NaNo :: Day 16 - 1,688 words; 21,596/50,000.
Day One. Day Eleven.
Day Two. Day Twelve.
Day Three. Day Thirteen.
Day Four. Day Fourteen.
Day Five. Day Fifteen.
Day Six.
Day Seven.
Day Eight.
Day Nine.
Day Ten.
Those glasses were all anyone ever saw of the man at first, those round, eerie, often glowing spectacles that seemed to stare at a person soullessly. Then his other features came into focus, and that only made the picture more grotesque and chilling. Long, greasy black hair was pulled away from a broad, sweaty forehead in a low-slung ponytail at the nape of his lengthy, crooked neck. He wore a white labcoat, which hung in an ill-fit from his wiry frame over a drab suit, a mustard yellow tie which did little to distract from copper-coloured stains splattered all over the coat. His knotted hands, shaking slightly with a palsy of old age, sat almost primly in his lap, two dove-white wounded birds collapsed hopelessly into a mount. With his head turned, his shoulders twisted with his gaze, though his knees stayed forward, giving the man a horrible disjointed look, angles that seemed unreal and impossible, like a body bend on cement after a long fall and the wrong landing.
“Ah, Dr. Yetomini,” said Eeben with a nod of his head and dread in his stomach. “I was just on my way to the Science Building.”
He had been going in hopes that, in doing so, he could avoid Akira Yetomini all together, though. It never occurred to him that Akira Yetomini would be the one coming to meet him.
“Then perhaps,” said Akira, his voice thick with an old world accent, “I have saved you some trouble, Captain Rynt.” There was an odd expression flickering across what little of his face wasn’t hidden by his glowing glasses. Eeben thought it was a grimace at first, but then he realized that the man was only attempting to smile.
“Indeed,” Eeben said, trying to get the horrible attempt out of his head. “Your department always has been a marvel of efficiency, Doctor.”
Eeben expected some reply of witty banter or other similar way of throwing around the typical bandying of departmental small talk, but it didn’t come. That unnatural smile just sat there, filling the silence with expectant awkwardness. Eeben felt it creeping into him, like maggots, through the pores of his skin.
“So.” Eventually, he forced something out of his mouth, “what brings you into this neck of the woods, anyway, Doctor?”
“Surely, Captain,” said Akira, his heavy head bobbing precariously on his thin neck, “you have not forgotten the significance of today’s date.”
Something in that snaky tone suggested an oversight or a forgetful disposition, things that were anathema to an upstanding man like Eeben Rynt, so he drew himself up in tall disagreement of the indirect accusation. “Of course not,” he said, a bit gruffly. “Why else do you think I was coming down toward your own department?”
It was possible that Akira’s hunched, fallen shoulders were incapable of shrugging and that was why he simply shook his head instead. There was a certain swing to it, a swooping that made him appear a crouching vulture watching the steady circle of flies over a fresh carcass. “Very important,” he said in a mutter. “Too important to allow any mistakes, Captain. We must make sure that none of your fine men or women make the mistake of having a hand in its failure.”
“I assure you, Doctor,” said Eeben with a great deal of control in his voice, “you’ve nothing to worry about in that regard from my division.”
“Let us hope not,” he said, in that archaic, dusty way of his. “Let us hope not; the result could be terrible. Just terrible.”
It was amazing how such a frail man could turn words that, out of anyone else, might sound sympathetic or worried, into something that sounded vaguely threatening. But perhaps that was simply because Eeben and Akira were both old fixtures at this place, which meant Eeben knew all too well what this frail man was actually capable of accomplishing. He had many rusty memories of terrible war, but the things on Akira’s roster of achievements cause those memories to go pale. The things on that roster were almost unimaginable.
They were things like what would occur tonight, growing worse with each following day. Eeben tried not to think about it; a man could go man if he thought about the things he was expected to do in this world.
“As you said,” Eeben pressed on as patiently as he could manage, “I was just on my way to your department to confirm that everything is ready to go.”
He cleared his throat a little, reminded of another reason why he had wanted to go down to the Science Department himself, to talk to one of the other doctors. Akira knew precisely what was going on, while the others didn’t, kept safely out of the loop for their own good and the good of the main objective. So, when he spoke to Akira, his words were ones they both knew were carefully guarded and misleading, strictly for the benefit of his ignorant, pretty little secretary. Eeben despised it. It was easy to lie to people who believed in what you were saying to them, but as soon as someone knowledgeable to the lie or the adorning of the hidden truth came into the picture, Eeben just couldn’t do it as well anymore. Because someone knew just as much as he did what he was doing. He forced himself to continue, in a tight tone that vaguely resembled interdepartmental camaraderie, hashing over details that they both knew were bullshit.
“The longer that bad shipment sits in our stations, Doctor, the more chance there is of something unfortunate happening. I know we’re all professionals here, but I also know that it’s some pretty potent stuff in those trains. Sitting there, they’re like time bombs. You can be assured that they are getting taken care of tonight, Doctor; I’ve assigned a special team to the task, and now that I’ve run into you here instead of having to go all the way over to Science, I can devote a little more time to preparing them, so I guess thanks are in order.”
Whether Akira bobbed his head again in acknowledgement of the thanks or simply because gravity seemed a constant problem in keeping it up, Eeben would never know, nor would he care, but it was followed by something that made him stare at the man with a pure, unadulterated hate.
The glasses were clear now, no longer lit from the florescent overheads, and his small black eyes looked straight at Eeben. “I trust you have selected this contingent wisely, Captain, and that they fully understand the level of danger they will, unfortunately, inevitably, be exposed to in the chance of the slightest error.”
“Yes,” said Eeben, as congenially as he could manage through his gritted to just shout out and call Akira out for the bastard he was. “Of course. They’ve been outfitted with the proper equipment and a few precautionary shots in the case something goes wrong.”
Placebos, all of them, but it wasn’t as thought it mattered. If anything killed them, it wasn’t going to be the shipment itself, and, if nothing killed them in the whole ordeal, those soldiers were going to wish that something had. Choosing these men (Eeben could not bring himself to choose any women, no matter how much Maria, unknowing, harped him for it) was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, making him feel like he was personally the author of the beginning of their ends, and he could only hope it wound up coming swift and merciless. Things had to be done, though, and Captain Eeben Rynt of the DRAFES had always been a man who got them done, even if it slowly killed him inside. He hated every single thing about this mission, and Akira knew that. Akira knew it and he was using it to make him say it all out loud, though it was completely unnecessary. He knew just where it hurt most, and was slowly twisting his hand into it, twisting it and watching Eeben squirm.
But Eeben was going to try his damnedest not to budge an inch.
“Ah,” the sound, like a sigh, rattled in Akira’s frail neck, leaving Eeben to note just how easy it would be to snap it, “yes. Now I remember. Dr. Usagi administered their treatments, did she not? They should be well covered, indeed.”
“They are very strong individuals,” added Eeben with an air of pride for the receptionist to take in before he nodded at her. Her back straightened and her eyes lit up with relief, knowing the nod as a sign that she was dismissed for the day. She was more than happy to start shuffling around her things to prepare to leave. Eeben himself reached for his hat in a subtle suggestion that he would begin to do the same.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Yetomini,” he said, fitting the formed military cap easily onto his head. “Everything seems to be in order, so I should be heading out to administer to my men.”
“By all means.” Akira’s bony hand left his miniscule lap to reach for a cane that had been leaning against the chair next to his own. It was an old black thing, as knotted and withered-seeming as the man himself. He used it to bring himself up to his feet, slow and creaking and causing Eeben to wonder how the man managed to move at all. It was a show, he decided. Akira had to be putting on this entire feeble façade, shaking as he wearily tried to straighten his legs. After all, the man had to have quite the extensive knowledge of how muscles and bones worked and how they didn’t, and Eeben wouldn’t be surprised at all if everything Akira did was entrenched in some sort of lie, some sort of act, performing and keeping secrets from the entire world.
But, considering himself to be a polite gentleman, Eeben waited for Akira to steady himself, so that he could see the doctor out properly.
AAAKIIRAAAAA.
Oh, crazy creepy mad scientist that once had someone vaguely accuse me of minor racism toward the Japanese. XD How I have missed you.
And even the word count is something substantial, too! Now I can go to bed and stop spamming...until I try to do more catch up (maybe) in my typing again tomorrow.
Day Two. Day Twelve.
Day Three. Day Thirteen.
Day Four. Day Fourteen.
Day Five. Day Fifteen.
Day Six.
Day Seven.
Day Eight.
Day Nine.
Day Ten.
Those glasses were all anyone ever saw of the man at first, those round, eerie, often glowing spectacles that seemed to stare at a person soullessly. Then his other features came into focus, and that only made the picture more grotesque and chilling. Long, greasy black hair was pulled away from a broad, sweaty forehead in a low-slung ponytail at the nape of his lengthy, crooked neck. He wore a white labcoat, which hung in an ill-fit from his wiry frame over a drab suit, a mustard yellow tie which did little to distract from copper-coloured stains splattered all over the coat. His knotted hands, shaking slightly with a palsy of old age, sat almost primly in his lap, two dove-white wounded birds collapsed hopelessly into a mount. With his head turned, his shoulders twisted with his gaze, though his knees stayed forward, giving the man a horrible disjointed look, angles that seemed unreal and impossible, like a body bend on cement after a long fall and the wrong landing.
“Ah, Dr. Yetomini,” said Eeben with a nod of his head and dread in his stomach. “I was just on my way to the Science Building.”
He had been going in hopes that, in doing so, he could avoid Akira Yetomini all together, though. It never occurred to him that Akira Yetomini would be the one coming to meet him.
“Then perhaps,” said Akira, his voice thick with an old world accent, “I have saved you some trouble, Captain Rynt.” There was an odd expression flickering across what little of his face wasn’t hidden by his glowing glasses. Eeben thought it was a grimace at first, but then he realized that the man was only attempting to smile.
“Indeed,” Eeben said, trying to get the horrible attempt out of his head. “Your department always has been a marvel of efficiency, Doctor.”
Eeben expected some reply of witty banter or other similar way of throwing around the typical bandying of departmental small talk, but it didn’t come. That unnatural smile just sat there, filling the silence with expectant awkwardness. Eeben felt it creeping into him, like maggots, through the pores of his skin.
“So.” Eventually, he forced something out of his mouth, “what brings you into this neck of the woods, anyway, Doctor?”
“Surely, Captain,” said Akira, his heavy head bobbing precariously on his thin neck, “you have not forgotten the significance of today’s date.”
Something in that snaky tone suggested an oversight or a forgetful disposition, things that were anathema to an upstanding man like Eeben Rynt, so he drew himself up in tall disagreement of the indirect accusation. “Of course not,” he said, a bit gruffly. “Why else do you think I was coming down toward your own department?”
It was possible that Akira’s hunched, fallen shoulders were incapable of shrugging and that was why he simply shook his head instead. There was a certain swing to it, a swooping that made him appear a crouching vulture watching the steady circle of flies over a fresh carcass. “Very important,” he said in a mutter. “Too important to allow any mistakes, Captain. We must make sure that none of your fine men or women make the mistake of having a hand in its failure.”
“I assure you, Doctor,” said Eeben with a great deal of control in his voice, “you’ve nothing to worry about in that regard from my division.”
“Let us hope not,” he said, in that archaic, dusty way of his. “Let us hope not; the result could be terrible. Just terrible.”
It was amazing how such a frail man could turn words that, out of anyone else, might sound sympathetic or worried, into something that sounded vaguely threatening. But perhaps that was simply because Eeben and Akira were both old fixtures at this place, which meant Eeben knew all too well what this frail man was actually capable of accomplishing. He had many rusty memories of terrible war, but the things on Akira’s roster of achievements cause those memories to go pale. The things on that roster were almost unimaginable.
They were things like what would occur tonight, growing worse with each following day. Eeben tried not to think about it; a man could go man if he thought about the things he was expected to do in this world.
“As you said,” Eeben pressed on as patiently as he could manage, “I was just on my way to your department to confirm that everything is ready to go.”
He cleared his throat a little, reminded of another reason why he had wanted to go down to the Science Department himself, to talk to one of the other doctors. Akira knew precisely what was going on, while the others didn’t, kept safely out of the loop for their own good and the good of the main objective. So, when he spoke to Akira, his words were ones they both knew were carefully guarded and misleading, strictly for the benefit of his ignorant, pretty little secretary. Eeben despised it. It was easy to lie to people who believed in what you were saying to them, but as soon as someone knowledgeable to the lie or the adorning of the hidden truth came into the picture, Eeben just couldn’t do it as well anymore. Because someone knew just as much as he did what he was doing. He forced himself to continue, in a tight tone that vaguely resembled interdepartmental camaraderie, hashing over details that they both knew were bullshit.
“The longer that bad shipment sits in our stations, Doctor, the more chance there is of something unfortunate happening. I know we’re all professionals here, but I also know that it’s some pretty potent stuff in those trains. Sitting there, they’re like time bombs. You can be assured that they are getting taken care of tonight, Doctor; I’ve assigned a special team to the task, and now that I’ve run into you here instead of having to go all the way over to Science, I can devote a little more time to preparing them, so I guess thanks are in order.”
Whether Akira bobbed his head again in acknowledgement of the thanks or simply because gravity seemed a constant problem in keeping it up, Eeben would never know, nor would he care, but it was followed by something that made him stare at the man with a pure, unadulterated hate.
The glasses were clear now, no longer lit from the florescent overheads, and his small black eyes looked straight at Eeben. “I trust you have selected this contingent wisely, Captain, and that they fully understand the level of danger they will, unfortunately, inevitably, be exposed to in the chance of the slightest error.”
“Yes,” said Eeben, as congenially as he could manage through his gritted to just shout out and call Akira out for the bastard he was. “Of course. They’ve been outfitted with the proper equipment and a few precautionary shots in the case something goes wrong.”
Placebos, all of them, but it wasn’t as thought it mattered. If anything killed them, it wasn’t going to be the shipment itself, and, if nothing killed them in the whole ordeal, those soldiers were going to wish that something had. Choosing these men (Eeben could not bring himself to choose any women, no matter how much Maria, unknowing, harped him for it) was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, making him feel like he was personally the author of the beginning of their ends, and he could only hope it wound up coming swift and merciless. Things had to be done, though, and Captain Eeben Rynt of the DRAFES had always been a man who got them done, even if it slowly killed him inside. He hated every single thing about this mission, and Akira knew that. Akira knew it and he was using it to make him say it all out loud, though it was completely unnecessary. He knew just where it hurt most, and was slowly twisting his hand into it, twisting it and watching Eeben squirm.
But Eeben was going to try his damnedest not to budge an inch.
“Ah,” the sound, like a sigh, rattled in Akira’s frail neck, leaving Eeben to note just how easy it would be to snap it, “yes. Now I remember. Dr. Usagi administered their treatments, did she not? They should be well covered, indeed.”
“They are very strong individuals,” added Eeben with an air of pride for the receptionist to take in before he nodded at her. Her back straightened and her eyes lit up with relief, knowing the nod as a sign that she was dismissed for the day. She was more than happy to start shuffling around her things to prepare to leave. Eeben himself reached for his hat in a subtle suggestion that he would begin to do the same.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Yetomini,” he said, fitting the formed military cap easily onto his head. “Everything seems to be in order, so I should be heading out to administer to my men.”
“By all means.” Akira’s bony hand left his miniscule lap to reach for a cane that had been leaning against the chair next to his own. It was an old black thing, as knotted and withered-seeming as the man himself. He used it to bring himself up to his feet, slow and creaking and causing Eeben to wonder how the man managed to move at all. It was a show, he decided. Akira had to be putting on this entire feeble façade, shaking as he wearily tried to straighten his legs. After all, the man had to have quite the extensive knowledge of how muscles and bones worked and how they didn’t, and Eeben wouldn’t be surprised at all if everything Akira did was entrenched in some sort of lie, some sort of act, performing and keeping secrets from the entire world.
But, considering himself to be a polite gentleman, Eeben waited for Akira to steady himself, so that he could see the doctor out properly.
AAAKIIRAAAAA.
Oh, crazy creepy mad scientist that once had someone vaguely accuse me of minor racism toward the Japanese. XD How I have missed you.
And even the word count is something substantial, too! Now I can go to bed and stop spamming...until I try to do more catch up (maybe) in my typing again tomorrow.