Participants:
| Scene Title | It's Happening Again |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The resurrection is at hand. |
| Date | October 22, 2018 |
A howling wind whips across a vast stretch of moonlit desert. A carpet of stars is scattered in that hanging darkness, glittering like diamonds in the nearly full moon's halo. A swath of light streaked across the sky is the sole splash of color in an otherwise monochromatic field of white on black; a shimmering curtain of emerald green, violet, and pale pink. The aurora reflects mutedly off of the windshield of a black SUV, coming to a rolling stop in the trackless, flat desert. As the engine cuts off, the headlights go dark leaving only pale moonlight to see by. A pair of glossy, black dress shoes move one by one out from an open door as the vehicle's driver steps out and looks up at the moon, crossed by that shimmering curtain.
Gold eyes regard the moon with remarkably clarity.
The SUV's driver leaves the door hanging wide open, marching ahead of the vehicle and up a gradually sloped embankment of loose earth and brown scrub vegetation. Each step comes with a labored breath, visible as a puff of steam from weathered lips. The chill desert air bites at the driver's lungs, and when he reaches the crest of the hill and looks out over the ancient impact crater driven into the ground, bathed in iridescent green light, he exhales an uncontrollably exuberant bubble of laughter. Reaching up with one aged hand to rake through his chalk white hair, his wide, toothy smile is nearly manic in its shift from impassive placidity. Down in that ancient crater, a concrete and steel facility rests in absolute silence, save for the skyward-angled satellite disk cresting the edge of the impact rim and pointing up toward the heart of the aurora overhead.
A vibrant, green spiral.
"Finally," he exhales, tears welling in his eyes.
Six thousand miles away
The Yamagato Building
NYC Safe Zone
October 22
12:17 pm
"I appreciate the offer, but Yamagato Industries isn't interested at this time."
Cell phone pressed to one ear, Kam Nisatta briskly slips through the double doors to her temporary office, heels clicking on the polished black marble floor. As she strides through the bright columns of daylight spilling through a wall of windows, she comes to the corner of her glossy, black desk and closes her eyes, mustering the patience to deal with the man on the other end of the phone. "But I assure you, should we be interested in making any future business partnerships you will be the first to know." Waiting for the man on the other end to say his peace, Kam is eager to end the conversation. "Thank you as well, and have a wonderful day." Kam ends the call with as aggressive a thumb-press as she can muster, longing for the days of physical phones that she could angrily slam down. Presumably, though, this was better decorum.
Settling the phone on the corner of her desk, Kam comes to sit down in her high-backed leather chair. The supple fabric creaks with her weight, the back tilting with her slouched posture ever so subtly. As she reaches up to pinch two fingers at the bridge of her nose, she allows herself a moment of silent reflection. Behind her, the sun burns brightly in a cloudless sky, and traffic cuts through Yamagato Park. In a way, her office has become both a refuge and a prison. She was never meant to have this responsibility, or this role. Or perhaps, she wonders to herself, was this part of the plan all along?
Waving a hand over the top of her desk, Kam wakes it up from sleep mode. Her bracelet pairs with the device, a biometric scanner in her chair confirms its her, and her recent programs boot up one by one. Analyst reports, an email from Taiki about personnel, status reports of the labor drones working in the Safe Zone, a handful of emails from R&D. Closing her eyes again, Kam swipes across them, minimizing each application into a tiny glowing icon in the black glass of the desk. She had other, unfortunate business to attend to.
"Call Private-1," Kam says aloud to the room and a red icon appears on the desk that reads [PRIVATE MODE]. Then, Kam keys in a phone number from memory. After a few long moments, a voice picks up on the other end of the line.
"Good afternoon," the deep and rich voice croons on the other side. Kam closes his eyes and furrows her brows tightly together.
"Good afternoon…" Kam replies with tension in her voice, "Mister Kellar."
Six thousand miles away
Tabun Khara Obo Crater
Sainshand, Mongolia
October 23
12:21 am
Claudius Kellar stands triumphantly on the ridge of an impact crater, overlooking a research station nestled in its depth
Standing on the ridge overlooking the crater research facility, Kellar cradles the cell phone at his ear and pivots to put his back to the structure, overlooking the great span of desert beyond. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd lost your nerve, what with everything that happened to Mr. Agami. Horrible, that," he says with a toothy grin, "you have my sincerest condolences. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call, Ms. Nisatta? Did you read the weather reports for today?" He raises a brow, nearly tittering with manic laughter.
«I called to inform you that Kimiko Nakamura is up to something.» Kam's voice coming through the phone has Kellar tilting his head to the side, eyes up at the aurora. «The JSDF has sent Asi Tetsuyama to America. I thought your people were going to delay her indefinitely?»
Kellar draws in a sharp breath and then waves one hand dismissively at the air. "I'm sorry, we did everything we could. But I think it's ultimately an inconsequential matter at this point. I asked you earlier, did you read the weather reports?"
«Kellar I have eighty seconds left, I don't have time to— »
A pulse of light throbs upward from the facility, striking the aurora and sending a rippling wave of energetic particles into the night air. The aurora surges, brighter than before, rays of the curtain shining downward at 45 degree angles out from a central point in space. Kellar shakes his head, and hears nothing but static on the other end of the call. "You should have," he mumbles, gently touching the end call button with a brush of his thumb. Kellar's gold eyes reflect the greenish hue of the aurora, and his jaw trembles as tears roll down his cheeks.
"It's beautiful."
Six thousand miles away
The Yamagato Building
NYC Safe Zone
October 22
12:17 pm
"Claudius?" Kam says to the air, and a light on the desk spreads into the words [CALL ENDED]. Kam curls up one hand into a fist and slams it onto the top of the desk, running a hand through her hair and looking out the window to the sun. Her shoulders stiffen, back straightens, and she dismisses the private mode and keys in a local extension by memory. There is but one ring before someone picks up on the other end. Kam doesn't even so much as wait for a greeting before stepping into the conversation.
"Ms. Damaris," Kam says firmly, "clear your schedule."