Chapitre 1
As I exited the bus, my focus remained locked on the electronic tablet in my hands. Unmindful of my surroundings, I paid no attention to the ground beneath my feet or the path that stretched ahead. A momentary lapse in my awareness brought me dangerously close to the trajectory of an oncoming motorcycle, yet I remained oblivious, consumed by my reading.
Stepping into a towering structure crafted from glass and steel, I effortlessly swiped the magnetic card secured to my vest, granting myself access. The once-muted foyer stirred with subdued greetings as I strode with unwavering purpose toward the banks of elevators. Within the elevator, two individuals adorned in pristine white lab coats engaged in animated discourse, scarcely sparing me a glance.
"Do you have any inkling about the proceedings here?"
"Word on the grapevine is they're on the hunt for Dr. Volturi and his team."
"Why summon everyone to the auditorium? Aro won't make a move without firm financial commitments for his ventures."
Their conversation piqued my curiosity. Dr. Aro Volturi, a formidable researcher, was renowned for his prowess as much as his arrogance. A consistent thorn in my side, his attitude towards me was likely a result of my indifference to his illustrious career and groundbreaking discoveries. My demeanor remained courteous, yet I had never exhibited the servile reverence he often garnered from others. I was well aware that Aro, now in his sixties, had spent a considerable portion of his career appropriating the achievements of his younger associates.
Seeing me tilt my head in their direction, almost catching their gaze, the two turned their attention to me.
"Good day, Dr. Swan!"
"I've perused your latest article. I'd be delighted to share my thoughts if you have a moment. Perhaps this evening over a drink?"
With a polite smile, I acknowledged their greetings, my response measured. "Thank you both. Your kind words are appreciated." Interpreting the nuances of their expressions remained a challenge for me, as I often struggled to decipher the intricate tapestry of emotions woven into human interaction. Engaging in casual conversation and the subtle flirtations my colleagues often indulged in had never held much appeal for me, partly due to my discomfort in navigating these social intricacies.
"Regarding my article, I have a rather intricate schedule ahead, and my evenings tend to be occupied," I replied, my tone reserved but sincere. While I valued the insights of others, my own analytical approach often rendered external perspectives superfluous, even from those I respected.
Their expressions held a tinge of disappointment, though they maintained their courteous smiles. "Of course, Dr. Swan. Should you ever find the time, we'd be eager to exchange thoughts," one of them said, a subtle hint of hope still lingering in his voice.
"Thank you for understanding," I replied, inclining my head slightly. The elevator doors opened, signaling my arrival at my designated floor, and I excused myself with a nod. As I stepped out, a wave of relief washed over me, my unease gradually abating as I distanced myself from the interaction..
Despite the necessity of sharing my personal space with others and bearing the social pressures that accompany a shared workspace, I find myself genuinely grateful for this job. While it necessitates interactions and a certain degree of engagement, it doesn't demand an excessive investment of my time or mental energy. It functions as the perfect façade for my extracurricular pursuits, enabling me to conduct the type of research I have always aspired to undertake.
Early on, it became abundantly clear that the pivotal first step toward success lay in acquiring substantial financial backing. Money, a potent tool, possesses the ability to grant freedom, the means to chart one's own course in a world dictated by constraints. However, the challenge arises from the fact that accumulating wealth at an accelerated pace is far from discreet. Discretion is paramount when safeguarding one's intellectual property from the clutches of governments, evading nationalization, and dodging top-secret classifications.
Industrial espionage, whether orchestrated by private entities or carried out under the banners of organizations like the CIA, has often buried groundbreaking discoveries that could have benefitted humanity long ago. The pursuit of profit or power has driven some of the most profound perversions of progress in the 20th and 21st centuries. I am keenly aware of these pitfalls and have positioned myself to forge an entirely unassuming identity within a laboratory devoid of grander objectives than catering to those who seek annual vaccines for ailments as minor as the common cold or sore throat.
This seemingly innocuous persona has served as my well-crafted façade, diverting attention from my alternative endeavors and additional streams of income. Beneath this veneer, I am on a mission to unlock the secrets that lie at the heart of my clandestine research—secrets that could revolutionize our understanding of the world and reshape the course of history itself.
Alone now in my office, I feign ignorance of the persistent yellow flashing on my screen—an urgent message alert. Already, I know that Marcus is notifying me of a gathering in the grand auditorium, a summons I have no intention of heeding. It will be effortless to pretend I never saw his message, and he will likely attribute my absence to agoraphobia, suspecting that the prospect of joining them overwhelmed me. No, what truly matters to me at this moment is completing my reports after reviewing the last batch of experiments from yesterday. With the absence of my colleagues, I can compile my findings much more swiftly. The sooner I finish, the quicker I can delve into what's been troubling me for the past few days.
HM-a has forwarded satellite transcriptions of peculiar maritime activities in various countries of Southeast Asia. Nothing in the data hacked by HM-a had hinted at tensions in that part of the world. Even more disconcerting, a satellite moratorium, radio silence, and a complete absence of CIA database reports have clouded the situation in mystery.
Madame Cope, our administrative assistant, raps on the lab's glass door:
"Dr. Swan, your presence is required downstairs. Haven't you received the alert?"
I withhold my response.
"Dr. Swan, your presence is mandatory..."
Madame Cope remains by the entrance of the lab, unwavering. I have no choice now. After one final glance at my tablet to ascertain if I've received any new coded messages from HM, I reluctantly follow my colleague.
These maritime transcriptions hold a profound interest for me. They lie in an area where much of my contraband is intended to depart, destined for a safer haven. I've orchestrated an intricate network, ensuring my shipments reach their intended recipients unscathed. Yet, while I've taken every precaution, a shiver of unease runs down my spine at the thought of these materials falling into the wrong hands. The intricate web of suppliers I've relied upon could be irrevocably compromised, should these contents be discovered by the wrong individuals.
My mind races with anticipation as I traverse the hallways, pondering the nature of the meeting awaiting us in the auditorium. My unease grows exponentially when I catch fragments of hushed conversations between passing colleagues, fragments that hint at the unexpected gravity of the situation. It's not until I enter the cavernous space of the auditorium that the truth becomes clear. The CDC. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. We are all here, summoned by the CDC.
As murmurs ripple through the crowd, my heart races. Why would the CDC be convening us? Anxiety tightens its grip around me, a sensation that only amplifies my discomfort in this sprawling room filled with colleagues, many of whom I can barely bring myself to face on a normal day. My mind, however, remains steadfast on my secret research, on the hidden currents of information I've been navigating. The stakes have just been raised, the waters have become more treacherous. I can only hope that my careful cover will be enough to withstand the scrutiny of the CDC's gaze.