parent directory/1244/chapter 2


Chapter Two - Moving Just to Stay Still

Thursday, 10.35pm

Another dive, this time in Disgracelands, Anywhere, U.S.A.
Well, it turns out some guys do know what's goin' on... and it also turns up they don't want me to know too much. All I does is turn up this mornin' at the head of Zaibatsu Corp, the famous tower block downtown, famous as the Zaibatsu Corporation itself, and cause of much of the mystic surroundin' this master class of odd balls, and begin asking one of the donkeys on the door how I can speak to Mr. Hollow Kost or Mr.Trey Welsh, and how should appear but another of my intended interviewees, Red Valdez, storming past from his limousine sniffin' like he's got some hay fever or somethin' but it's February, and wild eyed likes he's seen a ghost, and before I can ask him about his involvement with the illegal micro-biotic simulation, and the famed anal leakage scandal, that so ruined the last visit to our pretty city by a British Royal, he's a shakin my hand, said it was all a mistake, and would I be so kind, but there's been a terrible mistake, and would I mind my re-directing my attention to a mysterious group known, somewhat unimaginatively, as the Scientists... Well what was I to? Valdez clearly knew who I was, and slipped me a 6 pack of Zoom Zoom, and would I mind leavin' the premises immediately as this mission was supposedly covert...

So, like the sucker for a smile that I am, only usually it's broads, not suntanned guys interestin' the D.E.A. and the Forbes 100, but what can I say? Anyhow, I still ain't got a proper brief, so I think I'll just have a look at the Scientists... so I type Scientist into my search engine... I must be loosin' my mind... 40,000,000 matches later, and I have a re-think. Or rather the phone rings... it's getting' dark, maybe it's some broad, I'm thinkin', but no, it's my assistant, the sturdy and solid but unimaginative member of the team who can't tell when a guy wants to slug him, or when a broad wants to make horizontal in another way... "Boss, he says, got some interestin' news, turns out this town ain't all it appears from a distance... them Zaibatsu guys are offerin' the government all manner of incentives not to investigate their imports from South America too closely... but we all knew that anyway" Did we? Smart ass. "And that the rest of the leisure industry is a carve up between two very different groups, the Scientists AKA S.A.M.E. (Scientists Against Medical Ethics), P.E.R.V. , ProJectS X, Project HATRIX, The Scientists Mental Project (The S&M Project), and a group of Hillbilly Rednecks. I've hacked into the secret files of both, and I'll sending 'em both over to you." Well, talk about using a hammer to crack an egg, the old bloke did it, did everythin' necessary to get things movin, although in no particular direction... so I'm sittin' there puttin' in the hours with the Zoom Zoom, the Single Malt and the info he sent through, when there was a knock at the door... some dame with a black eye and a sob story, I'm thinking, but no... it never is, I guess, and this time ain't no exception... it's some tough sayin' "I got a message from Valdez, he says "Look forward, never back." And, never one to be out done on the repartee, I respond with "Well, tell Valdez this, pay peanuts, and you gets monkeys" And the guy laughs, and I realise what I meant to say was "Tell Valdez, stop monkeyin' around and tell me what to do." But before I can explain myself, he says "Valdez says don't be lookin' to closely at him, or you'll get burned, look at the Big Icelandic Guy. He's the problem for us and for society, but police can't seem to land nothin' on him, despite us givin' em a load of fake evidence." Then he lands one on my face, just 'cause we're men, and otherwise people would think we was Jolly Rogers... now who is this Icelandic Guy? One of them Scientists? And then there's a knock at the door and it's three guys who all looks the same..."