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Chapter 2

 
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Reiso
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 4:12 pm    Post subject: Chapter 2 Reply with quote

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Chapter 2

WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE

The only noise to break the silence was the sound of the re-breather cycling. Kent could feel the sweat trickling down his sides inside the containment suit. Had he been that overheated mere moments ago when he reached out to make first contact with his prize from beneath the sea? He couldn’t remember. Why did he suddenly feel so tired? Why were his cramping legs so shaky?

Boss, I have mentioned how colossally stupid this is, right?

“You sure have, Jerry. Can’t say as I care, you guys are more than safe up there, and if we catch any flack from D.O., you just tell them you were under orders. I’ll take the heat.”

Diving Operations isn’t gonna give two shits about whether you ordered him or not, and you know it, Will! He isn’t under your authority.

“Then just tell them you tried to stop me, Sarah. I gotta do this.” Kent snapped open a heat-sealed pouch on the arm of his containment suit and took out a small cutting pen, a density meter, and a pocket GG Nanosensor, placing them all on the small metal table to his right.

Will… please? Please stop?

“Sorry, Sarah. Part of me really wants to stop, but that’s not gonna happen. I just… can’t. It’s stupid, but I can’t.” He clamped the Nanosensor down and aimed it at the sample cage. Blue lines of light formed a grid along the surface of the rock sample, and the machine blipped away as it mapped the specimen’s contours. He picked up the cutting pen and set the laser strength at an optimistic 4; about good enough to cut through basalt.

A blue haze formed around the rock sample, telling Kent that the sensor’s protective field was in place. The field was actually invisible of course—the light was for his benefit. If any lethal gases were to escape from the sample, or if radiation began leaking from it, the field would both detect and warn him, as well as temporarily contain the volatile threat long enough for him to hopefully retreat to a safe distance. That kind of protection took a lot of juice though, and he wouldn’t have much time. As he began truly contemplating the task before him, Kent found himself grateful for the suit for the first time, despite its discomfort.

He checked the sample density now that the Nanosensor was done (that meter used sonar, and radio waves and lasers didn’t always play nice), and decided to raise the strength of the cutting pen to 6. He pushed a button on the side of his visor, and his view through the glass darkened to protect his eyes from the intense light the pen would produce. “Okay, guys… here goes.” He’d managed to keep the wobble out of his voice. Not bad. He swallowed the lump in his throat, steadied his trembling hand and refused to flinch when the cutting pen flared to brilliant white life. Thrusting his reservations to the back of his mind, he made the first cut.



===_-_-_-_===


”What the hell is he thinking, Sarah? I mean, there could be anything in that rock. Anything.”

“That’s exactly what he’s thinking. He just finds that prospect more fascinating than dangerous.” Sarah seemed a little fascinated herself, as she stared at the display of the sample room. Her words had been distracted, detached. She tugged lightly at the flesh of her thumb with her teeth as she watched, her eyes all but glossed over as she waited to see what would happen next. There was little else to do at this point but join her.

The picture was practically washed out by the light as Kent torched his way through the damn rock. Vaporous smoke poured away from the stone in great billowing plumes, obscuring any details not already hidden by the light. How the hell would he even be able to tell what he found like that? “He should slow down.”

“…huh?”

Jerry sighed. Sarah tried to help—she really did. But despite her more practical sense on the surface, she was more like Kent than she knew. She was drawn by the same things as he was, and right now, that wasn’t helping at all. Jerry flipped the comm. toggle and pushed in his glasses. “Slow down, boss! You can’t see a damn thing!”

On the monitor, Kent didn’t seem to react at first. Then, after about a half second, he cocked his ear to one side as if he heard some faint buzzing in the corner.

That you, Jerry? What’s that you say?

“I said slow down, before you destroy whatever it is you’re looking for!” He had to shout over the sound of the cutting pen to be heard. He hated shouting.

Yeah, yeah… just let me get through this next bit and I’ll take a look at what we have here! Stop distracting me!

There was the unmistakable click of Kent switching his radio off. “Damn it.” There would be no talking to him or hearing what he said until he decided to turn it back on. Jerry was worried, he was more than worried. When Kent first reached out to the stone, it was several minutes before he took his hand away, and he had just stood there, silent. He hadn’t been responsive to questions, he didn’t move or twitch a muscle, he just stood there and stared at the damn thing. And now, he was cutting into it, completely cut off from their help, and they couldn’t even hear what was going on.

“It’s almost pretty, you know. The intensity of the light… it reminds me of something, but I don’t know what. It’s like something I knew a long time ago, but I’ve forgotten. I guess that sounds stupid, huh, Jer?”

“You’re enjoying this just as much as he is, aren’t you? You have any idea how much trouble we’re in if D.O. finds out about this? And that’s saying nothing of the threat that thing poses!”

“You’re too excitable, Jerry, calm down. Look—I went to bat for you, ok? We’re on the same page here. But he made his choice. We might as well get what we can out of it.

“Just like that, huh? I can’t believe you’re not even the slightest bit worried for him. Or us.”

Sarah put a hand to her brow, screwing her palm against her eye. “Of course I’m worried Jerry, but if I do nothing but sit here and worry about how worried I am, I’m gonna scream. So just shut up, ok? I don’t need this right now.”

God, he was trapped in a tin can at the bottom of the sea with crazy idiots. She didn’t need this? Kent wanted to stop, but he just couldn’t? What the hell was going on here, when did everyone take leave of their senses, and how the hell did he get stuck in this situation when he should have seen it coming from miles away?

He should have locked the door to the sample room as soon as he saw those weird readings. Better yet, he should have refused the order to bring it up with the arm in the first place, no matter what Kent had threatened, and called a risk team to check it out first. Would have, could have, should have. Jerry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and tried hard not to think about what they always said about hindsight.

“Jerry?”

“Yeah, I heard you. I won’t say another word.”

“No, Jerry… look at the screen.”

He looked, wondering exactly when it had been that he’d looked away. Before he could figure that out, he was taken aback by what he saw. There was no light from the cutting pen, which must have fallen silent. Most of the smoke produced by its cutting had dissipated into a vague haze which hung about the ceiling of the room, reflecting the orange sodium lights that illuminated the space. Any view they could have had of the specimen itself was blocked by Kent. His arms were down at his sides, though Jerry thought the angle was strange. Like penguins he thought.

“Will? Will, what’s happening?”

“He can’t hear you, Sarah, the comm. is off.”

Kent’s head was slouched down, and he seemed to pitch and sway very slightly with the motion of the submersible. Once, when Jerry was a child, he had been along with his uncle on a dive. He remembered the trip because his uncle gave him a piece of taffy, which was a very rare treat, and he had been chewing on it, enjoying the rich sweet flavor when he’d looked out a porthole and saw a man chained to a cement block. His arms had been more splayed out—one of them seemed to be reaching towards their sub, almost as if even now, after being years dead in the water, they would somehow be able to help him. Or maybe he’d just wanted to be taken back to his family. In either case, Jerry hadn’t been able to eat taffy, or even anything remotely like it ever again. Just thinking of it now brought bile to his throat. The way Kent was moving around now reminded him of that body.

“Is he in some kind of trance or something, Jerry? What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe one of us should get down there.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a—oh, god, what’s happening now?”

Kent’s body started to shudder and twitch. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, his arms and legs bucking wildly out to his sides. Jerry could see condensation on the inside of his mask, and flecks of what might be spittle. Kent’s eyes rolled back and his body was rocked by spasms again.

“It looks like he’s having some kind of seizure!”

“Oh, Jesus… Jesus Christ!”



===_-_-_-_===


Adrian Gorsht watched the tetra fish dart back and forth. There was a symmetry to the motions, no matter how random they seemed. He knew there was a pattern… what purpose it served, he couldn’t say, nor did he care. What mattered was the knowing. Knowing that nothing was random, that things happened for a reason, that very deliberate patterns surrounded us all, even where there appeared to be none; even in his tank of fish. That is what mattered.

The speaker at his desk chimed a soft pleasant tone, letting him know there was someone waiting outside his door to be admitted. He touched the surface of his desk, a spot unmarked and equally unremarkable but for the fact that Adrian knew there was a sensor imbedded in the dark glass that would detect his finger disrupting its static field, which would then issue a command to his in house system to display a hologram over his desk of whoever it was that waited to be let in. This, of course, immediately happened, and his mouth twisted down at one corner when he recognized his caller.

“Rafi, damn him.” He activated another hidden switch on his desk and the small, non-obtrusive swish of his door opening filled his ears. A dark skinned man dressed in a wine red double breasted suit with a black shirt and a white tie entered the room, as his smaller twin stepped off of Adrian’s table and ceased to exist.

“Mr. Gorsht,” the man said, inclining his head slightly and waiting to be further addressed.

Adrian did not offer him a seat. Instead, he stood from his small black chair and walked over to his marble topped bar to pour himself a whiskey. Artificial birds chirruped through the speakers of the intricate sound system that was built into his office. Blue light, and fluffy, cotton white clouds hung overhead, nearly obstructing the corners of his high arched ceiling. He took out a cigar—a real one, thank you very much, rolled with real tobacco leaves as well, not that cheap, lab farmed substitute crap—and lit it, taking a satisfying puff. Purple streaks of lightning blazed across the heavens outside as the everlasting magnetic storm raged on. Most people had darker tints on their windows because they didn’t like to see the lightning. They were disturbed by it. Not Adrian; he liked to look for patterns in the display.

“You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t news, Rafi. Might as well get it over with.”

“The motion was voted down, Sir,” said Rafi. “I thought you should be told in person.”

Adrian took another long pull on his cigar. “I suppose that is no real surprise. What about the shareholders?”

“Twenty percent have sold off, Mr. Gorscht. Another thirty percent are selling options, and are expected to jump ship before long. The rest…”

“Ah, well. It is only one of many businesses. There are other conquests before me, Rafi. Greater ones.”

“Yes, sir.” A shrill lilting chime that did not belong to anything in Adrian’s office rang out, and Rafi bowed his head in exasperation as his hand crept into his breast pocket to retrieve his phone. “This better be important, I am with Mr. Gorscht right now. Oh. When? I see… I will tell him.”

Adrian made a permissive gesture with his whiskey and cigar filled hand as Rafi snapped his phone closed. “Well?”

“Good news, for once sir. A dive team has been brought in by Emergency Services.”

“How is that good news?”

“They brought back a sample that has irregular readings and unrecognized elements.”

“So?”

“From sector 17.”

“Oh. Well, now, that is good news… where are they now?”

“Captain’s been hospitalized. His crew is detained by O.P. The sample is still aboard the sub, and the crew won’t go back in. Normally, we could swoop in and confiscate it by the regular channels, but with the motion being voted down, and stock points falling, you know Keaton will be watching our every step. May I suggest a softer approach?”

“Yes, absolutely. See to it.”

“Right away, sir.” Rafi bowed his head slightly and backed out of the office, the smooth gliding doors hissing behind him. Adrian finished his whiskey and puffed at his cigar. So another sample retrieved from sector 17? Good news indeed. Very good news.

A bright yellow spotlight shone down into his office, meant to be the sun. He stared out the window, watching the purple lightning for patterns.



===_-_-_-_===


The sun shone down on his naked chest. Gulls cried out in the distance, and he watched as one dove into the clear blue water and retrieved a fish. The cool salty air swept past him and he ran along the beach, feeling the sand between his toes. He was eight years old, and life was carefree.

Wait. How do you even know what a beach is? How do you know about gulls and sand between your toes?

I must have seen it all in a movie… there are a lot of movies from before the storm. I watch a lot of them.

Now there was a woman, a woman with dark hair and dark skin, and she was laughing. She was calling his name.

That’s my mother.

No it’s not, you stupid boy. Just another one of your movie-induced pipe dreams of a life that never was. Never can be. You’ll always be that stupid ignorant boy, thinking you can have anything you want. Thinking you can have the impossible.

Shut up! You’ll make her go away!

Too late. She already has.

No! Bring her back!

Kent tried desperately to see her again, to remember her face, her name, or who she was. Whatever voice had spoken, whether imagined or his own, did not respond. But like all details of his dreams, he found this too fading from his memory as the waking world intruded on his senses…

“…Kent? Mr. Kent, can you hear me? Can you hear me, Mr. Kent?”

“I hear you,” he said, trying to open his eyes. Where was he? How did he get here?

“Mr. Kent, I am Nurse Alessa. How are you feeling today?”

“Confused… where am I?”

“You’re on Hospital level, Mr. Kent.”

His eyes finally opened and confirmed what the nurse was saying. He was lying on a gurney, propped up by light blue pillows and attached to some horrible monstrosity of a machine that was a combination of fluid bags, wires and hoses.

“I’d like some water, please.”

Nurse Allessa swiftly retrieved a small yellow pitcher and poured into a plastic cup, handing it to him. He thanked her, and drank it, gratefully.

“Nurse… how did I get here? I can’t remember anything after going down to check on the sample…”

“I wouldn’t know, I just came on shift. There’s a man here to see you, Mr. Kent. He says he is with Diving Operations, and that the matter is fairly urgent. May I send him in?

Shit. So Jerry talked, did he? That sniveling, rat faced son of a bitch. Kent sighed. “I suppose you’d better.”

She quickly left the room, and a man dressed in a dark red suit with a white tie came into the room. “Mr. Kent. And how are we, this afternoon?”

“Afternoon? Jesus, I was out that long? What the hell happened?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out, Mr. Kent, though I’m afraid you’ve been out much longer than you think. It’s been eight days since you examined the sample—against regulations, I might add.”

Eight days? Holy fuck. Why couldn’t he remember anything?

“Look, about that…”

“With respect, Mr. Kent, save your excuses. You see, I’m not really with Diving Operations. That was just a story to get me past your nurse, though I think you already might have guessed that.”

“I kinda figured," he lied. "I mean… when’s the last time anyone down there wore a suit, right? But wait, if you’re not from D.O., then…”

“No, I don’t care what rules you have broken. I represent a private investor who has an interest in your find, Mr. Kent. And while we are not concerned with your methods, others will be. We are positioned to make that, and any other problems connected to it, go away. You and your crew can keep your jobs, no marks on your records, nothing. All we ask in return is that sample you found. Of course, cleared names are not the only thing I bring to the table.” He pulled a checkbook out of his coat pocket and removed a check from it, handing it to Kent. “Just say the word, Mr. Kent. You don’t even have to do that, just nod your head and I’ll walk out of here. Everything else will take care of itself. Tell your friends it was confiscated, we’ll back that up. Or share it if you want to, I really don’t care. Just nod your head Mr. Kent, and that check is yours."

700 Million. He’d never seen so much money in his life. Even in his wildest dreams, he was never able to plan out spending half as much money, and it was right in his hands.

“Who are you people?”

The man in the suit smiled. “Does it matter, Mr. Kent? I assure you, the check is quite good. You can see the bank it is drawn with.”

700 Million, to just nod his head. All their problems would go away, and he could fulfill his dreams—all of their dreams—all he had to do was nod. But why did these guys want it so bad? Was it even worth that much, or was it worth even more? And why couldn’t he remember anything?

What should he do?




Chapter 3

_________________


Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane


Last edited by Reiso on Thu Mar 08, 2012 10:40 am; edited 33 times in total
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 4:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ok, guys--obvious DP choices are he takes the check and runs, or he says no. I'm leaving other options up to you as I deal with my mountains of paperwork. Hope you all enjoyed it!
_________________


Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 10:32 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

So take the check and run or face a long exhausting battle over failed D.O. protocol and whatever else. That answer is a fairly obvious one when considering the type of work he is involved in, the money is an awful easy out. With that said I propose that he stalls. He should make the overtures that taking the money is a mere formality at this point and all he needs to do is "discuss" the matter with his crew. If that should gain him any extra time I would like to see him first try to take a small piece of the "sample" himself. Second to see what other offers/threats this guy with the large wallet poses.
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 12:46 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Even in his confused state waking up after eight days, this must seem too good to be true. The man has made an offer, and has not detailed any repercussions if he does not accept. Although Kent can imagine that he could easily turn them over to the D.O. and they'll never work again, any of them.

He says he represents a private investor. How can a private investor persuade the D.O. after eight days that this diving team didn't follow protocol? What have Jerry and Sarah been doing all that time? Of course Kent doesn't know they were detained by the D.O. and we don't know if they've still been detained eight days later. But he would probably guess that they've been interrogated by the D.O. at some point.

Besides, why offer the money AND offer to clear their names? 700 million means that they'll never need to work again, so who cares about cleared names? Unless this guy wants to give Kent the option of taking the money for himself and allowing his team to continue working. But that's a little complicated, for someone who's offering so much money, isn't it? That would mean either one or both of these promises cannot/will not be fulfilled.

Of course, Kent has just woken from a coma so his brain is not going to be sifting through it in so much detail. But perhaps there will be enough of an uneasy feeling that this is all too good to be true to just take - just like that.

I don't think it will be worth asking about the sample, he's unlikely to get a straight answer. But a more productive question might be to ask to see his crew. If the man is able to oblige, he can learn what happened between them and the D.O. If not, at least he'll learn there whereabouts and any resulting threats will make his position much clearer.

So I say - "Let me speak to my crew first."

Smile
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 1:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Excellent chapter! Very much enjoying this. The little descriptions, like how the contour mapping tool worked, and the desk button for the hologram. They all fit very nicely, and are good reading, to me atleast.

I also like the character you set up with Adrian... the pattern spotter! Yeah, I want to know more about him already.

You are feeding us bits and pieces of the world nicely - the storm is intriguing, even though we knew the world wasn't exactly a paradise I want to know how the storm started and how it (possibly) connects with Sector 17. You are building the mysteries on top of the mysteries very neatly and it's only Chapter 2.

~

Take the money and run... sorry, call me simple but that has to be the way forward. Take the offer, get out of 'town' for a few days, gather our head and proceed from there.

It's already more money than we can imagine, it was said. So there's little point holding out on the incredibly vague possibility of more. The money is here, now. If we find out we've been duped or something bad has happened, then we'll be in a position with money in our pocket, to investigate and do something about it if necessary. If we don't take the offer, then we're stuck at DO's whim for X amount of time.

When I say, gather our head and proceed from there, I mean split the money with the team, giving them what they expected. I don't think we'll run off with all the money.

Happy Writing. Smile
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 4:46 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Congratulationssssss Reissssso.



Thissss ssstorygame issss mosssst worthy.

Yourssssss truly goesssss hungry tonight....
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 2:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Alright, promotion, woooooo! Now all I need to do is win SGOTM and I'll be set--thanks Heady. Oh, and you scare me. Please don't eat my head.

Wow, some good feedback right at the start. Ok, in order...

...Emperor, I like the idea of Kent stalling and sneaking off to get a sample sample. I'd not thought of that, and it could potentially get interesting. As to the notion of finding out what other offers or threat this guy can pose, is there a particular course of action you would like to propose he undertake to accomplish this (as in an alternative DP, or a part 2 to the stalling DP), or were you more suggesting he should just try to fit in getting that done at some point, irrespective of the DP?

Crunchyfrog wrote:
How can a private investor persuade the D.O. after eight days that this diving team didn't follow protocol?


Hm... I think maybe I need to go back and fix it so this part is more clear. He wasn't saying that he would reveal anything to D.O. that they don't already know. D.O. is well aware of their breaches of protocol, and while Kent would not yet know this, remain detained and face losing their jobs. What he is offering is for D.O. to "forget" the whole thing. As to how he can accomplish that, well, he hasn't said. But the guy can write a check for 700 million, and I am asking the reader to assume that in this world (like in the real one), that enough money placed in the right hands can accomplish nearly anything.

Crunchyfrog wrote:
Besides, why offer the money AND offer to clear their names? 700 million means that they'll never need to work again, so who cares about cleared names?


Why indeed? Mwuahaha, mwahaha--[cough]--mwah--[cough, hack, sputter]

[clears throat]

Yes, then, well, you just keep on wondering that. Though you do raise a good point, why do the jobs matter if they are rich? Without getting too far into spoilers about how their society is arranged, violation of such strictly regulated protocols may carry with it additional consequences that a mere 700 million won't be able to make go away.

Still, a very clear demand to speak to his crew is a nice aggressive move on his part. I like it.

Smee, you are very correct about the many advantages of having the money in our pockets and being free of any D.O. entanglement. I think on paper, most of us will end up on the same page about that, especially considering that money is so important to Kent.

But what I hope no one is taking for granted here is how suspicious our mysterious benefactor is. He won't even give a name, and he wants a decision fast and now without seeming to give Kent time to think about it. Crunchy could very well be right to be concerned that either of the offers will be honored, let alone both. Kent's been around long enough to know that, and might want other assurances before just blindly accepting such a great turn of his luck. So I am going to add more DP fuel to the pot by suggesting he get assurances. Whether this be something in writing or some other demonstration, I leave to you to suggest. I'm sure you'll all think of something.

Very Happy
_________________


Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 4:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I think you need to at the very least talk to the others in the crew. You need to see what they're opinions are, although not sure they'll talk to you after what happened. I mean, he did something really stupid and all they could do was watch.

I too like the idea of a sample sample. If he can get one without having another episode.
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 06, 2009 6:41 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow! This is great!

It hardly seems like you need a Poll here... we seem to be pretty much all on the same page. It DOES seem a little too good to be true...

If I just woke up from an 8 day long coma, to be confronted with a stranger offering me oodles of money....

I'd want to see my crew. And find out WHY I'm in a hospital... what's wrong with me? Is everyone else okay? And... who is this GUY???

VERY interesting! Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:33 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Okay guys, sorry I fell behind this week, but a poll is now up. I will keep it open until next Friday, and I will try to have the next chapter out the following Wednesday if I can. If not, it will definitely be out by the following Friday.

Thanks for playing, and have fun voting.

Very Happy
_________________


Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 17, 2009 8:19 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I say take the money, don't bother talking to the crew first. I doubt they will decide to refuse the deal, as they have exactly the same incentive as Kent has and he would definitely go for it. D.O. and the 'investor' almost certainly know the exact size and weight of the sample by now. If he tries to take even a few grams he will be refused the money, he will be in even more trouble than he is now and he won't have any chance like this again.

Although... to be on the safe side, he should ask for a name of some sort so he knows who to blame if the offer's not genuine. A company name, an adress, a promise in writing.
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Reiso
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 18, 2009 9:42 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Okay, poll is closed. As before, I will delete to prevent confusion, but post the results here for posterity...

Does Kent take the 700 million?

  1. What, you gotta ask? It's 700 million!! 20% [ 1 ]
  2. Hell, no! Keep the sample if they want it so bad. 0% [ 0 ]
  3. Not until I speak with my crew. I want to speak with my crew, NOW. 40% [ 2 ]
  4. Let me think about it (after I try to get my own sample of the sample first). 40% [ 2 ]
  5. Other--you don't like these options and want me to think of something else. 0% [ 0 ]


Total Votes : 5

Who Voted: Crunchyfrog, DeadManWalking, Emperor, Smee, The White Blacksmith

...right, then. I'll go try to put our tied choices together. That will definitely take until Friday.

See you guys then!
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Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I fell a little behind with the week I've had guys, but I am working on it as you read this. I'm staying up till it's done, so hopefully not too much of a wait left.

Very Happy


EDIT: Okay, so I tried to crank out the chapter by shoving a bunch of caffeine into my system and just write write write, which if I had started even a couple of hours sooner might have made the difference. As it stands, I am minutes away from a hard crash, and what I have is sloppy, incomplete and hardly coherent in some places. I've put out good copy with only a couple of hours before, but tonight I am just nooottt there. Can you say "Epic Fail", boys and girls? I know I can.

Anyway, it is an hour or more away from being finished, and maybe two more hours to clean it up and proof the code and all that crap, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm gonna have to put this off till Sunday. Apologies all, but I would rather be a little late than put out a Chapter that sucks, you know?
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Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart."  -- Stephen Crane
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 25, 2009 6:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I know it will be worth the wait. Smile
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