Evil In Gucci

Now he has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That means nothing. People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.
--Albert Einstein (1879-1955)
***
She pushed the headband back and returned to the images blinking on the screen. Deftly tapping, her fingers picked their way over the keyboard. Music played faintly next to her but the notes weren't important. Sentences appeared in seconds, each word calculated and secure, anchored in numbers. She hummed the tune and quickly saved.
Claire leaned back, finally allowing the music to absorb her, and smiled. Drums beat steadily until the hollow swish of the door tried work into the song.
She quickly opened her eyes and tapped the stop button on her stereo before turning and standing to see who came to visit. She didn't recognize the visitor.
May I help you? The Keeper said, reforming a cold demeanor unconsciously.
***
He tasted the coppery blood on his tongue. He sucked on the wound till the stinging stopped before finally removing it from his lips and returning to work.
Darien felt the paper cut with annoyance but tried to ignore his injured finger. Just three more pages to go. He stared at the fresh form in front of him and felt certain he'd filled it in an hour ago. The paperwork Eberts managed to find seemed endless, an ever flowing fountain of bureaucracy.
He smiled at the analogy before being disturbed by his partner's shout.
I'm done! Hobbes declared, looking up at Darien with sickening pride, Do you hear me Fawkes? I'm finished, fin, finis, finisimo, with this paper crap. How much do you have left?
his disgruntled friend grumbled, the word dripping with resentment.
A cinch, you'll be done in fifteen or less, Hobbes started for the door of their office before pausing, You wanna reward ourselves for bubble sheets well done with a coupla beers after?
Fawkes sighed, still eyeing the sheet he responded, Can't, Claire rounded me up for tests when I'm done.
Sorry to hear that partner... Bobby paused before continuing, I'll hang around till your done, maybe Claire could use my help with something.
Darien held in a laugh upon hearing Hobbes' excuse for going down to The Keep.
I'm sure she'll appreciate it, Fawkes said in less than subtle sarcasm, the letters set in toner threatened to dance in front of his eyes, To hell with this, I'm blowing off the last three forms.
A good choice, my friend, Hobbes spoke pleased with his friend's decision.
Darien stood up, cracking his neck and joining Bobby by the door, before adding, Come on Don Juan, let's go see us a Keeper.
***
The tall caucasian man only seemed to notice her when she spoke. His dark suit contrasted sharply against the stark metal door, but his glistening mustache and hair seemed to blend right in.
Of course you can help me, Claire, he said, smiling broadly and speaking her name with familiarity.
May I see some identification? she spoke with out pause, taking what he knew of her in stride.
Don't worry, I'm perfectly cleared by your... he chuckled before continuing, Official.' But if it makes you feel better...
Claire tensed slightly when he reached in side his jacket. He pulled out an identification badge which clearly read: Marcus Dumont; National Security Agency.
She didn't relax when she saw the NSA affiliation.
I see, was all she responded.
he spoke casually, I won't bite. I want to talk to you Claire but first... allow me to get my colleagues.
***
Fawkes and Hobbes walked breast in breast down the badly lit hallway, even in step until the door to The Keep was in view. Four men were standing less then relaxed out side the secured metal door separating them from Claire.
Hobbes stopped, holding his palm up, hoping Fawkes would get the message. Darien looked down at Bobby curiously and halted his step also.
Tilting his chin towards the men outside The Keep, Fawkes was the first to speak, You mean you don't know those guys?
And you do? Hobbes said, looking up at his partner.
No, but I don't know half the guy's who work here. You do.
They don't.
Work here?
Exactly, my friend.
Think they're new? Let's find out.
Without glancing back at his partner, Darien continued to stroll whistling down the hall. Hobbes watched as his partner was stopped from coming within five feet of the metal door. The man who stopped Fawkes shook his head and pointed back down the hall, while speaking some authoritative words. Fawkes eased back from the man, then turned his back on him as he walked back up to Hobbes.
Didn't let you in did they? Bobby said stating the obvious.
No, how'd you know? Fawkes turned his head back to the men down the hall, Something's definitely up.
Yeah, now I REALLY want to get in The Keep.
Think a dollar on a string'll distract Darien suggested playfully.
Hobbes looked at Darien annoyed but offered, I'll bet you that dollar the Fatman know's what's up.
I'm not taking that bet.
Bobby smiled, before joining Fawkes in his fast paced walk back up stairs.
***
Mr.Dumont turned on heel and reopened the door, he spoke with the four men outside for a minute before allowing for two of the suited men to enter, the others remained outside, standing guard. The new men seemed less at home in their surroundings than Dumont.
I suggest you make an appointment Mr.Dumont. This is my laboratory, your interfering with work, The Keeper voiced, regaining power in her territory.
That's really not nessacary, Claire, Dumont said like her reaction was theatrics, but his deceptively warm tones continued, After all we're just stopping by, but if you'd take a seat...
He took a step towards her and gestured towards a chair. Claire held her footing and met the gaze of her visitor.
***
The pair halted when they saw their rotund employer standing at the top of the stairs. Before they could start with inquiries he spoke.
I should have expected to see you two, The Official said begrudgingly.
Yeah well, we don't like to disappoint, Darien shot in.
So Chief, Hobbes began, Can you tell us why if we go down these stairs we find something that doesn't belong?
I don't know what your talking about, their superior said quickly.
Come on boss, Fawkes said rolling his eyes, The men blocking the door to The Keep? Ya know in the sinister looking suits?
They have clearance, and their business's with The Keeper, not you.
Well we have to get into The Keep, so I think it is.
You don't decide that, I let them in. And your not allowed in there till I or they say you are. Understand? The Official raised his eyebrows looking between the two men sternly.
Fawkes opened his mouth to say more but no sound came out when he saw The Official's face and realized it wouldn't do any good.
Let's go Fawkes, Hobbes said dejected and nodded his head back down the stair case.
Sure whatever, Darien's tone matching Bobby's.
Together the two made their way back down the staircase.
***
I'm more comfortable standing, she tried to equal his casual demeanor, I'm not much for pleasantries so what do you need?
She continued to meet his gaze waiting for the reply.
Don't be so crass, a note of irritation crept into his neighborly manner, You're correct we've come to ask a favor. I'm sure you know what it is, I'm just paying a friendly visit to affirm our understanding.
Sorry, but I must be slow, she spoke carefully, What understanding is that?
Now, now, Claire, he said like a parent coaxing a child, You know...
Dumont glanced toward the new men and without warning one of them stepped to a counter, swiping his arm across it and sending countless beakers and chemicals shattering to the ground. Half her floor lay in ruins.
***
Fawkes' pace quickened when he saw the Official standing in front of the metal door, behind him were two of the original suited men.
How'd you... but Darien never finished his sentence when a loud crash came from behind the door.
Hobbes pressed forward to reach the door, when the Official stuck his arm out, physically stopping him.
I told you, Keeper's business, he stated simply.
But Claire might be hurt in there, sir!
Her problem, not our's. They have clearance.
***
Dumont didn't flinch as the chemicals began to pool at his feet. Claire struggled for composure.
his voice congenial as ever in the silence after the crash.
Get out of my lab, The Keeper said, her tone flat.
My pleasure, Claire darling.
Dumont turned carelessly and walked along the edge of the counter toward the door. His feet crunched over the broken glass and he turned to flash another smile before stepping through the open door way.
***
Before Hobbes could continue his protest the door slid open.
A tall unfamiliar man pushed past The Official , practically shoving him out of his way. He didn't bother to glance at the shocked people populating the hall with him as he briskly walked down the hall. He was trailed by the two men who'd been standing guard and two others who'd been outside earlier.
Both Darien and Bobby watched them leave dumbfounded, then remembered the woman in The Keep and turned their eyes to the room behind the metal door.
Claire are you okay? Hobbes asked, jumping to The Keeper's side as she kneeled among an array of broken glass and mixing chemicals.
Claire looked up smiling slightly at Hobbes' concern, Yes, Bobby I'm fine, but thank you.
Uh Keepy, want me to grab a mop or something? Fawkes asked, shifting his weight so the glass crunched underfoot.
No I can clean up my self, she responded not looking up, and as if to excentuate her resolve she picked up a piece of glass.
Really? It's no problem, I could just get a broom, he persisted.
I'll clean up Darien, I can perform those tests later so you can go, an edge of irritation twinged her speech.
Still Darien insisted, I help pick up some glass at least, he crouched down already beginning his work.
Claire waved her hand at him and Hobbes, I can do this. I don't need your help. Just go away...please, her voice was steel.
Bobby backed away from Claire uncertainly, Um okay, but if you need anything just let us know, Hobbes looked at his partner and pointed at the door, Let's go Fawkes.
Reluctantly Darien went to his partner's side and again walking together the two left.
The door slid back into place.
Claire watched the reds swirling with orange, converging with green with fascination. Unconsciously her hand clenched around the glass in her palm, allowing it to tear into her flesh, adding a new kind of red to the mix. She didn't feel the pain as images mirroring this returned to her:
Oh god Frank! He clawed at his arm, desperately trying to get the substance out where it had entered him. But he could never reach it, all his nails found was bits of flesh and blood. The black spider web of veins spread across his face bulging till his skin cracked. Entire parts of his face seemed eaten away where the spider web wasn't. His eyes rolled back in pain and his legs convulsed perversely. He couldn't control his thrashing movements. But worst of all were his screams, the screams wouldn't stop. Even when she covered her ears they persisted into the brain. Until finally the chemical reached his brain and abruptly silence was found. He was dead.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and lone tear snaked down to pat the floor, but Claire couldn't tell the difference. As it'd joined the rest of the wet surronding her over the cold grey cement.