CHAPTER 2 – COLD REALISATION
Manfred woke Brandon at 8am Saturday morning to a breakfast in bed of grapefruit, apricot yoghurt, Kenyan coffee and sourdough toast spread with Ackerberry jam (a hard to get berry from Chora i.e. LV 127). Veronica stirred next to him, her ample caramel breasts sliding out from under the silk sheets as Brandon gingerly ate his breakfast while he watched the morning finance report.
The news at the moment was buzzing at the prospect of Lingerman Mining and Phorak Minet Conglomerate merging in a deal ready to set the record books for the largest deal in history. $5.7 trillion and Brandon friends Chris and Leroy were working on the merger as the investment brokers. Jenkins was the CEO of Lingerman Exploration, the main mining subsidiary of Lingerman Mining and Brandon guessed they were all extremely busy at the moment and unlikely to make this month's Manday.
"Much the pity." Brandon mused. "Oh well, less competitors means less competition."
After finishing off the rest of his coffee and having a nice long shower, Brandon dressed himself in a pin striped Sachs Anhcorman suit, dark blue, with cream trousers and a power red tie. His hair (implanted after he started balding at 38 years old) slicked back and his vintage 2008 Brietling Steamliner watch securely fastened around his wrist.
Feeling excited at the prospect of the much hyped Manday game, he bade Veronica farewell as she tried to tempt him back to bed using all sorts of alluring poses and promises to get him to stay. She was placated after Brandon assured her that after having left her for a few days, he would be very 'hungry' when he got back. Further, she had the opportunity to go shopping in his absence.
The drive to Acura spaceport was uneventful as Manfred parked the car and escorted Brandon inside the spaceport diamond class lounge where a man in a dark suit and dark sunglasses waved and escorted him aboard a private jet.
As was expected, the jet was very plush and he was the only passenger. The anti-gravity systems did an excellent job of negating the G-forces of take off. He busied himself reading a book about the life of a recently deceased and prominent politician and sipping Semillon Blanc until the jet touched down 2 hours later. However, he was perturbed during the entire flight and still was since no one had told him where they were taking him. He surmised he must be on Mars given the 2 hour flight time, but had no idea where exactly on Mars.
The jet's main door opened and Brandon was relieved to see Barry waiting to greet him as he descended the stairs down to the hangar floor.
"Brandy!"
"Barry you great fuck! Where am I?!"
Barry stepped forward and shoved his hand out towards Brandon as he reached the last step, "Calm down Brandy, it's all part of the fun. You'll see."
Brandon grabbed Barry's hand and gave it a firm shake, "Barry there's surprises and surprises. You now I don't like the latter."
Barry let go and walked off motioning Brandon to follow to a black limousine, "What's wrong old man. You're not a pussy are you?"
Brandon pointed at him, his finger dead straight and aimed right at his eyes, "Pussy is gonna beat you at whatever game this is. Remember, pussy tastes better than chicken."
Barry laughed heartily as he approached the open door of the limo, "Touche, come on then. I spent too much money on this one for you to be late. You got here last, you know."
"Fashionably late, I make no excuses. Why? How much did this one cost you?"
Barry's smile disappeared and he looked Brandon right in the eyes, locking his gaze as they sat down in the plush limo's seats. "$10 million."
"Shit! That's enough, you didn't ha-"
"Each."
Brandon was stunned. "Wh-what?" Brandon adjusted in his seat at the limo pulled out and began driving. "$10 million each? $90 million altogether?"
Barry rested his hand on the arm rest and he put his feet up on the leather footwell. "That's right." Barry's net worth was in the billions after having inherited a large share of the family business, but nevertheless, a $90 million purchase was not to be sneezed at for a game of fun.
Brandon and Barry didn't talk much more as the limo drove on smoothly, guided by the sure hands of the dark and unseen chauffeur.
After another 20 minutes, the limo pulled to a stop at a mysterious looking building, an elevator prominent at the front. Barry and Brandon were greeted cheerfully by a particularly attractive blonde woman who led them into the elevator and pressed a red button located several inches below the other buttons after the turn of a key.
Again Barry and Brandon barely spoke as the elevator pod descended and finally opened after what seemed like 40 or 50 seconds. The doors opened to a dimly lit corridor and the blonde escort gestured for them to follow her down it.
At the end, a very solid door gave the impression that something very dangerous and/or important was inside. The blonde girl looked up to a camera in the ceiling and the doors opened smoothly, without a sound.
Inside, Brandon and Barry could see a man in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back, a scar running down the side of his face, extending from above his eye down to his chin. Brandon was starting to feel nervous as the man stepped towards them, cracking a smile as he approached.
"Sir Brandon." The man simply stated as though it was the answer to a question. "My name is Michael Danner. I run this facility. I take it that Barry has not told you what this facility is for?"
"That's right." Barry chimed in with a curt smile.
Michael gestured to the left towards a doorway, "This way please, sir. Your friends are waiting. I will explain then."
They all walked silently through another set of doors, through what appeared to be empty office space and then into a board room with a shiny pine table and comfortable looking leather seats. Michael gestured to his left and Brandon was greeted with a familiar sight. The rest of the gang, minus the few who were working on the Lingerman/Phorak deal. Including Brandon and Barry, there were six of them in all.
Each of them cheered enthusiastically upon seeing Brandon. Old jokes and banter followed as the blonde girl served drinks. The conversation lasted a few moments before Michael Danner stood before them and asked them to sit to view a presentation.
Each of them sat, leaning back casually in their chairs, drinks of whisky, gin and tonic, or vodka in hand as the projector lit up against a screen. Michael stood proudly at the front as the blonde girl manned the projector.
Michael inhaled and clasped his hands as he began to speak. "Gentlemen. Welcome to this facility. No doubt you are all wondering why you are here and what this place is. It is called Xenorena. This is a highly exclusive entertainment arena open only to a select few by invitation only. As Barry may have informed you previously, your places here are at the cost of an even $10 million each, to emphasize how exclusive this place is."
The screen glowed as it transitioned from the Xenorena logo to a schematic diagram.
Michael continued, "This is a schematic diagram of this facility. It is a left over base from when the US government performed various scientific experiments and weapons research as part of the White Beetle scandal 15 years ago. For those of you who are not familiar with the failed project, it's objective was to tap into the fabric of space/time to tap into other dimensions. As you may know, the project was spectacularly unsuccessful and achieved nothing at the monumental waste of taxpayer dollars. However, we purchased this facility off the US government at a bargain price and have developed it into an exclusive arena."
"The basic premise is that we keep a zoo of vicious monsters in a separate wing of this facility. We put you in another wing, armed to the teeth. We set the monsters free. Your objective is to kill the monsters before they "kill" you. I say kill in inverted commas because we equip you with blue shields so they cannot come into physical contact with you. You are completely protected. For those of you who don't know, blue shields are essentially fields of energy that surround you and, when activated, act like a force field and protect you. But if the monsters touch your blue shield, you are taken as dead for the purposes of the game and you are removed and it is up to the remaining players to achieve the goal of survival."
Brandon shifted in his chair as Michael stepped forward.
"The monsters you will be facing…." The blonde woman swapped to the next slide. "are xenomorphs!"
Everyone gasped as a life size image of a xenomorph alien glowed menacingly at them from the screen, A video of the alien running down a series of corridors started, and everyone in the room (except Danner and the blonde girl) gasped as the footage continued and showed the alien successfully chase down and tear apart a person.
Michael continued, "This, gentlemen is why this program costs so much. They are the fiercest and rarest of monsters. They are very difficult to capture and harvest, but we have taken care of that for you for your killing pleasure. You will be armed with M41A pulse rifles, just like back in the day before the marine corps developed electro cannons and plasma rifles. The degree of difficulty will be high and your mettle will surely be tested like never before. Only the bravest will survive!" Michael threw his hands in the air, pacing around the room for dramatic effect.
Brandon raised his hand and Michael gestured for him to speak. "How many of these things are we going to be up against?"
Michael answered, pausing at first. "You fill face them in stages. First you will clear out an area with only one, then a separate area with only two, then 5 and then finally 10. 18 xenos in all."
Michael gestured towards the blonde woman who clicked the button for the next slide, which showed a model of a man wearing various items of equipment and a pulse rifle. 'You will be equipped, as I said alluded to before, with vintage marine equipment from over 30 years ago. You main weapon will be M41A pulse rifles. These ones have been modified so that they are much lighter, made out of poly-carbon resin. They weigh a quarter of the weight of a normal steel rifle. They hold 99 rounds in a clip and fire at the rate of 10 rounds a second.
You will also be fitted with a head set radio like in the old days, which we will use to keep in touch with you and tell you where to go. You can also use it to speak to each other. You will also be provided with an strapped helmet with a fold down heads-up-display with a map of this facility and an infra-red visor to see in the dark. No dark illumination lenses here. Wasn't around back then. Lastly, one man in your group will be equipped with an old style motion detection radar. Brandon, the group has nominated you to hold this responsibility."
Brandon simply nodded back at Michael and the group.
"Gentlemen. That is the conclusion of your briefing. No more questions are permitted. Please proceed out down the hall to the barracks where you will be suited up. Clarisse will show you."
The men stood and shuffled slowly towards the door. Brandon managed to walk beside Barry, where he whispered to him, "What the fuck have you got us into?"
Barry turned to him and replied. "Fuck me, mate. I dunno!"
His hands shaking in a mix of cold fear and excitement, Brandon followed the group out of the board room and into the hallway.
Michael smiled, chuckling softly as the doors closed behind them and they disappeared from view.
