Tensions were high in the office of the head of the Agency. Hobbes paced restlessly, anxious for some way to help his partner. Darien sat quietly, fingers gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
"Can't we just track down someone else who has this stuff?" Hobbes asked. "I mean, follow the supply chain down some other branches?"
"I should be able to obtain access to their computers," Eberts asserted. "Tracking it down shouldn't be a problem."
"Great! That's great! Then we can go and, and get it from whoever does have it," Hobbes said enthusiastically
"It won't do any good," Claire replied, hating the fact that she had to be the voice of doom again. "The last batch they produced will only be good for another day, at best. Most of it's probably expired already."
"It is doubtful," Eberts admitted, "that we would be able to track it down and acquire it in so short a time."
"Can you synthsize it yourself, given the raw materials?" the Official asked her.
"Probably, but it will take time to gather the necessary equipment and supplies. It isn't something I've ever needed to prepare myself before."
Darien showed the first sign of life. "But you *can* make it yourself?"
She hesitated. "Eventually," she hedged.
"So what are you doing up here?" Hobbes demanded. "Go, go, order your eye of newt and your cauldron and let's start cooking!"
"It's all ordered already. Most of it will be here within 24 hours. I should be able to get started some time tomorrow."
She could see the hope dying in Darien's eyes. "And how long will it take, from there, to counteragent?"
Every eye in the room was on Claire. She looked back at them helplessly, knowing the answer and wishing she could give a different one. Darien, at least, had guessed already, judging from his expression.
"At least ten days...."
Silence filled the room. He held up his monitor tattoo, which now showed eight segments red. She realized that some of his distraction, some of the guarded look in his eyes, was due to the growing headache at the base of his skull.
"I think you'd better make sure that padded room is available," he told her resignedly.
"Can't we just track down someone else who has this stuff?" Hobbes asked. "I mean, follow the supply chain down some other branches?"
"I should be able to obtain access to their computers," Eberts asserted. "Tracking it down shouldn't be a problem."
"Great! That's great! Then we can go and, and get it from whoever does have it," Hobbes said enthusiastically
"It won't do any good," Claire replied, hating the fact that she had to be the voice of doom again. "The last batch they produced will only be good for another day, at best. Most of it's probably expired already."
"It is doubtful," Eberts admitted, "that we would be able to track it down and acquire it in so short a time."
"Can you synthsize it yourself, given the raw materials?" the Official asked her.
"Probably, but it will take time to gather the necessary equipment and supplies. It isn't something I've ever needed to prepare myself before."
Darien showed the first sign of life. "But you *can* make it yourself?"
She hesitated. "Eventually," she hedged.
"So what are you doing up here?" Hobbes demanded. "Go, go, order your eye of newt and your cauldron and let's start cooking!"
"It's all ordered already. Most of it will be here within 24 hours. I should be able to get started some time tomorrow."
She could see the hope dying in Darien's eyes. "And how long will it take, from there, to counteragent?"
Every eye in the room was on Claire. She looked back at them helplessly, knowing the answer and wishing she could give a different one. Darien, at least, had guessed already, judging from his expression.
"At least ten days...."
Silence filled the room. He held up his monitor tattoo, which now showed eight segments red. She realized that some of his distraction, some of the guarded look in his eyes, was due to the growing headache at the base of his skull.
"I think you'd better make sure that padded room is available," he told her resignedly.