Heart of Darkness
Chapter 1
"Welcome to Rowen Eugenics, Dr. McGivers. Allow me to show you to your temporary lodgings. Director Pierce is sure you will find them satisfactory."
Mara peered around the vast, six-story atrium of chrome and glass, her eyes awed by the grandiose nature of the facility. The north and south walls were lined with solid metal railings, with numerous rooms and hallways branching off beyond. The west wall was almost entirely plate glass, with the rounded ceiling, which was also plate glass, giving the opposite end of the building a garden-archway look. The floors were polished white tile of some kind, and everything sparkled. Mara could almost smell the lemon-lilac floor polish.
"Yes," she replied distractedly, slightly overwhelmed by the facility. "I'm sure I will."
The receptionist continued walking, her blue velvet Bata heels ringing throughout the compound. Mara smiled to herself at the revolution that only a receptionist would wear heels to a 9-5.
"It's just through here, Doctor," the receptionist said, waving Mara into an open elevator. Mara chastised herself for letting the woman's name slip her mind.
The elevator ride was uncomfortable and quiet. Mara felt out of her element—out of her league. She had never been summoned to examine augmented human beings before. She had no idea what to expect. But apparently this Director… this Pierce… believed she was one of the best in her field and thus the most highly qualified. She felt proud of her achievements at Princeton General, but hardly found them worthy of such a task. She felt that the outsourcing of third-party diagnosticians and surgeons was an odd undertaking for Rowen Eugenics. She felt that surely they should have had medical staff of their own…
"Here we are. The staterooms," the receptionist said with a smile that looked entirely fake. "Yours is number…" she paused looking down a clipboard that she clung to like a newborn. "517. Just down the hall to the left."
Mara stepped slowly out of the elevator, feeling as if, somehow, the floor would collapse from under her.
"Will you be needing anything else?" the receptionist said in the same fake tone.
Mara finally snapped from her awestruck reverie, spinning to face the receptionist. "Yes. I would like to see the specimens."
The receptionist looked a bit shocked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Yes, of course. But, don't you think you should settle in fir…"
"I'll just drop my bags inside. There is time for that later," she sai,d turning to walk down the aisle, a bit more confidence returning to her step. She could tell by the absence of heel-clicking that the receptionist had not followed.
Mara turned, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to drop my bags in my room. If you don't wish to accompany me, I'll simply find my way to the labs by myself."
The receptionist practically leapt from the elevator, clearing her throat and smoothing her pencil skirt. "No, ma'am, I'll show you there right away."
Mara smiled as she registered two things—one, that the receptionist had clearly been told not to let any visitors wander the facility unaccompanied by a Rowen employee. It made her wonder what they were hiding. And two—the title had gone from "Dr." to "ma'am." A clear sign of lessening respect. It only made her smile. She didn't exactly want respect from this brand of person.
Mara slid the key card the receptionist had given her upon arrival through the door lock of room 517. It hissed and whirred for an extended moment, before popping ajar and allowing her inside. Mara couldn't help but whistle. She was sure the receptionist was rolling her eyes behind her, but couldn't summon the energy to care.
The room was the size of a normal living room, with soft, plush carpeting and an ornate bedspread embroidered in gold thread. The drapes were a heavy maroon material, which was beyond capable of blocking out all sunlight. Beyond the open wall-sized window was a breathtaking view of the London skyline, Big Ben in the very middle.
Mara snapped out of it, hauling her carry-on into the entryway, and turning back to the receptionist.
"Shall we?"
The receptionist gave her another fake smile and led the way back to the elevator.
"The labs are below ground for safety reasons," the receptionist said quietly as the elevator doors closed behind them. "All levels below ground are marked with alphabetical designations, all levels above are marked in roman numerals. We will be going to F-level. Your key-card is authorized to access all levels except A. And before you ask, A-level is just offices—the Director, the lab technicians, those sorts. They didn't find it prudent to allow the key cards access to a level that you won't ever need to visit."
Mara nodded as the red light at the crown of the elevator followed their progression—2, 1, A, B, C, D…
Mara could feel the air getting cooler as the elevator sunk farther underground.
"F-Level. Please exit," an electronic voice projected through the elevator as the chrome doors slid open smoothly.
The underground level was extremely different from the above-ground. Where there had been ornate decoration and glass, the lower level was made entirely of clean, hard white linoleum. All of the walls and floors were of the same make—as if their installation was dependent on the fact that linoleum could be hosed down. With a shiver, Mara realized that it could have been the sole reason.
The wall to the right was solid, but to the left were "pods" of laboratories, their walls made of plexiglass so that the technicians could be viewed at all times.
It was exactly as Mara pictured it—men in sweater-vests and khakis with long white lab coats on top, a name tag pinned haphazardly to the lapel. They milled about their labs with syringes and plungers and test tubes filled with all manner of materials. Mara took a deep breath, trying not to let the New Jersey native in her become anxious at the sight.
This is what I've worked for all my life, she thought to herself in an effort to steel her nerves.
"Just through that gray door at the end, there," the receptionist said, motioning to the door.
"You're not coming?" Mara asked, feeling dumb immediately after having asked.
"I'm not permitted, ma'am. Good afternoon," she said with an incline of her head, spinning on her heels to return to the elevator.
"It's been a real joy," Mara said under her breath, sliding her key card to the right of the gray door, and entering.
A few author's notes-I made the decision to change her name from Marla to Mara, simply because the name 'Marla' is somewhat dated. I figured it was acceptable, since it's an alternate continuity anyway.
Second note, I am (obviously) utilizing the new, J.J. Abrams formation of Stardates. For example, January 1, 1994 would be 1994.1, and December 31st of the same year would be 1994.365. Savvy?
Enjoy. And live long and prosper.