Supercide, Chapter 1
- Note: This is a chapter from my entry for NaNoWriMo. It's a first draft and thus editing is minimal, at best. Criticism is welcome, but understand no serious editing efforts will take place on this story until after November. I'm just posting this as is so I still have some content to post while trying to finish the challenge.
The scientist Simon Kongroo drove his car through the rain as the storm slowly picked up. It was not raining very hard yet, but he was still forced to keep his lights on, windshield wipers whirring, and both hands firmly on the stirring wheel. He had just finished one of the most gruelling tasks he had ever engaged in.
Negotiations with businessmen and marketing agents.
He was a solitary man, one who loved to tinker away in a lab for hours, days, even weeks if he could get people to leave him alone. He made a healthy income off of some pharmaceutical patents, but nothing that made him a wealthy man by any stretch. No, his latest project was what would establish him as a household name. It would likely make him wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, though he cared little for that. What he cared about was the revolution he was about to be the instigator of.
He had created the stuff only imagined within the pages of comic books. The Phlebotnium of the masses that people always speculated about, but never really considered as possible. Super powers.
Super strength was his first and most obvious idea. Something akin to steroids but to a far greater extent, and without any major health risks. It took him longer than he thought it would, a full two years, but he created an incredibly rough version that he tested on himself to show investors. It let him lift a car, only lasted a handful of minutes, and left him wracked with horrible pain for several hours afterward. But it worked, and that let him get capital for further development.
Simon turned his car down a new street as the rain continued to increase in intensity, prompting him to accelerate his windshield wipers.
Next was clear; flight. He had several ideas, but eventually settled on a kind of biological turbine design. Or, at least he understood it that way; explain his theory of aerofluorentication to the layman was not only difficult, but counterproductive as it gave others insight into his highly secretive research. All they needed to know was a drink of the serum would allow a subject to move faster, and levitate several hundred feet off the ground for ten minutes. He disliked the time limit even more, as it presented a serious issue for anyone foolish enough to be at high altitudes when it ran out. Even he had nearly broken a leg when first testing it for more investors.
The rain was puring now, and Simon cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella or jacket. He was going to get soaked.
He had kept at it for years, which then stretched into a decade. A full twenty years then passed, leading him to this final stage. He had a whole line of super powers now, several of the more thoroughly tested ones being ready for mass production; specifically, super strength, heightened speed and reflexes, and flight. Many more were getting close, but he needed more time to make sure they were stable. His own health had suffered greatly for his tests, but he hardly cared. A fat man eating fast food everyday was in a much worse place than he was when it came to life expectancy. He still had at least a couple decades left if he took care of himself, but while the morbidly obese had only a flattened set of couch cushions, he held patents to the greatest technological marvels in modern history.
He parked the car in the driveway of his combination house and laboratory, dashing through the rain as he fumbled with his keys. He dropped them, grumbling as he grew more drenched by the second. Eventually, he managed to reach the door with keys in hand so that he might shelter himself from the unending rain.
“Ben? Are you here?”
There was no response from his assistant, but Simon expected as much. He had taken Ben Turner as an apprentice when he heard the assistance would be absolutely free. He rationalized that Ben was also capable, but that was mostly to other people. Simon had always felt other people a bit slow compared to him, and Ben was no exception. Still, Ben eventually proved himself as a valuable asset, running the more menial experiments and documenting results while Simon increased the scope of his venture. Simon never cared about the money, and thus promised Ben a full Half of the final patent royalties. It was still going to be far more than either of them could spend in their remaining lifetimes.
It was only four in the afternoon, realized Simon. Ben should be here, working. Just because Simon was out in a business meeting did not mean everything could grind to a halt. “Ben? Did you finish your stage three analysis on batch G-7? I don’t care if you hadn’t, I’m hungry and I figure we should celebrate by going out for a steak dinner. I sealed the deal, and we’ve got our very first million. Best part, it’s not an exclusive deal. So we are going to be seeing a lot more of those in the near future.”
Simon entered the computer lab. No one there. Chemical processing, empty. Basement vault was bare, too, so-
Simon ripped open the door and looked again. The vault was open, and it was empty. He leaned against the wall, trying to not hyperventilate. After regaining his composure ever so slightly, he noticed a note taped to the door. He tore it off roughly, already having an inkling of what it might say.
Simon,
I’m sorry to do this to you. I tried to reason with you, but you left me no choice. These serums can change the world, creating world peace and solving other humanitarian crisises. They must be entrusted to only those who will help improve the world, and I plan on doing just that. I contacted some people I know, and we are going to form a multi-national defense league. Haven’t decided on a name yet, but that can always come later.
Again, I’m sorry I had to do this. But you just wanted to sell them like commoditites. It was going to make the world worse, not better. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make sure you still get paid. Just trust me.
-Ben
Simon’s hands shook more with rage as he read, culminating in him ripping up the note in rage as he stormed upstairs. He checked the equipment. It was all sabotaged. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in gene sequencers, multi-phase centrifuges, dimensional predictor chambers to help with quantum redetermination… all of it bordered on irreplaceable. Even the things he bought from other vendors was heavily modified.
He stomped upstairs to his bedroom. He pulled back the painting over his bed, and saw the vault behind it had been broken into as well to make off with his research document backups. He smiled. Lifting his mattress, he peeled an extra sticker that camouflaged his tertiary vault. It had not been broken into, and held a copy of his research as well.
“Hehe… Ben must think I’m stupid. He only found a single extra vault? He really should have suspected I would have a dozen throughout my own lab… one-way quantum entanglement is a heck of a backup procedure.”
Simon, reminding himself to not talk to himself so much, walked back down to the lab, just to stare at his now useless collection of equipment. Ben knew how it all worked, and thus knew how to completely total it beyond repair. He would need to take out a loan just to begin rebuilding, and would need to explain to his business partners how this could happen. Ben had the knowledge and necessary expertise to engineer every single sample, and no doubt he had the machinery ready to do so. Simon realized he should have been more suspicious when Ben asked to ‘borrow’ some of the older equipment, as this had probably been Ben’s plan for months. Simon scowled.
He had tried to explain to Ben. Introducing these serums to the public was like introducing the gun. It could completely destabilize global seats of power. It needed to be done delicately, with the rollout providing a modest amount to every freedom-centric society at the same time and for a sizable price. This would prevent mass panic and chaos as people slowly adjusted to the idea, and more numerous and more affordable powers became available to more people. It was dangerous, but it could be managed to not destroy the world as they knew it.
Despondent, Simon walked in to the living room, plopped into his recliner and turned on the tv. As expected, a news report about a kid preaching the virtues of a super powered group of freedom fighters and peace keepers. Simon sighed, seeing the beginning of the end in the display happening outside his reach. He was overwhelmed at the task, but now he only had one objective.
Rebuild his operation, and reclaim his prestige as being the inventor of super powers. Vengeance against Ben might be in there somewhere, but he only cared about what was rightfully his. Complete and total recognition for his achievement.