The cameras flashed brightly, their dazzling sparkles reflected back by the pearly white teeth of Dr Reginald Lockheed. Although his skin sagged slightly with large wrinkles exposing his real age, the man radiated youth with his upbeat and slightly hyperactive demeanour. He wore a plain black suit with matching shoes along with a blood-red turtleneck which complimented his whole 'I'm-richer-than-you', egocentric persona.
"Yes, yes," he started as he calmed down the crowd of paparazzi that clamoured around him. "... An extraterrestrial meteorite DID crashland outside of Transforming Genetics Headquarters yesterday afternoon. I have taken many steps in order to safeguard, not only me and my employees at TG, but you also, the people, should feel SAFE knowing that me and my staff will contain this situation quickly AND safely. Thank you."
He ambled away from the pedestal, one hand waving at the adoring crowd and the other tightly gripping an antique cane that had elaborate, shadowy designs carved into the top. As he came off stage the reporters and cameramen swarmed Dr Lockheed but were quickly dispersed by a tall woman with a long, hooked beak that shooed them away.
"Give him some space! For God's sake, he's an ELDERLY MAN!" she yelled , speaking in a nasally voice that sounded like she had a permanent cold. She turned as she escorted Dr Lockheed through the opening of two large doors before slamming them behind her, the CLICK! of the magnificent locks activating behind them.
They had walked inside a large chamber that was filled with expensive artworks, reclinable chairs made of red velvet. The room all seemed to point towards a large desk at the back which had a large, elegant chair (more like a throne than a chair, really) and a polished mahogany table that was shaped beautifully. Dr Lockheed's lively and animated farce quickly dissolved as he slithered into his seat. pulled out some hand sanitizer and rubbed her hands together frantically before she proceeded to talk.
"Well, I've never seen members of the press be so PATHETIC before! I understand you want that you want your big scoop and all but JEEZ LOUISE, do you have to be so ANNOYING about it!" She straightened the sleeves of her grey (yes, grey) blazer and then picked off some king from her matching skirt.
Dr Lockheed sighed, as if he'd had to tell his point multiple times over in the past. "To be honest, they have a RIGHT to know what the hell's going on," he said slightly dejectedly, "If our roles were reversed right now would YOU be happy to sit still, be quiet, say nothing, even though ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING, could have crashed landed in your back garden to wreak havoc on the world?"
Rebecca Gray thought about his question and sat down to consider her next words. "Sigh. All I'm trying to say is maybe they're asking for too much; how are we supposed to understand what the hell we're dealing with when we've NEVER seen anything like it?"
Reginald Lockheed scratched the small tuft of hair on his chin as he processed this. He shrugged his shoulders melancholically as he rose from his seat then pressed a small red, button on the side. The room shuddered as an electronic voice that was neither male nor female announced, "WARNING: ROOM DESCENDING- GOING TO... LAB, LEVEL 1."
The room began to rapidly descend, causing papers on the desk to zoom upwards into what now appeared to be a long elevator shaft. Although they were both plummeting downwards rapidly, neither seemed fazed by it, Lockheed waiting patiently while Miss Gray just yawned.
- --- - -- --- --- --- -- --- --- ---- ----
"...got to fix that hyper-lift, Sir..." Rebecca said as she attempted to straighten the neat bun atop her head. "My hairdresser is starting to get suspicious whenever she sees my bun ruined- it's annoying trying to think of an excuse."
Lockheed made a noise, a strange one that could either be a momentary laugh, a disgruntled groan, or even both. He walked through the room, navigating past dozens of tables and workstations filled with unfinished designs and vials full of weirdly coloured solutions. He seemed to find the person he wanted, tapping on their back with his cane.
"What do you want..." She turned round and was so startled to see her boss that she stumbled, knocking over a set of vials that shattered when they collided with the floor. She looked down at the wreckage then back up, giving an irresistibly cute smile that made it impossible to get angry at her. She was short-ish at 5'2" but she seemed to get even shorter still as she squirmed in place.
"Sorry, Professor Lockheed... I mean, Dr Lockheed... I mean, Hi." Rachel looked down at the broken shards of glass that littered the lab floor, wishing she could go back and restart their meeting. "Umm, sorry sir, I was just a bit..."
"Surprised?"
"Yeah, surprised. You don't really come down to the lab that often and you just... caught me off guard."
"Don't worry, Miss Cartwright, I don't plan on making many more 'surprise' visits any time soon, I just wanted to see what one of my most talented scientists have to say about 'The Rock'."
"Well," she replied, "I've got..."
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