Log One: N. Terview

Nathan checked his watch, tapped his foot for a few seconds, and checked the time again, this time on his phone.

*2:14 and 30 seconds*

*2:14 and 32 seconds*

He swallowed, a bead of sweat tracing its way down the back of his neck, getting caught in the folds of his turtleneck sweater. 2:15 was mere seconds away, and with it, the interview. One that could very well change his life forever.

Not that he necessarily needed it to survive. He had plenty of options for work, they just weren't quite how he wanted to make his living. Plus, it hadn't been easy driving up the goddamn mountain to get to the site, and it would feel like a waste if he bombed this.

Besides, he could only imagine the view from a lab with a window, from that high up, in a castle, even…even the thought of it made him breathless.

On the one hand, he had gone through every formality, scenario, or question they might ask him. He had Googled potential interview questions, taking thorough notes from every LinkedIn article, university career advice column, and even small scale blogs from 2007.

On the other hand, this wasn't exactly a… typical job. In many ways, this interview was an audition, in addition to answering any and all questions his potential new boss would have.

*2:15*

His eyes darted to the heavy looking wooden door. Still closed. And no noise that he could detect.

Maybe this was an elaborate prank. A ruse. Maybe they thought he was some sort of spy. A mole. A nuisance, a pest, a-

He shook himself out of his panic, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tweed blazer sleeves. Not everyone was as prompt or on time as he liked to be. He was a stickler for that sort of thing.

He checked his pockets and bag for the fifth time since he arrived, making sure he had brought everything he needed. Wallet, keys, phone, tablet, Tic Tacs. Extra copies of his resume in case it they lost it, somehow. Pen, in case they decided to hire him and needed him to sign something now. Water, Cheez Itz, stress ball, chem-

*creeeeeeeeeeak*

Nathan swallowed hard as a small man with the letter N tattooed on his forehead walked out, grinning at him.

"Nathan, is it? Come on in. We have much to discuss, don't we?"

Nathan took a quiet, slow breath, and smiled, weakly but warmly. He rose to his feet, briefly patting his hair. He prayed that it was still smooth. It had a tendency to go a bit wild and out of place, yet in his nerves, he had forgotten to put pomade into it this morning.

"Of course. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Cortex."

Cortex beckoned to Nathan, and he obliged, following Cortex into the office, brown leather messenger bag firmly in hand.

Nathan's hazel eyes darted around the room as he entered, unsure of where to look first. While small, the office had some decorations. A cute little statue of a tiger, one of a kangaroo, one of a koala, and some more animals he couldn't quite place were on the bookshelf. However, the books that were also neatly arranged had gathered a substantial layer of dust. He half-wondered if the books had ever actually been read.

There was a filing cabinet in the corner, a bright but not overwhelming green color that contrasted with the darker wood-paneled walls. The desk chair behind the desk was the same color as the cabinets, had a high back, and while Nathan couldn't tell what material the chair was made of, it looked comfy. He supposed that the large portrait of Cortex was a bit… much… but you had to admire a man with that kind of confidence.

Cortex gestured to the smaller, but still comfy looking chair on the other side of the desk. As Nathan sat down, sinking into the plush seat, Cortex went over to the filing cabinet, shuffling through some folders, almost absentmindedly.

"So, Nathan Dustrielle, I've gotten a chance to look at your resume, and I'm trying to find it now. Though I must say, with a resume like yours, especially with a name like that, you're off to an excellent start."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, wondering what Cortex meant when referring to his name, but nodded. "Um, thanks."

Cortex pulled out a folder with some papers and grinned as he sat down in his own chair.

"So, Dr. Dustrielle, tell me more about yourself. Tell me your story. As much as you'd like, though, I don't mind gritty details. You'll find many of us have… quite a backstory ourselves."

Nathan inhaled sharply, and consciously set his face in a pleasant but determined expression. At least he thought so. He had practiced for days.

"Well, not quite sure where or really how to start, but chemistry has always excited and fascinated me. Clearly. I didn't exactly poof myself a doctorate."

He chuckled softly, hoping that Cortex didn't notice the shakiness in it.

"But ever since I was a kid, I wanted to learn more about how the world worked. And how its component parts interacted with each other. Like, for example, when you blow something up with some sort of bomb or grenade, the reason why is usually because there's a reaction going on inside the bomb that's forcing gas to expand, and with enough pressure, eventually bursting the outer wall. The explosive energy packs the punch, but then there's shrapnel. If it's some nuclear energy, then there's how the particles interact with the body's cells… sorry, didn't mean to go off on that tangent."

Cortex shook his head. "Don't be, keep going. I value learning. Usually. Sometimes. Well, I want to know more now, that's what matters."

Nathan nodded, exhaling slightly, hoping Cortex was telling the truth. He knew Cortex had the capacity to lie. And to lie well, undetected. But he reassured himself and kept going.

"Right then, degree in chemistry, did the doctorate at Trinity-"

"Trinity? Out of curiosity, do you know Doctor Roo?"

Nathan racked his brains, but the name didn't sound familiar.

"I, sorry, unfortunately no."

"He teaches psychology. I'm familiar with him. I didn't expect you to be. Keep going."

Nathan cleared his throat. "Right, then. Got the doctorate. Specialized in exothermic experimentation. I know how to do one hell of a bang."

He mentally kicked himself, realizing how awkward that sounded. He cleared his throat, hoping Cortex didn't see the slight wobble of the corner of his lip, threatening to form a visible grimace, as he tried to get back on track.

"But…but I'm well versed in many highly reactive forms of decomposition, both organic and inorganic. I have some research experience, but looking to get my hands a bit more dirty here."

Cortex raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"I would've thought with a skill-set like that, the defense industry would be champing at the bit to recruit you."

Nathan winced. "You're not wrong. A few agencies, both government and private, approached me with some opportunities."

"You didn't accept any of those offers? Why? I always thought they paid very well."

Nathan shrugged. "Most do. Some don't. But it wasn't quite what I was looking for."

Cortex furrowed his brow, mouth set solidly. "And what are you looking for, exactly?"

"Well…" Nathan paused, not sure if he should completely tell the truth. But he figured he'd go for gusto. He had a gut feeling about it…though it could have been from the burrito he had earlier, mixed with nerves and… pure unbridled excitement.

"The thing is, most agencies in the defense industry absolutely would value my skills. For fuel, drugs, propellants, bombs, chemical weapons, maybe even nuclear. And I love all that kind of stuff, don't get me wrong."

He took a breath and, without being aware of it, leaned in slightly, feeling less nervous and more sure of himself as he kept talking.

"You know how little boys sometimes love watching things blow up? I guess I never quite grew out of that phase. But the kicker of the defense industry is that, ideally, at least in theory, they don't want to use what you build. Now, of course, sometimes they will, and find some way to justify it. But unless there's a war, nothing substantial or large-scale is going to get used… and I want my work to make a difference in some sort of effort. I want to see the weapons go off. I want to watch every reaction. And I want to study the aftermath, after I get a good long look at the view."

He realized at that moment that he was grinning widely and stopped, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, his face flushed.

"Uh, yeah, that about covers the defense industry… part…"

Cortex's mouth shifted, almost as though he was concealing something. He pivoted his body slightly, picking up a pen, fidgeting slightly with it, scribbling small lines on random parts of Nathan's resume.

It looked like doodles… that meant nothing, right?

Right?

Cortex exhaled in a sigh.

"Well…one of my colleagues is well aware of the ins and outs of the defense industry. Used to be involved. Brilliant, whiz kid, industry darling, well respected even early on in his career. Blew up in his face, quite literally, and then he came to work with me. I'm sure you and him could have a lot to talk about."

He clicked his tongue, spun around in his chair once and looked back at Nathan, right into his eyes.

"It's an interesting workplace we've got here…and I hope we're everything you've hoped for. And that you are as good a fit as I think you are."

Nathan nodded, then gasped.

"Oh… oh wait… like, I've got the job?"

Cortex's face broke into a thin, almost twisted, smile.

"Well, how about just one final question?"

Nathan felt his feet twitching, shaking, close to dancing. He could almost taste this job, but he needed to get this question answered just right. He shook every neuron in his brain awake, firing the furnaces, to be ready for every calculation, probability, analysis or speech he might need to do.

"How tall are you?"

Nathan flushed deeper. He could practically feel his blood, hot and concentrated, in his face.

"I feel like that's a bit personal. Would HR like that you asked that question?"

"We don't have HR. What do we look like, a legitimate operation?"

"Fair. Uh, I'm 5'4."

Cortex clapped his hands together and giggled. "Oh, this couldn't be any better. We've got one colleague who's tall and thinks he's so classy and high and mighty and above us for it."

He scowled slightly, seemingly at the thought, but shrugged, reaching his hand out.

"Looking forward to working with you… Dr. N. Dustrielle."

Nathan glanced at the hand, and smiled, and something occurred to him. Whether it was because of his nerves, determination, fear, or simply not noticing it, he had not let go of his messenger bag for the entirety of the interview.

He dropped it, laughing wildly, with unabashed glee, and reached out to shake Cortex's hand firmly.

"Likewise, Dr. Cortex…"