Seemed A Little Cruel
Far into the ocean stood a small island that rose high into the clouds. It was so steep that one wouldn’t even find a goat trying to climb it. The base of the island was scattered with thorn bushes, poisonous flowers, toxic frogs, giant spiders, and fire ants. At the very top of the island was a cave opening big enough to fit a helicopter if you tried hard enough.
Inside the cave was like a whole different place. The floors were tiled, and fluorescent tubes hung from the ceiling. A metal staircase led up to the top of the island, and down to the floors below. Several vats filled with bright red liquid bubbled furiously. Each vat was covered with a glass dome and thin metal chimney to catch the fumes and allow it to escape away from the people in the cave.
And there were a lot of people.
Three people per vat walked up and down in lab coats, taking samples, adjusting temperatures, adding ingredients. There was a wall of computers next to the staircase, five people monitored the screens, kept an eye out for intruders, and responded to flashing lights and warning beeps.
There were more people on the floors below.
Then, there were the three in charge. The main man, a guy in his late thirties named Charles Dixon stood by one of the vats and looked in. He wasn’t exactly in line to win any ‘world’s tallest man’ awards, nor did he qualify for any weight-lifting championships. He had messy auburn hair, and was usually found in jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers. He wore safety boots and long sleeves only in the cave. He gave off a kind of ‘fun uncle’ vibe. The scariest thing about him was his piercing green eyes. He seemed to have the ability to stare right into your soul.
But anyone who got to know him knew that he wasn’t the kind of person to be underestimated.
“What’s going on here?” he asked one of the lab coat men. The vat he stood next to was a darker colour than the others, and it was thicker. The bubbles were larger, and when they popped, they splattered the dome.
The scientist glanced over the vat with a pained look on his face. “Not sure, sir. We’ve been trying to figure it out all morning. We added all the ingredients correct to the nanogram, the temperature is exactly right, we’ve been stirring it every ten minutes, the vat is sealed on all places-“
“Including the vents?” Charles asked.
“The vents?” The man walked towards the metal chimney. “The vents are-” He moved a pin on the chimney to the right. “They were closed. Our mistake.”
“Who closed them?” Charles asked.
“Um, Andy was the last stirrer, sir.”
“Andy?” Charles looked around for a man whose face he didn’t remember.
Within seconds, a tall blond man stepped forward. He moved his safety goggles to sit on top of his head, messed up his hair. The front of his coat was covered in the red liquid. Not much, but he clearly wasn’t being as careful as he should have been.
“Sir?” he asked.
“You closed the vents on vat four.”
Andy seemed surprised. He walked past Charles and checked the vents. “They’re open, sir.”
“I just opened them,” the other scientist said. “They were closed.”
“Oh.” Andy glanced at the liquid in the vat. It was ruined. “Did I do that? I’m sorry, I can… what can I do to fix it?”
“Unless you can un-cook it, it’s ruined,” Charles said. “That’s a million-dollar mistake.” He turned to the other one. “And you claim to have checked everything. You’re just as responsible.”
The two men glanced at each other. A million dollars.
“We’ll pay it back,” Andy offered.
“You can’t.”
“We’ll make a plan,” Andy nudged his supervisor. “Right?”
The other one shook his head. “If I had half a million just laying around-“
“It’s not about the money!” Charles barked. “Come here.” He walked towards the mouth of the cave, away from the noise of the vats and the stares of everyone else. He stood on the edge of the cliff and stared out at the sparkling waters ahead. “We told the Grey Masks that we’d give them one thousand vials. That vat was supposed to make up fifty. You met those guys, one thousand is one thousand, not one less. And there’s no way we’ll be able to get everything we need by the deadline. What am I going to tell them? They’ll kill us.”
Andy’s hands were shaking. “Um… We didn’t… Can’t we find a way to get more out of the other vats? Did we tell them how big the vials are?”
“You want us to cheat them?”
“Well, no, but if we don’t have a choice-“ One shove from Charles sent Andy hurtling off the cliff. He screamed for a few seconds, then it was quiet. Everyone stopped talking to stare. Only the bubbling from the vats were heard. Charles stared at the other one, what’s-his-name. And that’s when Charles’ toxic green eyes made people uneasy.
“Any other bright ideas?”
The man tapped the sides of his clipboard and took a cautious step away from the ledge. “It’s a longshot, but I do know someone, who knows someone… who knows someone… who has a connection with the Masks.”
“Really? I know one of them personally.”
“They’re family. Maybe if we explain ourselves through the grapevine, we could get away with an extra couple of weeks.”
“And what are we going to tell them? We’re stupid and don’t know how to measure things? Or someone ruined an entire vat because of absentmindedness?”
“We tell them we have a tail. Nothing more to say, really.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
He swallowed heavily. “I could… go talk to them myself?”
“Go,” Charles muttered. The man dropped his clipboard and ran towards the safety of the stairs.
The other man in charge, a tall man with black hair, pale skin, brown eyes with a red hue, and a scar over his lips stepped closer. He seemed to carry an essence of darkness wherever he went. People were afraid of just standing next to him. He always had everyone on their toes. When he told someone to jump, they didn’t ask “how high?” they just jumped as high as they could and hoped it was good enough. Very few knew his name. They called him by his last name, Silverstein.
“Seemed a little cruel.” He glanced to the bottom of the island. “You know Thaddeus lied to you? He claimed to have checked the temperature but if the vents were closed it would’ve been much too high. And, he said they’ve been trying to figure it out since this morning, but let you put all the blame on the man who stirred the vat ten minutes ago.”
“I know,” Charles said. He didn’t like being talked down to, he knew they were lying to him, he just didn’t care enough to dispute it. “If the temperature was fine, it means they drastically lowered the heat, or turned it off completely. Call the Grey Masks and tell them what happened. Let them deal with him. I know where we can get what we need on time, but it’ll set us back. I can’t think of how we’re going to afford it.”
Silverstein stared out at the ocean, an idea mulled at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t sure if it would work, or if it was worth it. “There’s a museum in your city. They have some bejewelled egg on display that’s worth well over a million. I know a guy who’s willing to buy it for two, but the museum refuses to sell it. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get his hands on it.”
“What museum?” Charles’ phone rang and cut the conversation short. He checked the caller ID with a heavy sigh. “Dallas?” he answered. There was a short pause as he listened to the voice on the other side. “We can’t be out, your mother bought milk yesterday.”
Silverstein tried not to roll his eyes. The thing about being a bad adult was having bad kids. Silverstein knew Charles’ kids were difficult, but he never actually met them. Charles liked to keep his personal and professional lives separate. But that didn’t stop the kids from calling.
“What are you even doing at home? It’s ten O’clock, why aren’t you at school?” Charles went on. “Well, I didn’t feel like coming in to work either, but I’m here… that makes no difference. Get to school, or I’m calling your grandfather… hold on, hold on.” Something occurred to Charles. “Try and get one of Carly’s hairs… yes, again… I’ll pick it up when I get to school this afternoon… you’d better be there… fine, bye.” He hung up. Then he cursed. “Hope he thinks to get milk while he’s out.”
Silverstein didn’t have an answer. His own son wasn’t as difficult. Charles just had no idea how to raise kids. Gave them too much freedom and didn’t do anything when they talked back. He said it would help them grow up to be pretty decent criminals. But Silverstein didn’t agree. Jace wouldn’t dare talk back to him, and he’d be a good criminal one day. If you wanted to do organized crime, you had to be organized. Not a demanding brat who didn’t know how to handle it when someone told him ‘no.’ If Charles’ kids ever got into trouble with other criminals, they were as good as dead.
But they never discussed those things.
“I need an answer on the museum by the end of today. I already have everything planned to go tonight."
“Been thinking about this bedazzled egg for a while now?” Charles asked.
“It’s good money. Now more than ever. I don’t know about you, but I’m too young to die.”
Charles pocketed his phone. “Right, you’re right. Where’s the museum, and what time should I meet you there?”
