Well, here's the latest and greatest. Hmm, maybe not greatest, but still…..

It's actually one of the shortest chapters I have written. And that's sad, considering it's still almost 3.5 thousand words.

Next chapter gets awesome. Sit tight.

Falling asleep,
Kelsey

CHAPTER 38: PIN THE TAIL

The Laytonmobile roared through back streets, riskily hustled through city thoroughfares, and rode the bumper of any car that dared to coast in front of it.

Laura covered her mouth. "Don't you think you could...mmph...drive a bit smoother than this?"

"Not if you don't want to miss that conference. Speech. Whatever it is," he growled, muttering voodoo-like chants under his breath. "Does this woman even know how to accelerate?!"

Flora giggled despite the situation, and Luke dared to do the same. Their Professor never got angry. Never. And he'd already cussed once today. They were waiting for another slip, albeit with a tinge of worry.

'I don't like the Professor pushed like that,' Luke thought to himself. 'I suppose he's human, but...I don't always consider him to be...'

"Well, it's all still fuzzy, but we know something's amiss," Layton said above the traffic din. "How Leopold still managed to get away with it, I don't know."

"Neither do I," Laura said while shaking her head. She rolled down her window to let the fresh air hit her face, which she welcomed enthusiastically. "All advice was buffeted, tossed aside. All of it. I don't even know how he got government clearance for such projects! I don't even have anyone around anymore to question. All of my fellow engineers...they aren't working at Petrolite anymore."

"They were all fired or killed," the Professor said matter of factly. He merely continued driving while Laura gawked at his audacity.

"What? How do you—"

"If they were mindless underlings, they were fired. Knowledgeable, and they were murdered. Now we're approaching our destination, so let's get a plan in mind..."

Her screwed up expression was mutely ignored, and she flailed her hands around as if swatting gnats. What on earth was he going on about so smugly? He wouldn't be apathetic with a subject as prickly as death, but it seemed that way.

'Then again…'

Had all her comrades—her fellow coworkers, engineers, and scientists—really died mysteriously, just as those archaeologists in the newspaper? It only now occurred to her, the coincidental timing.

"But…!" she tried, before being interrupted once more.

"Hey. Laura," the Professor hurried, "depending on what we find out today—if this is all cleared up, what then?"

The question was frank, and it caught her off guard. "W-What?"

"Will our line of communication end? Do you mean to go back to how things were?" He glanced at her, giving her a sidelong look that indicated seriousness of another nature, reflecting a gravity that was very different than that of the current situation.

"I…I never thought that far ahead…"

A line of cars indicated they were not going anywhere fast, and they realized they'd be very late, perhaps too late. One vehicle laid on its horn, graduating to obscene hand gestures waved out the window. Those drivers nearby responded with colorful words and only the most enchanting of names and labels. Laura grimaced and started rolling up her window, afraid the children in back would hear.

"You might want to go by foot, Laura," Layton suggested strongly, tapping the wheel.

"I won't get much farther, at my speed." She smashed her face to the window, trying to gauge the distance of cars. She couldn't see beyond the fog that she breathed onto the glass. "Goodness…"

"It's faster than we'll be here in the car, so…"

She sat still for a moment. "…I guess we'll just wing it then, huh? Just sit in with the general audience. I'll look for you."

Her door flew open and she hurried towards the sidewalk, out of traffic. As she walked in tandem with the cars, she looked sideways at the Professor's before walking ahead of them. The line moved slowly, and soon the Professor, Luke, and Flora were about twenty cars behind her. The Laytonmobile was finally out of sight, but the question the Professor asked wasn't out of mind.

Pressing forward, she bypassed the parking lots and garages that were hosting the attendees and made a straight shot towards the convention center. Her knees threatened to buckle each time she'd hurry a little faster than what her legs found tolerable, and she sucked in the air furiously whenever she'd push past the borderline.

"Shit…"

A brick arch passed overhead, a wrought-iron sign with a name nailed onto the entrance gate. She didn't bother looking at it; she knew it was a university, but wasn't interested. The campus that she was now trekking across wasn't as homey and rich in visible history as Gressenheller, but she had to admit that it was more expansive. It boasted its own immense convention center—named after some rich benefactor who died in some year on some date…some time ago—and was conveniently located within walking distance of downtown London. Near the heart of the city, it was a hub of urban culture that spoke well with the students.

But now the convention center was the center of attention. The stadium-like arena in the center bustled as the presentation was fast approaching. After several minutes, Laura was allowed backstage access after managing to prove her position at Petrolite (albeit with difficulty: she was accused several times of having a fake ID before a junior guard finally noticed her name and ID number on the VIP list). Departing from the line of commoners, she made her way down a dim tunnel as directed, the deafening noise from the crowd dying away.

Smiling hopefully, Laura saw glowing light at the end and walked through. She was now in what resembled an amphitheater: an open-air stage in the middle, bench seats circling around it like elevated ripples in a pond. The presentation would take place completely outdoors in light of Earth Day, a nice change from fluorescent buzzing lights and bland carpet and wallpaper lecture halls.

The stands were currently flooded with a variety of spectators: old, wispy bureaucrats; young, hip environmentalists; general citizens interested in the announcement. Reporters and photographers lined the stage as far as they were allowed to go, a few trying to set their equipment up just beyond the yellow tape and various gates that security attempted to fortify. Laura snorted. Did such an event deserve all this publicity?

A row of seats for the supposed VIP guests were just below the stage. They were turned to face the podium, and two men already were seated. One had a grumpy disposition, his lower lip pouted, cheeks pinched; the other continuously sighed, nursing a bored drawl with a thin mouth and heavy jaw.

Laura looked around to see if she could spot Leopold, but he was nowhere to be found. Releasing a low growl, she caught sight of a cardboard plaque on the chair next to the bored man. It had her name on it, so she rolled her eyes, picked it up, and sat.

'Figures I have to sit next to this character…'

Just as she was about to get comfortable, her spine stiffened as a set of hands pressed down on her shoulders. The fingers slowly clenched around the roundest part as she sank in her seat.

"So you showed."

She didn't need to look up to know when conceit sounded its whiny voice. Something coursed through her that was both frightening and feral. The feeling she now felt was akin to hunger: a passionate hunger for justice, revenge.

"Wasn't I expected?" she sneered.

"Of course," Leopold whispered softly, barely audible. He patted one of her shoulders, smiling at something invisible, beyond the stage, beyond the podium. "You don't fail, that's for certain."

Biting her tongue, the girl remained silent.

"I'm entirely convinced this will be an announcement that will change the future. Even you will be surprised." His hands lifted. "Sit tight and get ready to see the fruits of your labor, Laura."

"Don't I deserve to know what I've helped with, Leopold?" She dared to turn and stab him with a scrutinizing eye. It no longer mattered what he was: boss, superior, employer. He failed to serve as any of them, and trust was dead between them, if there was any to begin with. "After all, my achievements with this company are mostly by my own hand, without any help. My designs—"

"You are such a funny little girl!" he laughed, chuckling as he started walking away. "You'll get recognition, don't worry. I don't forget to give credit where it's due…"

A pit formed in Laura's stomach, and it only grew into a crater as the afternoon carried on. She couldn't locate the Professor or the children in the sea of faces, the line of seats she was in filled up with stuffy misers, and her tolerance of all things social waned with the time clock. Finally, a balloon of a man with a fox-tail moustache that grew into his sideburns stepped to the main podium. Amidst a fanfare of applause he pulled on his suspenders, his globular body puffing up with pride as his moustache bristled like an excited porcupine.

He pulled the microphone to his furry mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen! I am pleased to extend to you a hearty welcome to the 21st annual 'Eco-Efficiency in Industry Conference', where entrepreneurs both experienced and starting out can learn more about making their enterprise compatible with sustainability and eco-friendly practices!" More applause. "Here you will not only get the chance to impart on a journey that will make your own business more sustainable and safe for the environment, but you will network with like-minded individuals who feel just as passionate about keeping their business afloat while maintaining safe enviro-conscious procedures.

"Now, this year's theme is 'Green Opportunity'..."

Laura was sure the points and issues and topics that would be addressed were substantially important to modern business practices and the world at large, but the weight of outside matters crushed her interest. After the bloat of a man finished, a lanky older gentleman with a hooked nose took the stage and gave some keynote speech of sorts.

'Yes yes, hurry now...when does Leopold start saying something?' The girl fidgeted and squirmed, barely able to stand the wait any longer.

A woman replaced the bird-like man—the woman no less bird-like than he was; perhaps she was even more birdy with her chirpy voice that could fool a finch—and 45 minutes later, Leopold Chancey was finally introduced. Laura shot up and stayed at attention, eyeing him carefully as he took the stage. Rising to the podium like a slippery snake on white trousered legs, he gave a small smile amidst half-hearted clapping and mild chatter; it seemed he still wasn't acquitted of the troubles his ruthless business practices had caused.

He cleared his throat.

"Let me be the 100th person to welcome you to this fine expo we have here today," he began, throwing in flowery language that was expected of introductory pleasantries. His hair was more reflective than usual.

'More of a slime-ball than usual,' Laura thought with disgust. She imagined she could taste whatever holding spray he'd fused into that slicked up head of his. Or maybe it was his acidic tone of voice…

…and that, she now noted, was strange. While he usually crooned and belted out some inane command with that eccentric chortle of his, Leopold's voice now was surprisingly calm. Collected. Bland. He spoke as if the entire crowd was giving him an allergic reaction that he was too proud (or embarrassed) to admit, and he was trying this hardest to just put up with the whole thing until the deed was done. He struggled through the pleasantries, and then sighed, contentment sweeping across his face.

"But before we begin the seminars," he began again after a stint of applause, "I have a little surprise announcement."

A buzz ran through the audience. The hum of whispers and murmurs cascaded through like an auditory wave, a low shock of electricity, and it sent another chill up and down Laura's spine. She sat up and massaged her knees as was her nervous habit. This was it.

"Spill it, creep," Laura growled quietly, the men around her stirring in their seats.

"On this beautiful Earth Day, the 22nd of April, we at Petrolite are going to unveil a new line of drills," the man continued. "As this is a day of environmental awareness, what better day to come clean and admit: oil is a dirty thing! Some might suggest, 'Might we clean up our act?' And I say to you, 'Absolutely'."

He giggled nervously, and searched the row of VIP attendants. Laura sneered back as he smiled mockingly at her. She could barely function now, her anger was so deep. She didn't' even notice the sparse yet strong support from those in the crowd who cheered for what seemed to be a change to more environmentally conscious practices in the petrol industry. Oh, how little they seemed to know…

"And," he continued again after a pause, "there is really no better way to clean up, than to wash away our iniquities…"

Suddenly, the earth quivered, almost undetectably, but just enough to send a jolt through the bodies of everyone present.

"And," Leopold hissed into the microphone, "cleanse us from our sins..."

The crowd was looking around in confusion. For all they'd waited for, the speech was no longer making sense and all of the attendees were becoming anxious with both worry and irritation. A few began to stand and make their way down the aisles, looking for ushers or someone with knowledge of what was going on.

"Oh, don't fuss," came the typical Leopold, his voice aloof yet pleased, "I have a genius engineer on my side. Laura Haris, how about you introduce yourself and your little inventions, hmm? At least an explanation!"

Another tremor, and this time, more powerful and violent. Several people on their feet tumbled and crashed into those still seated. A few women screamed in the fray, and some of the more belligerent men grumbled and shouted their distaste.

"What is the meaning of this?!" one of the men near Laura boomed aloud. "Are you bloomin' mad, Chancey?" Stop speaking in tongues and—!"

He was silenced not by the winner's grin on Leopold's face, but by Laura jumping to her feet. Her eyes blazed as she drilled them into her employer's, several feet above her. He glared down at her from his perch on the stage. She held to her resolve as he looked at her knowingly.

'He activated them. He actually activated them. '

"Now, now, let's calm down," Leopold said soothingly, pushing his hands downward as if motioning to a baby to sit. "My coworker and confidant Laura will be more than happy to entertain all questions pertaining to her machines. Isn't that right, Laura?"

"No." No one heard her, but she knew he saw her mouth the word bitterly.

The businessman looked to the aisles flanking the stage; several security guards and reporters began trudging their way towards him. If he was going to fly…

"Well," he shouted into the microphone once more, "time is short, and I must take my leave. But I do hope you enjoy the rest of your April day. After all…

"What are May flowers without April showers?"

In a blur of white suit, he bolted to the exit just out of the hands of security and on-site police officers. In the matter of seconds, a flutter of rumors made its way through the crowd, and the gathering exploded into chaos.

Laura, previously tense and clenching her fists, looked around her like a deer in the headlights. Men, women, students, reporters: all started bombarding her from every direction, each one racing to an exit. She heard the word 'terrorist' ring through the air a few times before feeling her entire body smashed against the side of the wooden stage. Someone trampled a fallen woman, and she clung to Laura's lab coat desperately, begging to be rescued from the twisted sea of shoes and legs. Laura shrugged out of the coat and left the poor lady behind as the mass of bodies swept past her, sliding along the wall. She reached out and finally was able to grab the railing to the stairs.

Racing to the stage, she looked out in the crowd frantically and tried to spot the iconic top hat. It wasn't long before the Professor and the children were in her sights. All pride lost, she waved her arms wildly and screamed above the cacophony. Finally, Luke spotted her and pointed. Soon they were making their way to the stage.

The Professor practically tripped up the short staircase. "It seems we've hit a real snag. Reports seem to have picked up some seismic activity off the coast and—"

"Are you surprised?" Laura barked, waving her arms. "He just detonated a time bomb! Several! A lot of those damn drills just cracked into fault lines, and you're telling me about seismic activity! We know all this already!"

"Well, it's what follows that's the real problem!"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware," she spat, looking around. Most of the people in the audience had made it out of the amphitheater and a few guards eyed the group on the stage. They stood at the exits, debating whether or not to prompt them to leave. "Let's just get out of here."

The campus was in shambles as people scattered across the grounds trying to find loved ones, trying to calm the frantic, trying to make a wise exit before whatever the threat was came to pass. The quickest were already hauling out their vehicles, cutting across landscaping and through short hedges. No one seemed to keep a cool head except a few police and the Professor and his crew.

"So this is catastrophe," Laura said, taking in the sights of excitement and fear. Her eyes met Luke's, then Flora's. There she saw bravery mixed with fright, a fear so pure it put a pressure in their young minds that forced a continuous debate: should I stay, or should I go? Fight, or flight?

'Fight…' the young engineer thought silently. 'As much as I would love to soar away right now…'

"Laura," Layton said sternly, "we don't have much time."

"Right, and there's really only one thing we can do." She pointed around the area, signifying the buildings just past the university's boundaries. "Residential. We have to try to warn as many people as we can. If we don't hurry, this place will be under water, and everyone's going to drown. A tsunami, or several, will follow those tremors." Luke stared hard at the ground as Flora gasped, small gems shining at the corners of her chocolate eyes. "That's the truth. I won't sugar coat it, guys."

Her legs began carrying her, but the Professor grabbed her arm.

"And with your legs? How far do you actually suppose you'll get?"

"I will run."

"We need to take the car—" Snap! He released his clutch on her and recoiled at her slap, looking at her incredulously. "What in the—"

"I did this. I wasn't astute. It's my fault this is happening."

"Laura, I don't care what he said back there, and I don't care if you played a part, it's not logical—"

"Most things that I've experienced don't work out well, Hershel, whether I use logic or not!" She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to punch him! If not for the children, he'd be snorting a fresh flow of blood through his nostrils and tasting iron. "For this, I need to try and warn as many people as I can. If you want the Laytonmobile, then so be it. You need to save Luke and Flora."

While he agreed with her words, the gentleman code kicked him repeatedly, vying for attention. "But…what about you…"

"Leopold said, 'Cleanse us of our sins'… I don't know his motive, I don't know his logic. What I do know is my sin was blindness. I can't help it! I'm guilty!

"So as for me, I will run."

The girl blended with daring reporters and stressed security personnel, and in the Professor's mind, it would most likely be the last time he'd see her alive.

END. Review! DON'T FORGET, YOU LITTLE...