The members of the Enhanced Procurement Squadron groggily staggered into the meeting room, taking seats around a large metallic table. At the head of the table sat Dr. Charles Elias Walker. Walker looked over the members seated and noticed one missing.
"Where's Cicciotto?" Walker demanded. No sooner had the words escaped the man's mouth than the doors wisked open, revealing the groggy Italian, dressed in his standard EPS-issue bodysuit, which was brown in hue. "Glad you decided to join us, Cicciotto..."
Cicciotto shot Walker a dirty look and slid into the seat next to Vidalia Owens, who now found herself between Doe and the Italian. She smiled at the man, who seemed to brighten at her regarding him. Walker raised an eyebrow at this and began his briefing, pressing a button on the tabletop.
A large holo projector raised from the center of the table and lowered from the ceiling. Another few button presses and the lights dimmed. The holo emitter burst to life, revealing a sort of desert terrain, surrounding a lone standing complex... seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
"Where is this place?" Vidalia asked, raising a finger in the air.
"It looks very familiar," Reynolds said, leaning forward to get a better look.
"I was about to say the same thing..." Tweed remarked, stroking his chin.
"Well, it should," Walker retorted, steepling his fingers. "What you see before you is known, in most government circles, as the Side-Show. You original EPS members may recognize it as being similar in structure to the Zoo, a military installation we visited in our earlier travels..."
"The Zoo..." Doe muttered, twiddling his thumbs absently. "...of course..."
"Now, as many of you know," Walker continued, rising from his seat to make this speech, "upon our arrival at the Zoo, we obtained a sample of what I like to call the Pathogen."
Walker pressed another button on the tabletop, which changed the image on the holo projector from the Side-Show to a picture of a black cell - the cause of the Pathogen virus.
"This 'virus' or germ - whatever it is - is quite powerful and potent," Walker continued. "Many of us, Cicciotto especially, saw the level to which it empowered the metahuman freak at the Zoo. Now, as it stands, there is no way we can really test the effects of this Pathogen on metahumans, and, to be quite honest, our data is limited."
Another button press. This time, the image changed to a brain, similar to that of a human, but a bit more advanced. A metahuman brain. The hologram showed the emission of the Pathogen into its brainstem. In a span of about two seconds (fast motion), the brain had turned completely black. After about ten more seconds passed, the brain began to wither and wither and wither... until there was nothing left but ash.
"We think that these are the effects that the Pathogen has on the metahuman brain," Walker explained. "Still, as I stated earlier, our data is sketchy, at best. So, this is what I propose. Our mission is to turn the Side-Show into a metahuman testing facility. We split into separate teams, and, from there, proceed to inject the Pathogen into one metahuman per team. From there, we will observe, thanks to I.G.O.R.'s hacked surveillance and a few of Dr. Curie's own special spy nanites, the transformation that these metahumans undergo during Pathogen infection. Any questions?"
A raised hand from Reynolds. "Why do they call this place the Side-Show?"
"Good question," Walker said, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace. "Irrelevant, but good, nonetheless. Before your time, the circus included a few very different types of acts. There were the usual clowns, elephants, acrobats, and high-wire acts, but there was also something called a 'side-show'. Here, for the small price of about a nickel or a dime, people could see what everyone affectionately called 'freaks'. Among these 'carneys', as they were also referred to, were the Elephant Man, the Bearded Lady, the World's Fattest Man (who, as I understand it, ate chickens whole), as well as various midgets and Siamese twins. For the very reasonable aforementioned fee, normal people of the world could sit back and watch these 'freaks' put on display and exploited for monetary gain. Now, in this brave new millennium, we are keeping this wholly capitalistic tradition alive by naming this government institution by the same name as the beloved 'freak tent'. Does that answer your question, son?"
Reynolds, not really knowing how to respond to Walker's schpiel, only nodded.
"You mentioned 'monetary gain,'" said Tweed, the former crimelord. "What exactly did you mean by that?"
"Well, in this day and age, the wealthiest of the wealthy watch every weekend on a special Pay-Per-View station as these metahumans battle to the death," Walker explained. "This way, not only does the government get rich, but the carnal need for bloodshed among the lusty billionaires is satiated."
"Intersting," Tweed said, taking a swig of his coffee.
"Indeed," Walker nodded his assent. "Any other questions?"
"Where's the new guy?" Turner piped up, placing his brown fedora on his head. "This... Richards guy?"
"Mr. Richards will not be accompanying us on this morning's mission," Walker replied. "As things currently stand, he is still on official training status. Anything else?"
"Yes," Cicciotto said, defiantly holding his hand in the air. Vidalia placed her hand on his arm, in an attempt to silence him, but instead, Cicciotto rose, a man seemingly full of conviction.
"Yes, Mr. Cicciotto..." Walker said, bemusedly tilting his head to the side. "And what can I do for you?"
"You expect me to waltz into this facility and essentially destroy my own people?" the former "hero" exclaimed, emphatically slamming his fist on the table, sending a small fissure through the metal. "I was the leader of the Revolution! I am not without great powers and even greater convictions! I refuse to be bound by a small demon such as yourself! Your impish ways and twisted mind cannot rob me of my sanity! Of my convictions! Of my salvation! I am a man! I am a metahuman! And nothing you say, nothing you do, and nothing you show me can make me waver in my beliefs!"
The entire room was frozen in silence. Tears began to form in Miss Owens' eyes. Not tears of joy or of conviction or of love. Tears of fear. Turner lowered his hat over his eyes and feigned sleeping. Reynolds and Tweed exchanged a knowing smirk. Doe merely crossed his arms and kept a straight face.
Walker stood at the head of the room, an amused little smile evident on his features. He reached down, very slowly, to the tabletop, pressing yet another button. The lights brightened. The holo projector returned to its rightful place in the table and in the ceiling. A side door opened and in walked a wormy, balding man in an EPS-issue orange bodysuit. In his arms, he carried a baby with miniature asps swarming from its head.
Dr. Walter Curie walked across the room, placed "Eddie" into Dr. Walker's arms and then produced a syringe filled with a viscous black liquid.
"So, you're saying we should test the Pathogen now and save ourselves the trouble?" Walker said, bringing the needle of the syringe to the child's neck. The clone gurgled in joy as his father figure brought the pointy object closer to his flesh.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
"WAIT!" came Cicciotto's pathetic plea. "I will do as you ask..." With that, the Italian slumped into his seat, covering his face with his hands. Vidalia made no move to comfort him, but instead stifled her tears and turned her attention to Walker.
In accordance with Cicciotto's submission, Walker lowered the syringe and placed it back in Curie's hand.
"Very well, Cicciotto," Walker said, giving the babe a peck on the cheek. "It is good to see that you can be a team player..."
Cicciotto was too caught up in the emotion of the situation to hear what the man was saying.
"Now," Walker commanded, "I want you all in the jump rooms in fifteen minutes. That's 0330. Got it? Good. Dismissed."
[ 04-29-2002: Message edited by: Chewy Walrus ]
