They all fell silent and looked at me.
“Hello,” I said, waving a hand, thinking it would have been the done thing to smile but not quite managing it.
“Welcome,” said Daryl with a little grin. “Everyone, he needs no introduction, really, but here he is. This is Dave. Dave Smith.”
“Hi, Dave,” they all mumbled.
The woman smiled but the other two nerds just sort of stared at me distantly, as if I’d just landed from another planet.
“Well,” said Daryl, rubbing his hands together. “Shall we get started?”
He pulled a chair back and sat down eagerly. I edged forwards to the nearest seat, opposite Daryl and the girl. The other two sat around the corner of the giant table to the left of me, near the drinks and biscuits, which I eyed jealously.
“Just help yourself to coffee if you want,” said the woman, once again smiling openly at me through the blinding redness of her hair and the colourful jazzmatazz of her blouse.
She was quite lovely, I realised with a sinking feeling.
“Thanks,” I said, doing my best not to blush.
“Yes, of course, Dave,” added Daryl. “Go for it.”
I stood up and shuffled over to the refreshments.
As I made my coffee and placed several bickies onto a plate, there was silence. I could feel their eyes on the back of my head. Why couldn’t they just keep blabbering like before? I returned to my seat uncomfortably. I sipped the coffee and scoffed the biscuits. They all watched me, waiting for God knows what. Daryl was looking at me with a little grin.
“Nice biscuits,” I managed to say through a mouthful of one.
“Right,” said Daryl, rubbing his hands together, his voice far too full of zip for my liking and consequently causing me to wince. “Well, everyone, I want to welcome you all to the first official board meeting of Leading Edge Solar Ray Research Materials Ltd.”
He stood and smiled for a moment, seemingly waiting for a response. Everyone just sat awkwardly. What did he expect? Applause?
“The first meeting?” I said, wondering how that could be.
“Yes, Dave,” said Daryl, looking down at me with surprise and annoyance. “Now that we have you on board, our final shareholder, we are ready to go.”
One of the two guys, the one with the floppy hair, coughed. “Since you mentioned shares, Daryl, can I ask you to clarify the stakeholding of the Omega Group in the company?” He spoke in a heavily nasal voice.
“We’ve discussed this, Marcus,” said Daryl. “Let’s not go into that here.”
“We didn’t finish our discussion though, did we?” said Marcus. “And this is our first official board meeting. I’d like everyone to be clear from day one.”
Daryl took a deep breath.
“Okay, well, as you mention it, a significant portion of my own shares are underwritten by Omega.”
“Right…” Marcus nodded. “And your stake is?”
“Oh come on, Marcus. Please.”
“Daryl,” said the woman. “Why can’t you—”
“Alright, it’s seventy per cent, okay? The rest are divided between you and Byron, with Molly taking a smaller share, and Dave here also… taking a share. Shall we continue?”
“So the Omega Group is the majority shareholder?”
“No,” said Daryl, starting to sound a bit annoyed. “I am.”
“But your shares are underwritten by Omega, so if—”
“Look, Marcus, you do know all this already. That’s how we secured the funding and support necessary for a project of this scope to get off the ground. Your own stake is not in question. Now can we please move on?”
I found this whole discussion rather concerning on several levels. Firstly, it reminded me of my own measly two per cent. Perhaps I should feel cheated? Yet I couldn’t help remind myself that everyone else here was a much bigger professional than me and would be working hard at proper jobs, whereas I was simply there to piss in a bin. But more interestingly, there was this Omega Group. They were definitely important, it seemed, a lot more so than Daryl had led everyone to believe in the hearing. In fact, it was dawning on me that there were various things Daryl hadn’t been quite truthful about during that hearing. He’d definitely made it sound like his company was well established, whereas in fact it appeared that it had only just been set up and was actually mostly owned by this international network thing.
I looked around at the room. It was tense. Everyone had their heads down, even Daryl.
“Right,” said Daryl, expelling air, trying to draw a line under the little spat just passed. “Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together, forcing a fierce smile, though somehow also managing to look rather uncomfortable. “So as you all already know, some truly amazing things have been happening, and we are extremely privileged to have put together the team we have: us four, all the other rock-solid scientists, technicians, and materials specialists who will be working here, and of course to now have Dave here joining us on a permanent basis. I know we’ve all discussed this in detail, so no need to embarrass Dave by going over the gory details of his, er”—he struggled with the words, just like every bugger seemed to—“condition. The point is, we are extremely fortunate to have the exclusive benefit of his… unique contribution, and we are perfectly placed to make full use of it and develop a true wonder material, something that is going to change the world. Dave’s going to be our secret sauce. Our rocket fuel. Our—” He stopped in his tracks, turning that mess of an expression onto me. “We’re all massively excited to have you on board, Dave. I just wanted to say that. With you on the team, we’re going to be streets ahead of the competition. You’re going to be our star player.”
I heard one of the two nerdy blokes snigger, though I wasn’t sure which one. Daryl kept on doing that winning smile thing, but I just nodded, careful not to be too sceptical-looking or to appear like an ungrateful sod.
“So,” he said, once again rubbing his hands, “let me introduce you to the esteemed members of our board. Get that out of the way.”
I was about to say “okay,” but he launched straight into it.
“This lovely young woman—” He turned to the woman.
“Daryl…” she grumbled.
“This exceptional young lady,” he corrected himself, “is Dr Molly Cartwright, our resident biological materials scientist and a graduate of Harvard and Oxford, no less.”
“Just call me Molly,” she said dryly, raising her eyebrows as if to say it was all bollocks.
“Molly is going to be our resident expert on all things natural and biological, which is to say she will help us innovate our materials development iterations with the benefit of mother nature’s inspiration.”
“Eh?” I said.
God, he could be wordy sometimes.
“I study the natural world.” She looked at me sympathetically. “And will apply that knowledge to the design of our materials.”
“Oh, I see,” I said, not really seeing but appreciating that she had spoken to me in an extremely matter-of-fact, down-to-earth way and not at all like she was talking to either a child or a total prat.
She nodded seriously, apparently happy that I did understand.
“She is also, Dave, going to be running your physical programme, but more on that later.”
I was about to question this, but then Daryl continued, cutting me off before I could begin.
“And this dapper young fellow”—he waved his hand towards the floppy-haired bloke at the far end of the table, the one who had embarrassed him before—“is Marcus.”
“Dr Marcus Davenport,” added Marcus with a self-deprecating little laugh that I found instantly off-putting.
“Yes,” said Daryl. “He too has several degrees, though not quite in the same league as Molly.”
“Nothing wrong with Manchester.”
“Of course not, Marcus.”
Daryl looked at me as if we were sharing a joke at Marcus’s expense. I only stared a
t him blankly, since I couldn’t see the slightest thing funny.
“Marcus is our head of materials engineering,” said Daryl with a little cough. “But I thought instead we might all call you Scotty.”
“Oh come on. Please, Daryl…” Marcus waved his hand.
“No, no, come on you, please, Marcus,” said Daryl. “I want us all to feel like one happy team, and I want Dave to be a part of that—one of the team. Or should I say the crew.”
Daryl laughed to himself again, apparently unaware or uncaring that no one else was.
“I like Star Trek,” I said, looking at Marcus.
“I don’t…” he said sadly, shaking his head, taking a puff of his electric ciggie thing.
“I do,” said the nerdy guy with the glasses and the Hawaiian shirt sat next to him.
Daryl continued with his introductions. “Ah yes, and finally, we have Byron.”
Byron nodded seriously at me, his spectacles giving his eyes an enlarged, bug-like quality.
“Byron is our technical genius. He will be working closely with Marcus in the running of our development,” explained Daryl. “Not one to get into conversation with at a party, but he does have a fantastic brain on his shoulders.”
“I am Professor Byron Krasinski,” he said, “formerly head of Imperial College’s advanced materials unit.”
“Right,” I said, nodding.
“It was I who first examined your urine and tested it on some material composites I have been experimenting with,” explained Professor Byron whatever-his-name-was. “It’s amazing stuff, your urine. Phenomenal. Quite out of this world. You’re most welcome in our labs any time, Dave. Downstairs, I mean. Once we’re fully operational. I am always open to a chat if you want any of our technical work explained.”
“Just don’t ask Daryl,” added Marcus with another of his little half-laughs. “Speak to Byron or myself. Daryl is very good at talking, but he doesn’t know the first thing about what we are actually doing.”
“I’m only the CEO after all.” Daryl smiled and shrugged.
“I will admit he does know how to scrounge money,” added Marcus.
Daryl nodded. “Ah yes, I am an excellent scrounger. It’s a crucial skill when the costs of the equipment your development team requires easily run into seven figures, wouldn’t you say, Dave?”
At this point, Daryl was nodding at me and giving me a rather threatening smile.
“I guess so,” I said.
Carefree though he acted, it was obvious there was a smidgen of tension amongst this cheery lot.
“Well, Dave,” he said. “How about you? Would you like to introduce yourself to our motley crew?”
I took a deep breath and expelled the necessary cough. This was the bit I had been dreading.
“Hi, everyone,” I said, just launching in and throwing caution to the wind. “I’m Dave. Until about two weeks ago, I was just like anybody.” Well, I thought, not like any of you lot. “Normal lad, normal life, you know. Then one night I was down the pub and this”—I struggled for the word—“this thing started happening to me. Bloody awful thing too, as I’m sure you all know about, so I won’t go into it here and now. I spent some time in a police cell and was very pleased when Daryl came along and told me about this special material you’ve all cooked up. Offered to take care of me. His mum was nice too. She helped me out a bit. Er… anyway, I’ll try my best to be what you need, and thanks very much for the money. I haven’t got any fancy degrees or anything like that… not stupid though, mind you. Next time I won’t dress like I’m going to a funeral either, I’ll just—”
“Okay, Dave,” said Daryl, raising a hand. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
I looked around the room. Marcus and Byron were staring at me seriously. It was hard to tell what they thought, really. Molly, on the other hand, was looking down at her fingers and wouldn’t look up. I got the feeling for some reason she was struggling to keep a straight face.
*****
The meeting continued with them discussing some boring businessy sort of stuff, and then Marcus and Byron hijacked the proceedings with some technical issues they wanted to air straight away.
“So, Daryl,” said Marcus, loading his words with menace. “Can you give us an update on the T17s? Can we install or are there any further ‘roadblocks’?” He did a little sarcastic quotation marks sign with his fingers. “I do hope there aren’t. It really is quite a nuisance not being able to regulate molecular structuring without efficient atomizers.”
“I get it, Marcus,” said Daryl, sounding tired. “I really do. But I’m still working on it.”
“What? Still?” whined Marcus. “You do know we will never be able to reach stage 4 lattices without the necessary tools. The ability to ionize a dense particle superstructure is not something you can just do with tweezers and a standard compressor, you know.”
Byron laughed and nodded at that.
“I am aware of that,” said Daryl. “And as I said, I am working on it. We all want the same thing, but there are a lot of regulatory hoops to jump through. We do need to stay above board, you know.”
“But if we’re going to—” Byron started to say.
Daryl cut him off. “In any case, we have Dave here now and the full backing of our investors. Whatever equipment we need can be got. Plus, I should remind everyone we are to make full use of the Omega databases and analytical programmes. Frank is very pleased; all the Omega bigwigs are. He told me to let you all know. So I suggest that until the issue of the T17s is resolved, we all just focus on the existing resistance capabilities, using Dave’s resource to the fullest.”
I assumed by “resource” he meant my wee.
“Which brings me on to you, Dave.” Daryl turned to me. “First order of business for you this afternoon: you’re to get started with Molly.”
Molly gave me a momentary look.
“Right…” I said.
“Molly here is going to be in charge of your physical condition and regulating the potency of your urine.”
I noticed a smile flash momentarily over her face.
“Don’t worry,” said Daryl. “There won’t be anything”—he searched for the word—“invasive.”
“I’ll be monitoring your health,” explained Molly. “Running tests and also experimenting with your diet. My job is to look after you and try to get to the bottom of what’s happened to you.”
“Right,” I said awkwardly.
“Ah yes,” added Daryl, nodding around the table and looking at everyone with a very serious face. “That part is extremely important: finding out what this thing is you’ve got, why this is going on. That’s fundamental. Isn’t it, everyone?”
Marcus and Byron nodded and mumbled their agreement, though I got the distinct impression that, aside from Molly, they couldn’t have really given a toss. What’s more, I was experiencing a distinctly queasy feeling as I thought of working with her and what was to come from that. Monitoring my health? Experimenting with my diet? In my experience, what with the madness of Weight Watchers and the like, women were generally much more “health conscious” and pickier with what they ate than men. I’d certainly overheard enough female conversations at work to know that most did not consider a super-sized Whopper meal to be a daily staple. Whatever this good lady was going to make of me, I doubted it would be anything good.
Chapter 4
When I finally managed to escape that meeting, I felt very lost. I was on my own and extremely aware of it. Alone at Solar Ray, which was staffed by all sorts of people who I had absolutely nothing in common with.
Also, listening to them all bang on and niggle each other for over an hour, it was far from transparent to me what they were all hoping to achieve at this company, what they would actually be doing. They were developing this wonder material, which sounded cool, but for me it was still a very hazy sort of an idea. It could withstand my wee and maybe be used on rocket ships. A bit vague, really. Then there seemed to be this whol
e load of relationships running behind everything, but that was mostly a blur to me. Did they all hate Daryl? What was the deal with this Omega lot that seemed to be paying for everything? Since I was the lad getting paid to pee the acid wee, breaking all known laws of physics, biology and chemistry and all that, things were beginning to take on a vaguely suspicious look to me, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on any specific thing to be worried about.
But more than all this, to be honest, I simply felt alone in that crazy shebang they call London, in the heart of Shoreditch Village, a place known only vaguely to me as a hub of overpaid tech-obsessed hipsters. I didn’t know a soul or even where the best value fast food restaurants were, and this was where I now lived. What’s more, I was a freak of nature with a dangerous and terrible secret that I was now both contractually and legally obliged to keep.
Sat on my bed in my basement room, I stared uneasily at my mobile and charger, which still lay there accusingly on the table.
“You have mates in Crawley, Dave,” it seemed to be saying. “Normal people you know well. Why not give them a call?”
Yes, I thought, but I couldn’t tell them anything, really, could I? And I couldn’t shake the thought that they wouldn’t want to talk to me. After what the police had told me, about them all denying they’d seen me pee acid, and what the judge had said about all witnesses being under court order to keep it all a secret, I had little reason to trust them or expect any support. Besides, even if they did want to see me, I couldn’t go to Crawley to see them, not with my condition, and coming into London would be its own big deal and hassle for most of them too.
It was only Martin I really wanted to speak to. I felt sorry for him, because we went back aways and what with the broken foot and everything. But the best thing would just be to leave them all alone. Martin’d do much better without me anyway. I’d ruined his life enough.
Huffing in frustration, I opened a drawer and dumped the phone and charger in there. See no evil, hear no evil. Or something like that. I forced myself to shake off my prattish mood, to just put up and shut up and stay the course.
Curse of the Potency Page 3