2. Chapter 1
"Dr. Jacque Rausenbleum. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." The elderly reporter smiled before reaching across her desk to shake hands with Dr. Rausenbluem who was accompanied by a tall young woman. "And this must be your fiancée, Ms. Summers. Welcome Dr. Rausenbluem, Ms. Summers."
Hardly old enough to be considered a man, Jacques Rausenbluem took the reporter's hand in his and very lightly brushed his lips over the top of her palm. The reporter blushed madly. Composing herself, she smoothed her skirt out then took a seat. Jacque did the same. He was dressed in a finely tailored black and gray tweed jacket, his chin squared; brown eyes warm beneath thin black eyebrows. His lips curled into an amiable smile.
"Thank you for having us Jeanne." Dr. Rausenbluem spoke with a light French accent. He placed his hand over his fiancée's.
Ms. Summers' ruby lips moved into a smile, emerald-green eyes glittering. The reporter was stunned into silence by the woman's entrancing eyes then as she caught herself staring, she began shuffling the papers on her desk as she sought to find the right one.
"Now, tell me Dr. Rausenbluem," She found the paper she had been looking for and at once her old, weathered eyes began to scan it. "I'm sure you're aware of the numerous rumors that have been crossing the globe. You've created a, correct me if I'm wrong," She paused, searching for the phrase within the paper. "A phylogenetic distribution of regenerative abilities…?" The elderly reporter's eyes crossed in a display of apparent confusion. She continued staring at the paper, not sure if she had said it right or not.
Dr. Rausenbluem chuckled, running his fingers through his thick head of raven-black hair, "Yes, that's what the scientific community likes to call it. To put it into laymen's terms, it's quite simply the ability to remake a limb. My team of scientists have spent decades analyzing and dissecting the part of amphibian DNA that contains the recipe for recreating lost limbs. Finally, we have found the exact strand that controls regeneration and we've begun experimenting with DNA syndicates."
Ms. Summers clasped her hands together then placed them in her lap. She wanted to spout off the truth of her fiancee's work to the reporter but, as much as she hated to admit it, Jacque had brought her here to the Daily Bugle to parade her around as a trophy and nothing more. If she opened her mouth at all, it would have to be to say something coy and completely lacking of intelligence.
Typical Jacque. Always wanting to show the others what he has and what they don't. She thought to herself. All she had to do was sit, metal rod through her spine, smile painted onto her cherry lips, and wait for the reporter to write down all of the information she required.
So much waiting and smiling was nothing new for her. As a child she had been very shy but even more so beautiful. Her parents, who were the crème-de-la-crème of socialites throughout Europe, detested such shy behavior and threw her into the world of modeling to try and strip off her shy exterior. To her mother's great pleasure, the popping white lights of the world of modeling had stripped her of her shy tendencies and molded her into a young woman "worthy of the Summer's name". But what it had really done was teach her how to be what others wanted her to be in order to preserve her true self. She was still the same Ada but on the outside she was someone completely different. A mask of her real self.
Her thoughts were her sanctuary but this was not the time or place for them. A sudden tension in the room jarred her back into Ms. Janson's office at the Daily Bugle.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Janson," Jacque stood, his polite façade obviously ruffled. "But I do believe that our interview is done."
Ada Summers watched, knowing all too well that Jacques had reached the end of his rope. A very short rope indeed. She did not know how it would end, but she did know that it would not end well. When Jacque lost his patience things never ended well. She knew this was going to happen. His research always seemed to put him on the edge. Talking about it would have the same effect.
"But Dr. Rausenbluem, you agreed to twenty minutes." The reporter stood, her face panicked. "We still have ten more minutes left. You can't just leave. Please, sir. I have a deadline to make and lest you forget that we had a verbal agreement!"
Jacque's face flushed a deep burgundy. "Jacque," Ada put her hand on his arm, lightly. "Please, sit down."
"I suppose you didn't hear me correctly." Jacque jerked his arm away then slammed his fist down onto the reporter's desk. Her thin, beanstalk-like body jumped into the air. "Our interview has been terminated. As a good rule of thumb, Ms. Janson, get everything down in writing. Now, good day!" He stalked to the door, opened it and was about to step out when he paused and turned his head back. "Ada, we're leaving."
He rushed through the typing room quickly enough to send the papers on the close-set desks fluttering like uncaged birds. The reporters who had been typing on their laptops had to make a mad dash to hold them down.
As Ada stood she noticed a small crowd of reporters at Ms. Janson's office door. Their curiosity had obviously been peaked when they heard Jacques' angry voice from inside the office.
"Ms. Janson." Ada stood across from the shivering woman, her desk the only thing separating the two. "I'm sorry about Dr. Rausenbluem. Please forgive him. It was a great pleasure to meet you." She reached across the desk to clasp the reporter's trembling hand in hers.
No sooner had the young woman left the room, the crowd of reporters bustled in.
Above the buzzing ruckus one man's voice rose above the din, "Want me to go drag him back in here, Jeannie?"
The reporter plopped down into her chair, a sigh escaping her pursed lips. "No, that's all right Peter. Not a lot of good that'll do. If he doesn't want to talk…" She paused. Slowly, she opened her palm. A folded piece of white paper had been slipped into her hand. Steadying her hands, she unfolded the piece of paper and read it. "If he doesn't want to talk, he doesn't have to."