Participants:
| Scene Title | The Margins |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Under burden to prepare a continuity of species project for the US Government, Marlowe Terrell struggles with pressure from her superiors to turn her research into something she never intended… |
| Date | June 27, 2021 |
A three-dimensional projection of a miles-long island hovers over a glass-topped desk.
The way Marlowe Terrell’s face is illuminated by the projection makes her look ghostly. Her hands seem disembodied against dark sleeves as she rotates the image, pinches and zooms in on a construction site at the heart of the island. With a gesture she populates text tags for the locations, and an arrow points at a massive dig site at the center of the construction.
PROJECT AGARTHA
THE CROWN
It’s the numbers at the bottom that worry her the most.
Project Completion: 04%
Marlowe sinks down onto her elbows and places her head in her hands, fingers winding into her hair.
Three Months Earlier
The Yamagato Building
Chief Terrell’s Office
Yamagato Park
March 3rd
9:22 am
The soft whirring of cybernetic legs gently impacting the white flooring of the Yamagato building echoes off the glass walls in such a way that even the intrusiveness of said gait is acoustically altered in a way to seem pleasant and belonging. Hachiro Otomo moves with a swift pace that is feigning casual urgency. His posture straight like a soldier at marching grounds, but he can’t help the sidelong glance out of soaring glass windows at the beautiful greenery that brings life and proven biological mood lifters to the environs. He can’t help but remember how all of this made him feel, once. Long ago.
Shaking off that disillusionment, Hachiro confidently strides to the office belonging to the Chief of Technology for Yamagato Industries, one Ms. Marlowe Terrell. A growing nervousness is squelched in favor of remembering procedures, expected behaviors under the watchful eye of surveillance cameras. This is a new order with new leaders. Hachiro knocks on the door that once led to his office.
«Good morning, Hachiro!» Jiba chirps after the knock. The glass door slides open smoothly into the spacious office, with its gently curving white ceiling inset with lights that create illumination that emulates the way sunlight filters through skylights, rather than artificial overhead starkness. Marlowe Terrell sits at her curving, glass desk, and from where Hachiro stands it truly looks like she belongs there.
Hachiro smiles on entering, the glass doors sliding shut at his back. “Marlowe,” he says casually. “I hope you put a pot of coffee on, it’s been a long morning already.” His expression hides a hint of nervousness.
«Ambient noise occlusion is activated, Hachiro. Privacy mode activated.»
At the response that emanates from all around the room, Hachiro’s expression sags and his cheerful demeanor evaporates. “They fired Eizen this morning.”
From her spot at the desk that once belonged to the man standing before her, Marlowe looks up with a warm smile for her visiting mentor figure. It's a smile that falters slightly at the remark about the coffee, and the meaning behind Hachiro's greeting that activates their privacy mode. "Always," she says to the pot of coffee, standing from the desk. "And I could already do with a refill." A short swiping gesture on her tablet minimizes what departmental report she had been occupied with and she stands from the desk with all intention of getting both of them drinks.
The news about Eizen hits hard. Marlowe's inward gasp might as well have been in reaction to news of another death. Hands plant on the glass topped desk as her eyes drop to the faint reflection of herself in it, then close. When they open again to look back to Hachiro, the shine of withheld tears still threatens. "Kawahara's acting fast to plant his roots," she says, her head shaking in overall disappointment and worry.
Marlowe straightens again, composing herself with a smoothing of her suit jacket's lapels. She's been dressing a touch more conservatively in the office ever since Hayate's ascension. But only just. She strides over to the in-wall coffee machine, a trusty fixture since the first time she set foot within its walls, and touches a few lights to activate custom set pours. "Did Eizen say anything to you?" she asks softly, holding out Hachiro's mug in offering.
“He didn’t have a chance,” Hachiro says, unable to meet Marlowe’s eyes. “He was swept out of the building before I’d even come in this morning. I found out when someone else in security let me know what happened. It hasn’t even been officially announced yet.”
Walking over to the coffee maker, Hachiro seems only partly invested in the caffeine. The news of the day has distracted him, but he’s trying to distract himself with a slice of normalcy. “Asking around it sounds like the blame for Kay’s disappearance was left squarely on his shoulders.” He says, fidgeting with one of the ceramic mugs nearby.
“The folks in security have already been given their marching orders…” Hachiro continues, pouring coffee into a Deep Space 9 mug with a smiling Ferengi on it. “JSDF Civil Security Section 9 are deployingthe Mugai-Ryu to Yamagato Park. Asi’s old unit.” He looks up from the mug to Marlowe, brows raised.
Shaking her head slowly, Marlowe turns the sudden intensity of her worry onto the other serving of coffee she watches brew into a mug branded with an expanded detailed schematic of a lightsaber. "That's not good," she assesses quietly under the whirring stir of the coffee. Her tastes haven't changed from the original settings. "The changing of the guard means we need to be more on guard. Desu kedo…"
She turns back to Hachiro, a worried look echoed over the edge of her mug as Marlowe sips her drink in hopes the warmth will counteract the foreboding chill that she feels at her core. "I know the teams are worried enough they will keep their heads down and focus on work." Although her tone weighs heavy with the idea that they should do the same, she's far from the type to do simply that. Her work history alone suggests a more free-spirited approach to anticipating and solving problems before they even arise. Such is the engineering ethos. "What do you think we could expect from Kawahara?"
Hachiro stares down into his coffee, watching his indistinct, rippling reflection on the surface. He sighs, then looks up at Marlowe with a shake of his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. “And that’s what scares me the most.”
Three Months Later
The Yamagato Building
Engineering R&D
Yamagato Park
June 27th
6:12 pm
The door to Engineering Lab A opens with a low whirr, revealing Hachiro’s backlit silhouette. He carries a single mug of coffee in one hand and bears the same grim expression on his face that Marlowe had seen months prior.
“I hate the way this is all playing out,” Hachiro says with a shake of his head. “We needed Leroy here to work on Agartha, not—off in Tokyo. Kawahara reassigning him to that telecom project… he doesn’t really understand how serious all this is. He’s hedging his bets assuming this will all just blow over and he’ll be able to make a killing on restructuring Japan’s telecom grid after a solar flare melts the remaining copper wiring. As if we won’t all be cooked with it.”
Hachiro stops halfway to where Marlowe is and lets his shoulders sag. “I’m becoming my father.” He mumbles with a nervous laugh. “Entering a room and just—complaining.”
"My father got his hands on some old US TV programming when I was young. Oscar the Grouch was my favorite Sesame Street character. I think it was always because even though he complained all the time, he had his way of showing he cared. And, I wondered what the rest of him looked like inside the trash can. Maybe the whole sewer system was his personal mansion." Marlowe takes a short sip of her own coffee as Hachiro enters the workshop. Her practically trademarked red spangled tablet clutched to her chest is set down on the glass topped desk. "What I mean is, complaining is a smokescreen. And only those willing to see beyond it will find the truth. So, I know what you mean, Otomo the Grouch." Her smile for her mentor is genuine albeit a tired one.
The expression is short lived on her face as she turns back to the three-dimensional diagram of architectural plans for Project Agartha and transfers the image from the smaller projected model to a blown up display for them both to see in the photoactive particles. "It's been challenging without Leroy, but, well, I'm not going to be the one to tell the others that they're the contingency."
Even though, Marlowe silently notes as she frowns up at the diagram, that is actually her job as the department director.
"What are the chances that all of this would be able to simply blow over?" Her rhetorical question carries the truth of her deeper desire, especially when she turns to the display of a population limit number glowing at the corner of the diagram hovering over the Project Completion bar.
POP. LIMIT: 20000
Project Completion: 04%
“Very little ever blows over,” Hachiro says with his attention fixed on those same numbers. “Very little except wind across graves.” Realizing how bleak that sounds, Hachiro closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a lot lately. All of this. Everything.” He doesn’t need to say Kimiko for Marlowe to know it’s about Kimiko.
“You mentioning the sewer system does bring something to mind, though.” Hachiro says with a gesture toward the hologram. “Jiba, bring up the plans for the SEA-TAC Safe Zone.”
«Right away, Hachiro.»
A projection of Vashon Island manifests in the air near Hachiro with fine laser scan lines tracing back to the emitters in the corners of the room. Hachiro gestures within the three-dimensional model and sweeps one hand to the side, stripping away the details except for topography and water level.
“At first I was concerned about Vashon. It’s never been built upon like this, has a low elevation and a high water table. The SEA-TAC Safe Zone wasn’t going to be skyscrapers like New York, it was going to be low, rambling, eco-friendly buildings.” Hachiro explains, zooming in on the basement structures. “Where we’re digging, here?” He circles an area with one finger. “We have to move down below the bedrock, but it will leave a highly salinated water table above us, and an aquifer below us.”
Hachiro looks through the hologram to Marlowe. “Gamma radiation loses roughly fifty percent of its energy after passing through fifteen centimeters of water. If we play this smart and incorporate the water from around Vashon Island above the aquifer into the design, we should be able to cut back on shielding that would otherwise block radio signals. This may allow us to maintain some level of communication with the outside world… whether it be other survivors, or teams we send to the surface.”
Spinning the model around, Hachiro points to an area below the aquifer. “We’ll also be able to tap into the same geothermal lines that the Safe Zone was intended to. We might be building over a volcanic hot spot, but all that energy will keep us sustainable. And if…” He forces a smile. “If this all blows over, we’ll still have built one of the largest geothermal plants in the world.”
Marlowe lifts a hand to her cover her mouth as she fights off the overwhelming wave of despair coming from Hachiro's statement. Thankfully, the urge to exhaustion cry is a short one, passing with a soft sniffle and a focus on the present challenge. "This assumes a lot of stability in the given and possible unseen variables of local geography at and beyond zero hour," she counters with concerns. "Not that we have much choice in eco-friendly energy sources that don't involve being burned or melted off the face of the earth."
Now who's the bleak one?
"But," Marlowe continues as she looks at the water table diagrams and considers what's been said on the matter of radio signals, shielding, and outside communication, "if it blows over. If we can manage it… we'll have a way to sustain the survivors far into a future with a possibility of retaining, regaining, and rebuilding further existing infrastructure. Water below, mountain above. Now a mountain below, and water above. Everything is topsy turvy."
With a reach up of her hand, she sweeps an overlay of proposed architectural concept diagrams on to the topographical map, making a couple adjustments to the base set of rings forming multipurpose structures. Marlowe stills, a dissatisfied look of worry starting to work its way back and overlay on her expression. "Sensei," she says quietly, "we can't manage this on our own." The woman trails as her hand drags a cross section of a deeper server structures, fingers spreading to zoom in on a red-encircled kanji hiding more than simple characters: 君
Hachiro’s eyes follow the symbols. Understanding accompanies a growing furrow of his brows, but also a nod of understanding. “We’ll need all the help we can get,” he agrees in the vaguest of terms. “But we should do everything in our power to protect our families, yes.” Perhaps less coded, but deeply from the heart. Even if Kimiko isn’t his blood, she’s his family in life and in death.
“Should the unthinkable happen,” Hachiro says, looking at the schematic, “we should make certain we have room for a maintenance and development facility for the tetsujin. Second or third generation drones could help us explore the surface, if nothing else than to set up solar panels. I doubt anything we set up in advance would survive the flare, but construction after the fact…” He bobs his head from side to side. “We could rely on machines to be our bodies in that environment.”
Marlowe's gaze dips towards the floor as unsettling, uncomfortable thoughts bring a storm of troubled expression and threaten a fresh rain of tears. She blinks the sting away. "Yes of course. But importantly, should the unthinkable happen," she says lifting her gaze again, "we will need to ensure the tetsujin are secure from… corruption of purpose." She feels a chill crawl up her spine, remembering the repurposed Tetsujin that had guarded Kimiko's body in the morgue.
Her eyes flick back to the characters. "Maybe that's too paranoid? Making more work for ourselves than what we've already got pressing. Times like this, I miss Eizen." Bringing up the name of the exiled former head of security churns something up within Marlowe. The woman moves closer to Hachiro's side, hands cupped around her coffee mug but suddenly not feeling any of the warmth from the heated ceramic. "More than that," she says with a worried, lingering sidelong look to the older man, turning to face him fully, "I have a confession to make."
Before Marlowe loses her nerve, she continues, "Director Wenyi knows what happened with Kimiko's body. She took me to Level S where the body is stored, and I… in exchange for her dropping the investigation and forging the autopsy report to cover the damage to the skull, the brain. She knows. She knows because I told her it was you." Confession dropped, so does her head and torso into a deep bow of apology. "I'm sorry, Hachiro. I'm so sorry."
Hachiro’s eyes slowly widen, and when he looks up from the hologram to Marlowe there is an expression in them she has never seen before. It is not anger, and not quite fear but something closely related to it. He says nothing as he lets his gaze slip from her, and Marlowe can see Hachiro’s shoulders sag as he raises a hand to his mouth. He scrubs across his lips and drags that hand down his neck.
He is at a loss for words.
Three Months Earlier
The Yamagato Building
Executive Suite
Yamagato Park
March 5th
4:12 pm
It had been two days since Eizen was fired. Just under two months since Kimiko died and was reborn. Somewhere between those two cruel milestones, Yamagato Industries changed around Marlowe like the backdrop of a theatrical play, set pieces pushed around on wheels and rearranged into something she struggled to recognize.
“Mr. Kawahara will see you now.”
Now it’s quarter past four on a Friday afternoon, and Marlowe is finally getting her first face-to-face with the new CEO. She’s been in this threshold before, the corporate liminal space of the black-marble floored executive level. She’s walked into Kimiko’s office dozens of times, but now it’s not Kimiko’s office.
Now a taciturn Japanese man with steel gray hair in excruciatingly traditional attire sits expectantly where Kimiko once did. Kawahara is lit almost exclusively by the pale gray light of a cloudy afternoon coming in through the enormous window at his back. The lights of his office are turned down low and the sconces do little more than highlight the walls.
“«Please, sit.»” Hayate says as Marlowe enters, motioning to the seat across from a desk that once belonged to Kimiko.
Barely a sidelong glance given in place of what should have been warm thanks. Marlowe shifts her outward demeanor as she crosses the threshold into the familiar space of the CEO's office that no longer feels right. Her heels click against the flooring, each step echoing hollowly in the large room. It was designed that way, surely, to make it harder to sneak around in. Not that she's trying, with her decidedly typically Western styled professional attire and pinpoints of metallic accessories that seem to find what light the room provides and turn it into starry sparkle in the galaxy of black marble.
Her path takes her behind the opposite chair, pausing for a second before complying with his invitation to sit. Feeling exposed in the umbral space between her and the older man, she fights off a hardening pit in her stomach, finally rounding the chair and easing into it. "«Allow me to thank you for taking the time to have a discussion with me, Mr. President,»" she begins, the keigo honorifics placed carefully and clearly establishing the obvious power structure between them.
Hayate dismisses the thanks with a subtle wave of one hand. His expression never changes from its dour countenance. “«Your work record…»” he says, gesturing over his desk and summoning unredacted performance reviews into the air with text large enough to read even where Marlowe is sitting. “«…it is exemplary.»”
Hayate gestures to his right and the records sweep through the air and form into neat rows of hovering documents. “«Hachiro Otomo speaks highly of your skills in these reports. Speaks highly of your ability.»”
But there’s a pause between thoughts, a heavy silence that leaves praise feeling like impending condemnation. It’s neither, though. It’s a prelude to something much worse.
“«Your efforts are wasted here. The projects you have been placed on do not capitalize on the skills your more personal projects have highlighted.»”” Hayate says, bringing up schematics of the AH/UN drones. “«These are very compelling designs.»”
Marlowe slowly crosses one leg over the other as she watches her employment records - in a way, the better part of her life's work - appear in the air between them. Eyes lift to skim the text and images of project reports and diagrams that at once stir several feelings within. Pride for what she's accomplished. Trepidation for the consequences. She doesn't respond to the praise at first, but the mention about Hachiro's commendation piques her interest.
"«Waste is a bad word.»" Marlowe counters, her fingers interweaving at the tips of her manicured nails in her lap. She soothes the roughness of her verbal jut with a followup. "«In the motivations of the department, and indeed, the company as a whole. No efforts should be considered wasted, but a side step on a different, persevering path to success, expected or unexpected. I'm fortunate to have had a diverse swath of opportunities and challenges of several levels presented to me, here at Yamagato.»"
She looks from the man across the glass up to the drone diagrams hovering, hit with a soft pang of nostalgia for them, for simpler days. Bolder days, even, less constricted by board meetings and management, and more hand-on work. Her ability helps in that preference in methodology. "«Those designs serve best in their versatility,»" she remarks thoughtfully, "«Though it does take a creative mind to see past the obvious uses. To imagine… and then do.»"
Hayate’s response in a non-verbal grunt. He waves his hand and dismisses the images, then folds them in front of himself. “«I will be plain with you, Ms. Terrell. Your department has been focused on initiatives that have negatively impacted Yamagato Industries’ bottom line. We, as a company, are struggling to maintain the demands of a global enterprise. Changes are in order.»”
Sitting back in his chair, Hayate fixes Marlowe with a steely look. “«We are in a unique position, here, in the United States. Or should I say, outside the United States. Our footprint of independent sovereignty here in the Safe Zone provides us with a latitude other corporations within the country do not have.>””
Already, there was a sense of dread creeping in to this conversation.
“«Are you familiar with Mr. Cedric Hesser?»” Hayate asks, raising one gray brow.
Marlowe purses her lips together to bite back an immediate rebuttal to the talk of bottom lines and impacts made. She maintains composure even under the cold stare of the CEO. "«Latitude that we shouldn't take for granted. Nor liberties with,»" slips the woman in a conserving volume. The question about Hesser, though, throws her slightly off balance. "«Hesser? Outside of his appointment to Secretary of the Interior and reports from Legal's liaisons with that office, and some agreeable points during his presidential debate and others not so much… No, sir. I've not had the opportunity to make myself so.»" Busy with affecting the company's bottom line, it seems. Marlowe straightens in her seat, schooling her expression to a neutral and a touch curious one.
“«Secretary Hesser is a practical man, uncomplicated by the moralizing of his peers. He is a man of vision, and a man of considerable financial influence. He also ran a campaign on the necessity of mobile autonomous weapon platforms to secure the United States.»” As those words leave Hayate’s mouth, the scope of this conversation comes into harrowing focus.
“«It also so happens that the Secretary has a controlling interest in several companies interested in pursuing further legislation regarding the legalization of autonomous security.»” Hayate motions into the air, bringing back the schematics of the AH/UN drones as well as the Tetsujin labor robots. “«After speaking with Secretary Hesser, I am confident that this legislation will be passed in due time. As such, I want Yamagato Industries to be on the leading edge offering these militarized defense options to the United States, and lead by example in deploying them across Yamagato Park in the time leading up to this proposal becoming reality.»”
Hayate moves the schematic images aside. “«As such, I am reallocating your annual budget. Your department’s financially insolvent research and development projects are hereby canceled, and their funding will be diverted to the development of a new generation of Tetsujin and AH/UN drones with full military operational capabilities.>”
Once she realizes Hayate's true spoken intent, Marlowe sucks in a gasp as if stung. Her eyes widen in horrific realization, each word sending up fields of red flags. Autonomous security. Defense options. Cancelled projects. Diverted funding. Military operational capabilities.
"«Sir, the United States only just finished with a war against these types of machines,»" Marlowe manages around the tightness in her throat and sped up heartbeat. "«And they dismantled Praxis Heavy Industries the moment PHI tried to pull a second Pearl Harbor on them. What makes you so sure Secretary Hesser isn't only chumming the water to see which fish comes next for the bait?»" Her stare fixes on the Yamagato president caught somewhere between protest and caution, even when she realizes it's like fighting a tsunami with a fishing boat. She can only hope there's enough to push her to the crest without crashing.
Hayate does not respond for what seems like an eternity. His lips downturn into a frown and his stare locks on Marlowe like the baleful glare of a disapproving parent. “«If I wanted your assessment of the situation, I would ask you for it. I do not, and I have not. If you speak out of line again, there are a dozen other members of Yamagato Industries waiting to take your title.»”
The threat Hayate makes is not an idle one, and the risk that comes with it is little more than the continuity of the human race. If Marlowe isn’t in charge of Agartha, someone Hayate hand-picks would be.
“«Do I make myself clear?»” Hayate asks, but it isn’t a question. It’s a test.
The ever stretching silence feels like a widening abyss between Marlowe and her sense of any foundations she had hoped laid between the current president and her own vision. But all she can do at first is stare back at the older man, watching the bridge of cooperation and future prospects tumble away as to become truly invisible and without hope of retrieval. Her grasp on hope itself feels like it slips from the emotional clasp.
The woman sucks in a breath, mustering a faint, mirthless smile. Marlowe slowly stands from her seat, her movemnt smooth as one of the greased robot arms down in her workshop. She bows her head, eyes lowered. "«As the crystalline waters of Lake Mashu, Mr. President,»" answers Marlowe, seeming quiet and subdued.
Inside, her mind and heart are churning.
Three Months Later
The Yamagato Building
Engineering R&D
Yamagato Park
June 27th
6:23 pm
Hachiro has been silent for a long time, staring off at a distant point in space. It feels like his world is slowly unraveling. His secret is getting harder and harder to keep. Kimiko, his daughter, everything.
“We need to prepare a contingency,” Hachiro finally says. Though his focus does not move from that distant point in space at first. He blinks a slow look over at Marlowe, staring at her with the most serious expression she has ever seen on his face. “If Yamagato—if all of this…” he looks at the holographic projection of Agartha, “is ever going to fall into the wrong hands.”
Hachiro breathes in through his nose, then exhales sharply. “We have to be prepared.” He says, voice trembling.
“Prepared to burn it all to the ground.”