Price stared blankly at her, then looked over at Werner.
"They sweat," Werner explained. "They sweat out the product, Mr Price."
Price's eyes widened slightly as he worked out the implications of this. The grin resurfaced. He really was an exceptionally handsome man: his facial symmetry was easily in the upper two per cent by Smithers' reckoning. She found herself wondering what sort of gluteal symmetry Price was sporting, and made a note to make an extensive study of the security tapes later that evening.
Price glanced at Werner. "Well, why can't we produce it now, then? It seems to me all we need is some folks willing to sweat for pay..."
Werner opened his mouth to reply, but Smithers cut in smoothly. "Indeed, sourcing permanent staff is part of stage four. You have excellent foresight, Mr Price. However, we encountered a significant technical difficulty which was delaying progress. We have developed a mitigation, but now we need to integrate it into our production processes." She saw the looming figure of Roberts following closely behind them, listening closely. "Once catalyzed, the reaction continues indefinitely. We need a way to stop it. We've got something that will do the trick, but it is difficult to bulk produce. Unlike the catalyst, the inhibitor does not lend itself to yeast. We're having to grow it in a transgenic. At the moment, we're trialling several different varieties of fruit."
They came to a halt in front of a door labeled: TRIALS. "Well," Smithers said, "Here we are!"
Product Demo
Spiders are a terrible fashion choice.
The main testing room was just down the hall, but it was undergoing serious cleanup after the last round of trials, and they had agreed there was no need to burden the client with that kind of extraneous detail. A perfectly acceptable trial space had been set up in what had once been the office cafeteria. An assortment of equipment and medical gear had been set up on one of the counters, and there was a chair bolted to the floor nearby. The chair had been fitted with a large safety belt, for the comfort and safety of the testers.
A pair of techs looked up guiltily from the kitchen table as Smithers entered. "I told you to be gone by three," she hissed, giving them a withering look. The techs gathered up their playing cards and scurried for the far door, but she stopped one with a hand on his arm. "Since you're here, make yourself useful and get the subject in here, pronto. And find Theroux! He's supposed to be running this mess." She reopened the main door, giving Price her best smile as she did so, and motioned the men inside. "We'll be set in just one moment. Would you like coffee, Mr Price?"
He flashed that stunning smile at her. "I'm good for now, Ms Smithers. Maybe I could take you out for a coffee later, though."
Smithers willed herself to blush prettily, though she wasn't sure how well it came off with her coloring. She opened her mouth to reply when the far door banged open and the new test subject emerged, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts. He came in rather reluctantly, with a hulking lab tech just behind him. Theroux was with them, thank goodness. He looked as clean as Smithers had seen him in weeks, and he'd even taken the trouble to tie his dreadlocks into a bun. She did wish he'd done something about the facial tattoos, though. Technically he was supposed to be wearing cover-up during work hours, but apparently someone had snorted the last of it at a recent office party...
She snapped herself back to the present. "Gentlemen, would you like to take a seat? The trial is about to begin."
The big tech prodded the test subject towards the bolted-down chair. A line of seats had been set up opposite, and Smithers smilingly invited the men to sit down. The test subject, a dark-haired young man of about twenty, glanced up at them in astonishment. "Mr Roberts...?" he stammered. "Is that you? I didn't know you would be - "
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, my boy," Roberts said heartily, as the techs hustled the youth towards the chair. "Mr Price - this is Jenkins, our new intern. He's already made a big impression on us these first few weeks, haven't you, Jenkins?"
"Well, uh... that's nice of you to say, sir..." Jenkins stammered as they put him in the chair. He looked rather pale, and was sweating visibly even though they hadn't dosed him yet.
"A real go-getter, that's what he is," Roberts proclaimed. "The kind of employee we need more of around here. You've got big things ahead of you, young man!"
"I, ah... thank you, sir..." Jenkins squeaked, as Theroux snapped the safety belt tightly into place.
"Is he all right?" Price murmured as Smithers took her seat.
"Oh, yes," Smithers said. "He is simply overwhelmed by Mr Roberts' generosity." She made a sympathetic sound as Jenkins looked around wildly. "Look at him - he's positively misty-eyed. He's a true star for Werner/Roberts Incorporated."
With Jenkins strapped in, the big tech retreated momentarily from the room and emerged with a heavy metal case, which he set down next to the chair. He popped the top and laid out several objects in quick succession: a smaller metal case about the size of a pack of cigarettes; two sets of heavy gloves; two bits of visored headgear that resembled riot helmets; and several water bottles. Price watched, fascinated; Jenkins watched as well, misty-eyed all over again. Theroux and the big tech each donned a helmet and a set of gloves.
Price cleared his throat. "Do we need safety gear?"
"No," Smithers reassured him. "The catalyst is highly skin-soluble, but we're perfectly fine back here. Our techs, however, need to be careful not to get any on their face and hands."
Price frowned. "Is it that dangerous?"
"Our product is extremely safe," Smithers trilled, "for a drug in this stage of trial. It's in the upper forty per cent of all drugs we've trialled in terms of beta-phase testing non-lethality! So no, nothing to worry about there. Even if the techs somehow got it on their skin, they would be in no physical danger so long as we applied the inhibitor in a timely fashion. However, for the sake of objectivity, our testers need to be absolutely sober while the trial is underway." She caught herself sneaking a glance at Theroux as she said this, but fortunately Price didn't seem to catch the implications.
Theroux, now fully geared up, picked up the small metal box and tapped a series of buttons running down the side. The top of the box slid open with a faint hissing sound and a tiny cloud of dry ice flowed over the edges and tumbled towards the floor. Theroux reached carefully into the box and drew out what appeared to be a tiny eye dropper filled with a strange, multicolored liquid.
"It's so small..." Price said. "How much does it take?"
Werner smiled proudly. "Very little, Mr Price. Very little indeed. Watch."
Theroux lifted the dropper and approached the intern, who was twitching and looking rapidly from one face to the next. He was saying something under his breath, but Smithers couldn't make it out. The big tech went to stand by his side with a water bottle in hand.
"You're a go-getter, Jenkins!" Roberts shouted suddenly. "What are you!?"
"I'm a go-getter, sir!" Jenkins whimpered. And then Theroux reached out and deposited a single drop of liquid into the back of his hand.
"Trial underway," the big tech grunted. "Time of commencement - day 278, 3:07 p.m. Monitor vital signs." The machine on the nearby bench whirred to life, lights blinking, drives humming. "Vital signs good," the big man said. "Blood pressure 126 over 85. Heartbeat 90 - slightly elevated." He glanced at Theroux.
"It's just nerves, man," Theroux drawled. He carefully put the dropper back in its little case and then leaned over until his face was level with Jenkins'. "How you feelin', man?"
Jenkins frowned. The fearful look on his face had faded, and confusion was creeping in. "I..." he said, then stopped again. "I don't think this is working," he said. "I don't feel anything at all."
Price stirred in his seat, looking concerned. Smithers laid a hand on his arm, roughly two inches above the wrist - friendly, not too intimate. She would have liked to go a few inches higher, perhaps tuck her thumb in the crook of his well-toned biceps, but it was important to stay professional. "It's fine," sh
e said. "Everything is working as expected, Mr Price."
"But Ms Smithers," he murmured, managing to sound both sexy and concerned at the same time. “You said the catalyst takes effect almost instantly..."
"I don't feel anything," Jenkins repeated. "I just feel... normal." He paused a moment, staring up at Theroux. "Why are you covered in spiders?"
Smithers eased her hand off Price's arm and gave him her best smile. "Everything is going according to plan, Mr Price."
"Hoooo boy," Jenkins said. He had gone rather pale, and sweat was now visibly beading at his brow. "Water," Theroux commanded. Obediently, the big tech stuck a bottle of water in Jenkins' mouth. The intern drank greedily; within seconds the bottle was empty.
"That's good, little buddy," the tech said. He glanced at Theroux. "Hand me another one, boss. He's gonna need it."
"Right. Just a sec." Theroux had fished out a small notepad. He jotted something down and then passed the tech another bottle.
"Hey!" Jenkins yelled. "Don't touch that guy, he's covered in spiders!"
The big tech chuckled. "Drink up, buddy," he said, and shoved the bottle into Jenkins' open mouth. Jenkins continued to make concerned noises as he sucked. "Heart rate at 90, stable," the tech said, glancing over at the machine. "Blood pressure dropping: 110 over 75."
Roberts cackled and clapped Price on the shoulder. "Take a look, m'boy. This is where the magic happens."
Smithers rose from her seat, beckoning Price to follow. "Approach the subject, Mr Price. You'll want to see this up close."
Price stood, still looking slightly concerned. "We're not going to interfere with him, are we? I thought we weren't supposed to interact with - "
Smithers laughed reassuringly. "No, no, don't worry about that. He's past the point of worrying about us now. Here - look."
They edged closer, careful to stay out of the technicians' way. Price was leaned forward, watching intently, and then let a out a low whistle as the first crystals began to form on the subject's skin. "Oh, my," he said. "Is that... is that it?"
"It is indeed, Mr Price. This - this is what you've been waiting for."
"Sampler," Theroux barked. The big tech handed him a small plastic device that looked like a dust buster. It hummed into life and Theroux ran it over the subject's skin. It made a brisk crackling noise as it sucked up the crystals and deposited them in a clear central chamber. They continued to form on Jenkins' skin, clustering at his temples and on the exposed skin of his arms. "It looks like... salt," Price said.
"It contains high levels of sodium," Smithers said, "Along with many other interesting compounds. Serotonin, Tryptamine..."
Jenkins brayed laughter as the tech ran the little vacuum across the back of his neck. "Oh man," he said. "Look at that dude! Ahahahahahahaha!"
His eyes were on Price, who looked rather wounded. "I thought he was beyond noticing us," he said.
"Don't worry," Werner said. "He's not really talking to you at this point. Don't take it personally - "
"Ahahahahahaha!" Jenkins brayed. "Look at you, you big gangly fuck! You dumb monkey!" He shook in his seat, head thrown back, howling with glee. "You think you can change things? You?? You couldn't even get that girl to come to the church dance with you when you were fifteen!"
"Remember, this is just the precursor," Smithers said soothingly. "These reactions, while interesting, are just a step along the way to producing the final finished - "
"Ahahahahaha, you sick bastard!!!" Smithers howled. "Ahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargggh..." his laugh trailed off into a howl of dismay. "Oh shit!" he yelled. "My eyeball fell out! My fuckin' eyeball fell out!!!" He looked at Price in horror.
"Your eyeball's fine, man," Thoreoux said.
"He smited me! I've been smited! Ohgodohgodohgod..."
"Blood pressure dropping," the lab tech said. "90 over 65. Crystal production dropping."
"Just a little longer," Theroux said. "Gotta get it all off of him or we risk contamination. A few more seconds..."
"They mocked his messengers," Jenkins moaned, lolling in his seat. "They despised his words!"
Price's mouth fell open. "What?" he said. "What did he just say?"
"And then there was no remedy," Jenkins wailed. "Ohmygodohmygodohm..."
"Okay, that's enough," Theroux said. "Give him the inhibitor, stat."
Price moved forward suddenly, perilously close the subject. He was staring at Jenkins, close, almost touching him. "Mr Price!" Smithers called. "Don't get any on you!"
But Price barely heard her: he only had eyes for Jenkins. "What did you say?"
Jenkins' eyes cleared and locked on Price. "You have to save the girl, Hellfire," he said in a low clear voice. "Do you understand? Everything else can burn - but you have to save the girl."
The big technician reached into his case and pulled out an intimidatingly large needle, which he plunged unceremoniously into Jenkins' upper thigh.
"Aaahh FUCK!" Jenkins exclaimed. His head snapped towards the technician. "Dude, you almost stabbed me in the dick!"
"Blood pressure stabilizing," the big tech said. "115 over 75. Heart rate steady at, let's see... 78."
"Mr Jenkins?" Smithers said. "How are you feeling?"
"I..." Jenkins blinked at her. "I actually feel pretty good. That was interesting - I really felt something for a minute there." He looked around at them, frowning. "I've gotta say, though, I feel like I came into this whole thing with bad intentions. I mean, what... I'm willing to risk my health, maybe my life even... for what? Just to rise up in the ranks of some pharmaceutical company? And for what? More money? Shit, I'd have plenty of money if I didn't spend it all on stupid crap." He gave a low whistle. "Phew. Man, I've really gotta take a look at my priorities."
"Get him out of here," Roberts growled.
The two techs unbuckled the seatbelt and hustled Jenkins toward the exit. He went willingly enough: as they went through the doors he put an arm around Theroux's shoulders and whispered something in his ear.
Price gazed after them. "What on earth was that man saying?" he murmured.
"I believe he just told Theroux that he loved him," Werner said helpfully.
"No - I meant before that..."
"I will remind you all that the precursor is not the end product," Smithers said brightly. "While interesting and sometimes amusing, what the subject says under its influence should not be taken seriously. It's the workings of the subject's subconscious, nothing more." She held a hand out impatiently to Theroux, who put the vacuum in her hand. Smithers deftly popped it open and pulled out the central chamber, which was about three-quarters full of that strange salty substance. "Here it is, Mr Price. You wanted proof that we were serious, and now you have it. This - this is Sacrament." She smiled. "Sacrament 2.57, to be precise."
"Sacrament," Price said in a low voice. "Yes, oh yes... that's exactly what it will be."
"We only have one more problem to solve, and that's how to ramp up production to an industrial level. The inhibitor is the last piece of the puzzle. Once we have that..." she smiled. "Once we have that, you will be a new power in this world, Mr Price. As will Werner/Roberts Inc."
Price gingerly took the product from her. "So - the inhibitor - that was what was in that giant horse needle?"
Smithers laughed. You silly, handsome man, the laugh said. "We don't use horse needles, Mr Price. That would be most unhygienic. But yes, an 8-gauge needle is rather unwieldy, and we are working on that. We are currently trialling a spray bottle, but until that is perfected, the needle has proved to be the most reliable delivery system."
"All right," Price said. He looked rather dazed by it all; she took the opportunity to take him comfortingly by the arm. "I'll see you out," she said. "It's a lot to think about, I know. Here, take my card - if you have any questions you can call me any time."
He took the card, and she steered him toward the exit.
By the time they had reached the main doors Price was sliding back to his old smooth self.
"That was very impressive, Ms Smithers," he said, his eyes finding hers and then slipping down to her decolletage. "You have set my mind at ease in more ways than one. I hope you'll have more good news for me soon..."
"I'm sure we will, Mr Price," Smithers said, looking at his left earlobe and wondering what it might taste like. "Take care now, and remember - call me any time!"
"I most certainly will!" Price said.
He tipped his hat to her and crossed the street to where his car was waiting. Smithers watched him go. As he crossed the road, she became aware that someone else was watching too, from the shadow of a nearby building. It was a young woman, Smithers' age or perhaps a little older. She was tall, rather athletic-looking, and for some reason she was dressed in a ridiculous period costume that looked like it came from last century. You never know with the weirdos around here, Smithers thought. The woman did not appear to have noticed her: she only had eyes for Price. As if, Missy! Smithers thought, eying her with disdain. You? With those man-shoulders? Dream on!
She went back inside and punched the intercom. "Security? One of the local freaks is hanging around outside. Can you send a patrol to move her on, please? We have another client coming in at four."
"Yes ma'am," a voice crackled. "I'm right round the corner - be there in about 30 seconds. Stay on the line if you like, and I'll let you know she's gone."
"Excellent. Thank you."
Smithers waited dutifully. A few moments later, the intercom crackled back into life.
"No sign of her, Ms Smithers. She must have moved on already. You want to log a description in case she turns up again?"
"No - don't bother," Smithers said. "She's no one important."
Industrial Espionage
"Baby, forgive me for saying so, but you're not real good at this shit."
As Armageddon drifted away from the Werner/Roberts building, a mysterious voice spoke to her, as if carried by the wind. "Hey baby," it said. "You need a little somethin'? Little help, baby?"
Armageddon Hyde in The Chosen and the Damned Page 6