A persistent humming sound can be heard along the corridors of a basement located in lower Manhattan. Following the sound leads to a bank of computers, with nearly a dozen monitors flashing indecipherable numbers, various diagnostic meters running amongst the chaos. In front of this massive data processing machine stands a short man, garbed in a dusty lab coat, a pair of wrinkled khaki slacks, worn out brown loafers, and a stained purple polo shirt. His hair is a wild black mass, with random streaks of gray. A pair of large, heavy rimmed glasses sits on a large hooked nose, a nervous grimace making his features even uglier than they would otherwise be. As he checks the readouts from the monitors, he keeps glancing over at an archway into the next room. Long, thick cables run from the computers into the next room which is completely shrouded in darkness. The walls are completely bare, and the only amenity for the technician is a single stool. A stone stairway is the only way out of this area. The only illumination is a single ceiling fixture, a pair of florescent lights affixed in the housing. The crackling from these lights add the only differentiation to the noise generated by the computers.
Suddenly, the technician hears the tapping of heels on the stone steps. He whips himself around, a look of anticipation mixed with apprehension appearing on his face. When the figure descending the stairs emerges into the light, the look on the technician’s face noticeably droops. He is not a happy man. What had initially been a feeling of hopeful excitement instead turns into a moment of utter despair. This was not the man he was hoping for. He was not to be free again this night. Instead, he had come. Whenever he showed up, it was never good news. It only meant more work, more time spent underground, more time spent away from the outside. He hated seeing this man, but he was also deathly afraid of him. He didn’t understand why, but he felt that he had to obey this man’s every whim, or he would face a fate worse than death.
As the man steps into the light, the first thing that one would notice were the finely crafted Italian leather shoes. A black sheen is reflected, despite the poor lighting. As more of the man is revealed, he is shown to be wearing an impeccably tailored black suit, conveying a sense of power. This is a man who gets what he wants, whenever he wants it, and anyone who meets him immediately knows that this man will not take no for an answer. Today, he is wearing a pure white shirt with a crimson tie, tied with a Windsor knot. A trimmed goatee and a full head of black hair, combed back, frames his chiseled features quite handsomely. When he is in full view, he addresses the technician.
“Viktor!” exclaims the man in a deep voice. “How are things going? Have we made any progress? I would hope that all the time you have spent down here has not been wasted.” Along with this statement, the man gives the technician an almost bemused look, more with a hint of sarcasm than anything. At these words, Viktor involuntarily cringes, but gathers his composure enough to respond.
“I am sorry sir, but I am not entirely sure what there is to be done,” Viktor replies with a Czech accent that has not changed much due to little contact with any English speaking people. “I have been running test after test, and cannot determine the right procedure to get the results that you want, sir. It does not seem that any modern science will help you, sir.”
The man glares at Viktor for a moment, then his features soften for a moment before his mouth settles into a smirk. “Of course not Viktor! I never expected it to. I know what has to be done, but I have been waiting for the right time. However, I thought why not give it a try? I am always interested in trying new things, Viktor. If we could have stumbled onto another solution, I would not have turned it down, but at the very least, we know of one less way that it will work.”
At this, Viktor visibly relaxes, until the man grabs him by the shoulder and brings him up next to him in a side hug, and uncomfortably strong side hug. “Of course, the time still isn’t right, so we will have many more attempts to make, won’t we Viktor?” says the man in a low voice. The little man tenses up, and trying not to look into the eyes of the imposing man, he manages to squeak out, “Of course, sir. You are indeed correct, sir.”
The man in the black suit suddenly lets go, turns around, and starts heading back up the staircase. As he is walking away, Viktor clears his throat loudly enough to catch the attention of the man in black, and timidly says, “But sir, I was hoping to ask about my replacement…”
The man turns around, and says, “Ah yes. You have been down here for quite some time, haven’t you Viktor? Hmmm… well, we will have to see what we can do about that. I guess we will have to get someone to relieve you of your station sometime this month, won’t we?”
“But sir, you said that last month, and still there has been no one…”
“Ah ah Viktor, none of that now. We will get you a replacement when the time is right.” As he says this, he closes the distance between the two men at an unnatural speed, and stopping mere inches away from the smaller man, standing face to face, he says in a voice that is simultaneously sinister and inhuman, “and I am the man who determines when the time is right.” Viktor is suddenly hit with a wave of fear and panic, and cowers back. “Yes sir…”
Standing up straight again, and returning to his normal voice, the man in black says, “Good, I am glad that we have an understanding, Viktor. I would hate to have any unpleasantness occur between us. Well then, I am on my way out. I will return for another status update at some point. Don’t let me down Viktor, I know I can count on you to come up with some novel approach.”
With that, the man walks back up the stairs, and Viktor is left standing there, looking quite miserable at the prospect of yet more time underground, alone.
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