance until long after the creature is born. For now, this is a trial run." The Old Man replies.
“Advanced animal trials, in a sense." Director Bloodworth remarks.
“That's a good title! Perhaps it'll keep you from forgetting our true purpose. 'Advanced Animal Trials, Attempting Genetic Evolution'." The Old Man chirps.
“Very good!" Several men nod their heads.
“So... What's the next step, sir?" General Davis asks.
The Old Man sits back in his chair, his upper body sinking into the shroud of darkness, beyond the lights that illuminate their table. He smiles from cheek to cheek, his teeth glinting faintly. Knock, knock, knock!
“Come!" Director Chen chirps.
“You wanted to see me, Director?"
Looking up from her computer monitor, the dissatisfied Director lets out a soft sigh. She slowly motions to Dr. Burnheart with her fingertips, drawing him into her office. He takes a seat in a red leather wingback chair placed across from her ornate, cherry wood desk. Taking a bundle of papers, she presses them together and taps the bottom edge against her desk, straightening the pile. She hands the stack to the Doctor, who collects the sheets and begins skimming over the paperwork. He furls his brow.
“What are these?"
“Work orders." She softly replies.
“Already?!" He gasps.
“Yeah... Those Van D'Steen guys work fast. The new underground lab is nearly up and running, and a shipment of incubation tanks arrives tomorrow. Those are the new specimens. Twenty-four more species in all."
“It seems like only yesterday those men in black showed up." Dr. Burnheart facetiously reminisces.
“I'm not in the mood, Dr. Burnheart. Four weeks they've been here, and ten weeks growing that... Thing..." She grumbles, slumping back in her chair.
“Does that bother you?"
Director Chen's expression changes and she looks to Dr. Burnheart with wide eyes.
“What I meant to ask is, do you have any regrets?" Dr. Burnheart asks in a hushed voice, leaning closer and resting an elbow atop her desk.
“Is that an official question?" Director Chen narrows her eyes with suspicion.
“No!" His back straightens. “I must admit, this whole thing is beginning to feel... Rather dark. The construction project, the guards around the specimen's tank, the new security codes every week... It feels like this went from being a lab to something else... Some kind of sinister, monster factory. I used to regret my choice of career simply because of the affect it's had on my personal life, but now? Now I feel... Kind of evil. Or at least complacent!"
“Well... I think it'd be best for you to keep that opinion to yourself." Director Chen murmurs. “... Feel free to leave at anytime..."
“Oh, right! You have a good day, Director Chen."
As he rises from his chair, Agent Sharpe stands in his way. With a quiet, nervous apology, Dr. Burnheart steps aside while Agent Sharpe claims his empty seat.
“Hello, Ms. Chen. You're looking beautiful, as always." Agent Sharpe remarks.
“Oh, you." Director Chen lets out a soft giggle.
“This is for you... And this." He continues.
Dr. Burnheart can hear a paper unfolding as he leaves the Director's office. Walking through the hall, he passes a man in a dark suit and sunglasses, dressed identically to Agent Sharpe, who is also the only one of these suit-wearing men who ever speaks. The man's pale skin is almost luminescent in the artificial overhead lighting. His statuesque appearance is quite unnerving. Returning to his workstation, where Dr. Addis monitors the fetus, Dr. Burnheart sets aside the papers.
“What's the news?" She asks, glancing over her shoulder at Dr. Burnheart.
“The new tanks are coming in, and we have a list of new species to use in upcoming experiments. The top sheet makes it pretty clear, we're to copy specimen #0941's creation with new genetic materials and see if we can grow other things." He replies.
“That sounds so stuffy... 'Specimen #0941'. We've been working with her for months. Can't we give her a proper name?" Dr. Addis asks.
“I've been calling her 'Eve'." Director Chen suddenly interrupts the pair.
They turn toward the doorway and Dr. Burnheart is visibly surprised to see the Director so soon. In one hand she holds a single red rose, and in the other a sheet of paper, the latter of which she presents to Dr. Burnheart.
“Eve? That's so... Cliché!" Dr. Addis whines.
“It's fitting, though." Dr. Burnheart remarks as he eyes the paper.
“But cliché!" Dr. Addis reiterates.
“Well, what would you name her?!" Director Chen snaps, taking a moment to smell the rose.
“Hmm... How about... Harriet?!"
Dr. Addis sticks out the tip of her tongue, gently biting it as she flashes a smug grin. Director Chen glares at her and growls under her breath.
“Fine! Just keep 'Harriet' alive until she's ready!" The Director snarls.
“Alrighty!" Dr. Addis chirps.
“Director?"
“Hm?"
“Where'd you get that flower?" Dr. Burnheart asks.
“Oh... Mr. Sharpe." She says with a little smile. “You should get back to work."
As she turns and walks away, Director Chen leaves the door open, and soon Avery Keyes pokes his head inside.
“What was that about?" He asks.
“I think our Director and the creepy guy are an item."
“Which one?" Avery chuckles.
“That, and I don't think she liked the name I picked for our girl." Dr. Addis replies.
“Huh... What was it?" Avery steps further inside.
“Harriet." Dr. Burnheart answers.
“Heh. Cute."
“That's what I thought!" Dr. Addis exclaims.
“What'cha got there, Doc?" Avery looks at the paper in Dr. Burnheart's hands.
“A copy of a bill of lading. We're getting a big shipment in tomorrow."
“More tanks for that new lab?" Avery asks.
“Yeah, plus new ovum; we have more species to test out this time."
“So... You're going to try and make more of them?" Avery glances nervously toward Harriet's tank.
“Yeah..." Dr. Burnheart says with a sigh. “That's the plan."
“Oh..." The technician murmurs. “That's... Wonderful."
The doctors both glance at each other. They don't say a word, nor do they need too. Falling back into silence, the staff resume their work. Things continue this way for some time, and as the winter carries on into the new year, it brings with it more successes. Subject #0941, now officially dubbed 'Harriet', may have been the first, but her creation proved it could be done. By copying the conditions that formed her, many more creatures are quickly formed. Tucked safely away, in a brand new, underground laboratory, a large, eerie and dimly lit hangar containing rows upon rows of incubation chambers, fifty-thousand new creatures stir within the glowing fluid of their tanks.
The world, however, is still blissfully unaware. Few know the secrets being kept by Unifact only miles away, hidden within MiLab. Some, however, are eager to discover them. With his fingers typing away on his modified PowerBook 180, Donnie Harper uses a custom-built card to connect to the web. The ribbon strip runs from the resealed case of his computer, attaching the card to the PowerBook. With a new program at his disposal, Donnie waits and watches. The pixelated hourglass turns again and again, then suddenly it vanishes. Access granted. He bolts upright in his chair. The youth can hardly believe it!
“Oh my God... It worked!" He laughs.
He quickly reins in his joy. How much time does he have before the NSA realizes that their database has been compromised? Using a second program, he begins searching for keywords. Spider bots scour the database, hunting for the proof he needs. After a five-minute connection, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk, he gets a hit. Leaning closer and hovering over the small, portable computer, Donnie finds a folder.
“Huh?! Unifact?! The fuck?!" He furls his brow. “What's a pharmaceutical company doing in the NSA database?"
He opens his search software and checks the keywords he'd given to his spider bots. “Hangar" and “Experiment" are highlighted. Opening the folder, he finds a work order for the construction of a hangar, with requests for many earth movers and digging machines. The address is the MiLab, only miles away! He jumps up from his chair, which topples over.
“Oh shit... Unifact has a spaceship! Do they have alien bodies, too?!"
“Donnie? Are you alright?" Old Mr. Hapcock's voice calls out from across the closed library.
“I'm fine!" Donnie shouts. “I just tripped!"
Returning to the computer, Donnie begins to copy the folder. To his horror, the estimated time is over a day.
“Shit..."
Browsing through the folders, he attempts to open several but finds them password protected. It took so long to crack into the NSA's database. Does he have the time to break into these as well? Pushing the thought from his mind, he looks through low level documents and finds several references to a project.
“What the hell is AdvAnTAGE? ... Maybe some sort of?" He gasps. “The X-Files was right, wasn't it?! Human-alien hybrids!"
Continuing to scour the files, he comes across another folder. 'Spec-#0941'. He tries to access the folder but it also requires a password. Unable to resist, he uses his special software, 'lock-breaker'. His heart races as he watches the pixelated hourglass.
“Come on, come on... Hurry up, damnit!" He growls to the screen.
The folder opens, and he finds a single document. Opening the document, the page is a jumbled mess of unrecognizable symbols.
“Huh? The hell is this? ... Wait! Encryption! This IS big!" He gasps.
Looking at the clock on the wall, he is horrified to realize that he'd been plugged into the system for nearly fifteen minutes, far longer than he often allows. Growing paranoid, Donnie copies the encrypted file to his computer. It's finished after only a few minutes. Disconnecting from the database, he hopes that he's gone unnoticed. After confirming the existence of the document within his hard drive, he shuts down his PowerBook, unplugs the ethernet connection and packs up his things. He's quick to get home, to ponder the possibilities and his next move.
“Woah! Slow down, sonny!" Old Mr. Hapcock exclaims as Donnie nearly runs right into him.
“Sorry, Mr. Hapcock."
“Is everything alright?"
“Yeah. I, uh... I just remembered that I needed to be home."
“Oh, alright. Well, thanks for the help tonight. You're a good boy, Donnie." Old Mr. Hapcock smiles.
“Thanks. Have a goodnight."
“You too, Donnie. Be safe!"
Leaving the library with his fingers clutching tightly to the straps of his backpack, Donnie races home. His footfalls echo on the concrete, cutting through the silence.
“Oh, man! I wonder what I got!" Donnie chirps.
His footfalls continue to echo, and soon the Agent rounds a corner. Where is Agent Sharpe?! He wasn't in his office. Dashing down the hall, the Agent stops in his tracks, the heels of his shoes squeaking and scuffing the tile floor.
“Ahh-yeah! Nnn-god!"
He turns toward the closed doorway of Director Chen's office. More noises raise his suspicious and so he barges in. The Agent stands in the doorway, stunned to see the Director bent over her cherry wood desk, her pink panties dropped to her left ankle, the only one he can see, and her skirt hiked up. Standing behind her and thrusting his hips, Agent Sharpe keeps a hand on the small of her back whilst the other holds onto her ponytail, grunting as he works.
“Ahh-fuck! Just like that! Yeah!" She cries out.
“Sir!" The Agent exclaims.
“AHH!" Director Chen shrieks.
“Get out!" Agent Sharpe barks, still thrusting into his lover.
“We have a breach!"
Agent Sharpe freezes, his pelvis pressed firmly against Director Chen's perky buttocks.
“What?!"
“We have a breach, sir!" The Agent reiterates. “We've traced it..."
“I'm sorry, Amy." Agent Sharpe pulls away, withdrawing his manhood from his lover. “We'll pick this up later."
Director Chen slides away from her desk, but her knees are weak. She plops down into her chair, which they'd pushed against the nearby wall. Her lover pulls up his pants and joins his cohort, racing out of the door, which they don't even bother to close. She sits in shock, her blouse unbuttoned and breasts still out in the open.
“... The fuck just happened?!" She growls.
With the last of the returned books sitting atop his little cart, Old Mr. Hapcock pushes the cart away from the front desk. Suddenly, there's a knock at the front doors.
“Oh, what now? Did Donnie forget something?" He thinks aloud.
Heading for the doors, which are windowless and made of solid wood, he unlocks the push-bar.
“Donnie?"
Old Mr. Hapcock pushes the door open but gasps as four men push their way inside. Wearing black overcoats that are buttoned closed, black leather gloves and black balaclavas, they're a terrifying sight to behold. A man with icy blue eyes glares at him.
“Who else is here?!" He demands.
“N-no one! It's just me!" Old Mr. Hapcock replies.
“Good."
Pushing the old man of seventy-one, he stumbles through the foyer and lands atop a wooden bench placed alongside the left wall. Drawing a Glock 17 from his suit jacket, he aims the suppressed pistol at the terrified old man. One, two, three shots and the old man flops against the bench. Two bullets rip through his chest, while the third was placed through his forehead. Old Mr. Hapcock stares lifelessly at the ceiling.
“Look for any computers. Rip them out and put them in the truck. If you see any cameras, take the tapes." The masked gunman instructs.
“Yes, sir!"
One of the men reaches down to collect the spent brass.
“Hey! Leave it!" The gunman cries out.
“Sir?"
“A typical criminal wouldn't think to pick up his brass, and they'll know I used a nine-millimeter. Which reminds me, we need to lock the front doors, return his keys and then kick them in. Really set the stage."
“Yes, sir!"
A moment later, one of the men races up to the gunman, a computer in his arms.
“We found three computers, sir. No camera system."
“Good. Load them up and then let's fix the scene. I want to get back for some unfinished business."
The gunman flashes a sinister grin as he stows his weapon. One of the thugs is unable to resist a chuckle as he walks by with a stolen computer.
“You think we got lucky, sir? These computers have floppy disk drives..."
“We'd better, or there'll be hell to pay." The gunman murmurs. “Alright, let's hurry this up!"