Summary: James Marcus asks Oswell E. Spencer to use human test subjects for T-virus research.
Marcus was sitting on an aseptic steel stool. He looked emaciated, more wrinkled and haggard than the last time.
"This is urgent," Marcus said as Spencer sat down on another steel stool across the table from him.
"Shoot." Spencer took a packet of cigarettes from his jacket and lit a cigarette.
"It's about my experiments with the T-virus... There's a question... Um... about the test subjects... There's a question about the subjects."
Spencer contented himself with inhaling and exhaling the smoke from his cigar. He said nothing.
"The subjects I've used so far... The rats. Some insects. And primates. They're not enough. I've been thinking and I think... I think our T-virus research is starting to hit rock bottom."
"Do you want to use humans as test subjects?" Spencer blurted out, unprompted.
Marcus was taken aback by his colleague's abrupt reaction, but he soon regained his composure because he had got it right.
"Yes. I need human subjects to progress the T-virus tests. I need us to go back to the original approach of using the Progenitor in humans to test its effects on the organism in situ. I need to go back to the roots, to the original idea, to what we agreed was possible. If Edward hadn't died..."
"We can't control when we die, but we can control what we do before we die." Spencer borrowed an empty petri dish to use as an ashtray. "Our original idea, what we agreed on, was to use the Ndipaya as test subjects for the Progenitor virus. Isn't that right?"
"Yes."
"Edward and I were to set up the facilities and work out the plan with the local authorities. Umbrella would be the cover. We were going to start a new phase, but then Edward died in that accident in Germany and it all came to nothing. Isn't that right?"
"Yes," James repeated.
"Alexander suddenly disappeared and the lines of investigation fell apart. We had to salvage the furniture separately and now we're struggling to scrape together the slightest breakthrough. And now, Marcus, now we're screwed." Spencer stubbed out the cigarette on the plate to light a new one.
"Screwed how?"
"What we did in Vietnam was good to get us going. Human guinea pigs for drugs. Better than nothing. But... I've also realised that we have a problem with our core business. I have just come back from England. I've got an idea, Jamie. There's a candidate for Prime Minister in the UK, Margaret Thatcher, who, if she wins, promises us a market liberalisation that will balance all of Umbrella's books in one fell swoop. If she wins."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"If Thatcher wins and the books balance, Umbrella becomes profitable and our investors are happy. The happier our investors are, the more interested they are in funding our projects. And the more they fund our projects, the more money we can reinvest from our equity to expand the lines of research; and the more expanded the lines of research... The more test subjects. It's very simple."
Marcus sighed in irritation. He hated politics.
"Tsk. It's all about fucking politics." Marcus angrily crumpled the paper he was reading. "Fucking politics." He threw it on the floor.
"Take it easy, Jamie. Take it easy." Spencer soothed him with the second half-finished cigarette. "Sasha's[1] on it and he's fine. Have a little patience. Everything's going to go according to plan."
"Like last time." Marcus sneered bitterly.
"We're going to do it, James." Spencer leaned closer to his pessimistic friend. "What I did in Raccoon City, in my country house... I told you it could be done. Those two students you recommended... They're already working on it. We just need to make a few adjustments to finish setting up the labs so we can proceed with the second phase of the project."
"And where will we get the human subjects from?"
"I'll have to talk to Alexander about that."
Marcus scratched his cheek.
"Be patient. Trust me. I'm the first to want to keep the business afloat. Keep doing what you want around here because there's not much to do until next year's election."
"What are you going to do?" Marcus stroked his growing grey beard.
"I'm going to tour Europe. In France, overseeing the construction of the new headquarters. In West Germany[2] doing the paperwork. In London with our partners."
"And Edward's son?"
"He'll spend at least two years here in the United States because his daughter is starting university."
"Tsk." Marcus picked up a pen and began to scribble a report. "So much money to babysit."
"Don't be too hard on him." Spencer tucked the rucksack into his jacket. "He is young and has a mission to continue his bloodline. They are Stuarts; the future of the kingdom depends on them," he joked.
"This is what America was founded for, to get away from this nonsense."
Spencer stubbed out his second cigar.
"I'm a nobleman, and I'm single and childless. It's not all bad."
"You're a paragon of virtue, Oz."
Notes:
[1] Alexander Ashford's family nickname.
[2] Federal Republic of Germany.