5~

The facilities Marcie visited while walking through the clean, hexagonal corridors, the different laboratories and their attendant departments, the electronics and machinery centers, bespoke of incredible wealth and innovation.

But by being in the belly of the beast, it forced her to grimly reevaluate her chances of surviving someone like Benton Quest, especially, if he could afford to build places like this, and still continue to be such a powerful, if rogue, scientist.

"I like the rec center you got, here," Marcie complimented. "The disco's a nice touch."

"Thanks," Tanya said, leading her through another turn in the corridor. "The disco opens around nine, I think. Nice atmosphere, there."

Although the place seemed like a dream to an intellectual, like Marcie, she knew she had to focus on the matter at hand. The deeper into the complex she was taken, the riskier things would get for her, so she needed to complete her mission, quickly.

"Do we have a Human Resources department?" she asked. "I mean, is there anyway of finding out who's working here? Like a duty roster, or employee schedule?"

"Looking for somebody?" Tanya asked. "Who is it? I might be able to help."

Marcie sighed. Now, she knew how secret agents felt. She didn't want to involve Tanya in her now dangerous affairs, but she needed the information. "Okay. Her name is An-"

"Hello, ladies," called out a masculine voice from the distance.

Marcie took a look at the voice's owner, a tall, burly man, crowned in snow-white hair, yet he wasn't elderly. His swagger of a smile proceeded him, as he walked down the hallway with equal swagger in his step.

Tanya brightened upon seeing him, and whispered to Marcie, "Oh! It's that big hunk of man! Dr. Quest's personal bodyguard and rugged test pilot, Race Bannon. I tell you, he makes all the girls walk on Cloud Nine, around here."

Whatever thoughts were brewing in Tanya's mind at the moment, they were quite different than the ones in Marcie's. The teen worried.

'Personal bodyguard,' she fretted in thought. 'Not good, from the look of him.'

Race wasn't young, but he was still in his physical prime, and loyal to Quest, or, at least to his money. She might be able to incapacitate him with her chemicals, in a fight, but even that didn't make her feel all that confident. She didn't think that even Red could take him on, and knew Daisy would never forgive her, if she somehow convinced him to try.

"Um, what brings you down here, Mr. Bannon?" Tanya asked, nervously, secretly hoping that she was the reason for the visit. "Does Dr. Quest need anything?"

"As a matter of fact, he does," Race told her, glancing over at Marcie and pointing casually at her. "The boss wants to talk to her." He gave Marcie a smile. It might have meant to look reassuring, but the girl couldn't help but notice a tint of menace in the corners.

Tanya turned to Marcie. "The newbie?" she asked, her disappointment slipping out enough to make her sound more incredulous, than neutral.

"Do you mind if I tear her away from you for a moment?" he pleasantly asked.

Marcie wasn't too keen on his choice of the word 'tear,' but she put on a brave face to the man, smiling to hide her discomfort. At least, he would bring her straight to his employer, so she didn't have to waste time looking for him.

"Oh, of course!" Tanya said, giggling away her chagrin, and stepping to the side to allow Race to escort Marcie away. She then regarded Marcie, as the girl began to depart, saying, "First day on the job, and the boss already wants to talk to you. Lucky, huh?"

Marcie turned her head to Tanya, feeling as though she were walking to her pending execution.

"Yeah, what an honor," she said with glum sarcasm.


Marcie thought that she, somehow, was transported into the opulent level of a international office building, when the elevator opened to reveal a floor of the complex that looked markedly different from the rest of the sterile-looking place.

She and Race stepped out into a hallway flanked with actual living plants in terra cotta pots, warm smooth jazz flowing from the speakers in the ceiling, tasteful portraits decorating the walls, and a ruddy carpet that stretched from the elevator, down the long hall, and ended inside the open, circular receptionist's area, which was where they walked, quietly.

Marcie was lost in her conflicted thoughts of what she would do when she saw the scientist, or what she would say, when Race picked that time to ask her a question.

"So, you're gonna join our little family, sunshine?"

Marcie was brought out of her funk by that. "Huh?"

"Our little family," he continued. "The boss wanted you for something. I figured that he wanted you to join us, or something."

Marcie's eyebrows lifted. That line of thinking was something she hadn't, before, considered. Maybe something could be brokered between the two them because of it.

Race, glancing down at Marcie, let out a authentic belly-laugh, and shook his head, sorrowfully. "You believe that, doncha? What did you think was gonna happen? He was gonna let you date his boy, Jonny? Ha! He goes through girls like old chewing gum."

"A real lady-killer, huh?"

"No," he said. "Just girls."

A confused chill passed through her, but she wouldn't let him know it. "It's a good thing that he's not my type," she sniffed.

"Most weren't, either. You'll probably just be his new plaything, er, I mean, playmate, for a while, until he gets tired of you. That happens a lot."

They entered the receptionist's area, where a woman sitting behind a desk, watched them approach the ornate double doors of the CEO and founder of Quest Industries.

Marcie took a curious glance at the woman, studying her smooth her nails while she watched them, in turn. She never blinked.

"She's a Questoid, isn't she?" Marcie asked, matter-of-factly.

Race glance Marcie. "Hey, not bad. How did you know? You're into robotics?"

Marcie shrugged, fighting the urge to geek out. "I dabble, but I've got a friend who would love to see what makes her tick."

"Oh, I know what makes her tick, around quitting time," Race said with a wolfish glance at the receptionist.

Marcie rolled her eyes heavenward. "Walked into that one."

The doors swung open with an imperial slowness and grace that made Marcie think that she was granted an audience with royalty, which, to the scientific community, disgraced or not, Quest was.

The interior was a sumptuous, low-lit, and atmospheric affair, tailored to Benton's wealth and intellectual sensibilities.

She stepped in, seeing Dr. Benton Quest seated behind his large desk, and not knowing what to expect. When she saw her fuming mother sitting on one of the plush chairs that faced that desk, Marcie didn't know quite what to say.

But her mother certainly did. "Marcia Anne Fleach! What are you doing here?" she asked, angrily. "Where's your father? Is he here, too?"

The chemical wunderkind, the scientist, the amateur detective that outwitted her foes, was transformed into a nine-year old girl in mere seconds under Anne's displeasure. All of this just made Quest smile all the brighter.

"Ah, Miss Fleach, how good of you to come. I see that you've finally gotten my invitation from that dolt Deeds. Now, we can have a proper family reunion, after which, you will help me with mine."

Marcie ignore his jibes and cryptic words, and just focused on seeing her mother, out of costume, at last.

With her conservative look of a lab coat, sweater, skirt, sensible shoes, and a bracelet, for style, Anne looked every bit the scientist that Marcie always imagined. The setting could have been better, but they could have met in the center of Hell, and to Marcie, it wouldn't have mattered.

"Mom," she began, then stopped, laughing in incredulity, and radiating to Anne, a happy and sincere smile.

"I thought I'd never hear myself say that again," she said, the emotion threatening to make her fail to speak words that she rehearsed in her heart for years, "Not to you. Not in the flesh. I know I'm in trouble fro being here, but I don't care. I had to come to and see you, again, Mom. I love you."

The maternal concern Anne had been simmering, went out in a flash. How long had she went to bed, and woke the next day thinking she would never hear her daughter say those words, in life, or hear herself say them, in honest response?

The words had difficulty coming from her. Her emotion was too strong, the situation, too long in coming. "I...I love you, too, dear." A hot tear escaped her composure, and rolled down from under her glasses.

Not waiting for permission from Quest, Anne stood from her chair and faced Marcie fully. It was all the impetus her daughter needed.

Marcie ran from the doorway and barreled into Anne with a hug from years of missed birthdays, and talks about who she liked in school, and scoldings for staying out late, and a hundred other things mothers and daughters did as a family.

Marcie looked at Anne with glasses wet with her own tears, wondering why her mother ever left, why she have to live without her for so long,…and why did something just fall into her lab coat pocket?

Whatever it was, she didn't want her host to get suspicious, so she released her mother, and turned to Quest to distract him from the smuggling.

"You know, it just dawned on me that you were the one who tried to kidnap that scientist's son during the Tri-State Olympiad of Science," she said, confidently. "You left me a riddle, now, just like you did, then."

"Very astute, Miss Fleach." Benton nodded. "I wanted Sundial's time technology secrets, since I couldn't find the T.H.R.O.B.A.C.'S stolen remains to study from, so I tried to get the next best thing, someone on the inside to get my information for me, as long as his son was fine, that is."

Marcie was confused. "But why the riddles, anyway? Weren't you worried that I might, you know, stop you?"

"My dear, I have contingency plans on top of contingency plans. I was confident that I would eventually thwart Sundial, no matter what you did, and I did," Quest pointed out with a self-satisfied smirk.

"In any event," he continued. "I knew of you and your friend, Velma Dinkley's, reputation on the science fair circuit, and your three-year winning streak in the Olympiads. So, I staged my little kidnapping to coincide with the event. Simply put, I wanted to see how smart and resourceful you were, while I implemented my plan.

"I hadn't known, at the time, that you bowed out of participating this year, but, with my riddles and traps, I think you were sufficiently challenged, regardless."

"You were testing me?" Marcie asked, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. "I was almost blown up, twice, and nearly drowned in a tank of water. I suppose you sending that robot on me the other day was, what, my mid-term?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he said without missing a beat. "Mr. Greenman asked me to kill you, and although I pretended that I didn't know you, I accepted. My Questoid broadcasted everything it saw to me, not just for its analysis, but for yours, as well."

'Ice-hearted bastard,' Anne thought, silently simmering in her hatred of this man, for whom she had worked under, whose money she had spent, and who risked the life of her daughter, time and again. For this, she returned to Marcie's life.

"If all of that is testing," Marcie said, flippantly. "You'd make a lousy teacher, Quest."

"On the contrary, Miss Fleach, I thought I was an excellent teacher, for the lessons I wanted you to learn," Quest said. "Ambition-going out of your way to stop me, meant you wanted to be better at being a mystery-solver. Intelligence and resourcefulness-only a sharp mind could find the riddles' answers, and think her way through my traps, and, of course, ruthlessness-having you face death, and forcing you to use your limited resources to save others from death, would make you hard, uncompromising. Perfect qualities for what I propose."

"Which is?"

"I want you to be my heir," he said, ignoring the shocked look on his guests' faces. "Although I researched the concept, I can't live forever. I need someone who has the potential of becoming a super-scientist, and continuing my legacy when I die."

That truth was more stunning than any lie he could have told her. "Seriously? Uh, I read your bio…when I was a fan of yours," she said, trying to recover. "Don't you already have an heir? Your son, Jonny. Ask him."

For the first time, Benton Quest looked unsure about his future. He stood from his desk and began to slowly pace. "I love Jonny dearly, but he doesn't have much of a head for business, and even less for super-science. I think he takes more after Race, than me. No offense, Race."

By the doorway, Race gave a mercenary shrug. "Hey, as long as the checks keep coming, Doc, you can offend me all you want."

"And as for his friend, Hadji," Quest continued. "His interests are in the mind, but only on the mystical side of things, so, no."

Marcie turned triumphantly towards Race, and pointed at him, mockingly. "Ha! I guess he did want me to join! Show what you know!"

"Marcie!" Anne scolded.

She regained her composure and returned her attention to Quest. "A tempting offer, Dr. Quest," she said, pretending to ponder upon it. "But what if I refuse?"

"Then," Quest said, emotionlessly. "I'll have to come up with a counter-proposal. Join me, or watch, as I test the machine on your mother."

"That's what this tête-à-tête was leading to?" Marcie asked, her righteous indignation rising, just as her heart was sickening with worry for her mother. "Great! I'm forced to follow someone else's destiny, again! It's bad enough that my own dad's doing it, but now, some mad scientist on the run, is, too?"

She didn't see Quest move until it was too late. A strong, thin hand whipped out and clutched Marcie from under her chin, just hard enough to get her undivided attention.

"I'm not mad, Miss Fleach," Benton insisted, coldly. "Just determined." He then released his grip, and regained his composure.

The already tense moment was then broken by the intrusion of Race yanking her mother back towards the doors' threshold.

"Leave my mother alone!" Marcie yelled at him. "Don't touch her!"

"Let go off me, you ape!" Anne yelled, as she tried to shake herself out of Race's iron grasp, all in vain.

Quest gave a casual stretch to the drama being played out before him.

"Race is right, my dears," he said, smoothly. "We must cut this touching moment short. Time is, quite literally, of the essence." He gave his watch a friendly tap to illustrate the point.

He walked around to meet Anne, and gestured gentlemanly past the doorway. "Ladies first. Next stop, the future!"