ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
By Jesse Spinella
03/02/08
Prelude
The scientist walked down the hallway, his lab the only thing he had left. Divorce had taken away his children, his house, and his car. He had to take public transportation…something he didn’t relish. Passing an unmade cot nestled in a small nook he headed for the door. Pulling off his lab coat, he traded it for a normal jacket, and breezed through the doorway.
“Morning Nick!” Waved his neighbor.
The quiet commercial sector spread out along a cul-de-sac, wrapped around by heavy brick buildings. Tall, skinny trees dotted the spaces between the buildings, some soaring high above the buildings themselves. Nick ignored the greeting on his way towards the bus stop, he didn’t have time for chit chat.
The preoccupied man hustled, and soon boarded the bus just as it parked and the door opened. Taking a hand rail, he stood along the forward section, and waited with the other passengers, not eager to get to his stop. But this is something that has to be done, so I’ll do it. No matter what, I’ve got to fix the mistake I made. Not just for my family, but for mankind…
“Mr. Hand, welcome. Please, take a seat,” the classic looking butler led him through the entryway.
“Thank you,” stepping through the foyer, and into the posh waiting area of the mansion, Nick found a comfortable couch and rested his feet. It took him four busses and one cab ride to get here, he was a little worn, but calm. Nick didn’t care about the beautiful décor that surrounded him, in fact, he barely noticed it. Lost in thought, he had only one thing on his mind. As the minutes ticked by, his host finally arrived.
Dexter Bold walked down the curved staircase, his hand gliding along the maple railing. Descending the steps, he passed a wall full of pictures; various family photos of different generations of Bold’s. Well built, Dex obviously worked out every day. The sixty year old man pulled the cigar from his mouth, flicking the ashes into the well positioned ashtray at the end of the stairs.
“Mr. Hand, nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise Mr. Bold.” Standing, Nick extended his hand, the two shook.
“Such a strong grip for a scientist.” He smiled. “Excellent.”
“Yes, well, my father taught me that first impressions usually make or break a healthy relationship.”
Bold nodded, smoke rose lazily from the cigar tucked between his lips, and took a seat, “true, very true. Now, what more can I do for you sir? I trust the check found on your door step was put to good use?”
Nick followed Dexter, and sat along with him, “Of course sir, very good use. In fact, I wanted to thank you, in person. That’s part of why I came by. With your generous donation, I’ve been able to complete several more inventions and submit them to various firms and manufacturers for consideration.”
“Good, good. And the other reason for your stopping by?”
Nick cleared his throat. He hated asking for anything, let alone money, or favors. The last check he received was more than enough to get the ball rolling on his inventions. But something had happened in the course of events to require additional support from his last minute benefactor, “sir, as you know, I’ve gone through a divorce that’s left me financially ruined, and I need…” he hesitated.
Dexter leaned forward, “you need, what, Mr. Hand?”
“I’d like to ask you for more money, but I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
Dexter nodded, “I appreciate your situation. The first check was a gift for one of the brightest minds of our century. I had an extra fifty thousand dollars lying around, and my accountants said I should donate it to charity before I was taxed on it. But now you realize, this is a completely different situation.”
Nick nodded, fully aware of the reprisals, “sir, I understand; and I’d be able to pay it back…but not until my last inventions are picked up.”
“Of which I have no doubt they will,” he paused in thought. “You will become an investment of mine. A businessman is always in the need for a scientist and an inventor. If I give you the money, this will put you on as a salaried agent, do you understand?”
“Sort of, sir?”
Mr. Bold stood, and paced around the room, clutching his cigar in his left hand, “if you agree to my terms, you will do as I see fit. Eighty percent of the time, you will be able to do your own research, fulfill your own goals. But, for the last twenty, you will do as I say, when I say, and produce items on time.”
Hand nodded, not sure of where this was going.
“You have a singular mind, doctor. One of which is very highly sought by the government. That is why I originally gave you the donation. Now however, you will be under my rule. I am a lenient man. I don’t micromanage, but when I do ask for something, I ask that its done right, and done on time. And… I want to know your secrets.”
“My…secrets?”
“Oh yes. I know you are full of them, Mr. Hand. I did great research on you. As far as TriCorp is concerned, your ideas come from your open-mindedness; but I know that not to be true. Tell me sir, where did this come from?” Mr. Bold put his hand into his suit pocket, and produced a Polaroid. On the photo was an image of the cover of a book, ‘So You Want To Build A Civilization?’ “I’ve checked, there is no such book in print, and no company called New World Publications.”
Nick gulped hard, his Adam’s apple visibly dropping in his throat, “Sir, how did you…”
Dexter waved his hand, and grew serious, a deathly tone in his voice, “I’m asking the questions, Mr. Hand. I want an answer.”
Nick slumped backwards into his seat, and felt the first bead of sweat all day trickle down his neck, “what I’m about to tell you is, well, unbelievable. You may not believe a word of it, but, you’ll have to – for it’s the truth, and the only way I know how to tell the story.”
Dex paused and faced the scientist, “I see.”
“You may want to be seated, it’s a long tale.”
With interest, Dexter sat across from Nick, and leaned forward, eager to hear the curious tale of the book: So You Want To Build A Civilization…
1
03/02/08
Prelude
The scientist walked down the hallway, his lab the only thing he had left. Divorce had taken away his children, his house, and his car. He had to take public transportation…something he didn’t relish. Passing an unmade cot nestled in a small nook he headed for the door. Pulling off his lab coat, he traded it for a normal jacket, and breezed through the doorway.
“Morning Nick!” Waved his neighbor.
The quiet commercial sector spread out along a cul-de-sac, wrapped around by heavy brick buildings. Tall, skinny trees dotted the spaces between the buildings, some soaring high above the buildings themselves. Nick ignored the greeting on his way towards the bus stop, he didn’t have time for chit chat.
The preoccupied man hustled, and soon boarded the bus just as it parked and the door opened. Taking a hand rail, he stood along the forward section, and waited with the other passengers, not eager to get to his stop. But this is something that has to be done, so I’ll do it. No matter what, I’ve got to fix the mistake I made. Not just for my family, but for mankind…
“Mr. Hand, welcome. Please, take a seat,” the classic looking butler led him through the entryway.
“Thank you,” stepping through the foyer, and into the posh waiting area of the mansion, Nick found a comfortable couch and rested his feet. It took him four busses and one cab ride to get here, he was a little worn, but calm. Nick didn’t care about the beautiful décor that surrounded him, in fact, he barely noticed it. Lost in thought, he had only one thing on his mind. As the minutes ticked by, his host finally arrived.
Dexter Bold walked down the curved staircase, his hand gliding along the maple railing. Descending the steps, he passed a wall full of pictures; various family photos of different generations of Bold’s. Well built, Dex obviously worked out every day. The sixty year old man pulled the cigar from his mouth, flicking the ashes into the well positioned ashtray at the end of the stairs.
“Mr. Hand, nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise Mr. Bold.” Standing, Nick extended his hand, the two shook.
“Such a strong grip for a scientist.” He smiled. “Excellent.”
“Yes, well, my father taught me that first impressions usually make or break a healthy relationship.”
Bold nodded, smoke rose lazily from the cigar tucked between his lips, and took a seat, “true, very true. Now, what more can I do for you sir? I trust the check found on your door step was put to good use?”
Nick followed Dexter, and sat along with him, “Of course sir, very good use. In fact, I wanted to thank you, in person. That’s part of why I came by. With your generous donation, I’ve been able to complete several more inventions and submit them to various firms and manufacturers for consideration.”
“Good, good. And the other reason for your stopping by?”
Nick cleared his throat. He hated asking for anything, let alone money, or favors. The last check he received was more than enough to get the ball rolling on his inventions. But something had happened in the course of events to require additional support from his last minute benefactor, “sir, as you know, I’ve gone through a divorce that’s left me financially ruined, and I need…” he hesitated.
Dexter leaned forward, “you need, what, Mr. Hand?”
“I’d like to ask you for more money, but I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
Dexter nodded, “I appreciate your situation. The first check was a gift for one of the brightest minds of our century. I had an extra fifty thousand dollars lying around, and my accountants said I should donate it to charity before I was taxed on it. But now you realize, this is a completely different situation.”
Nick nodded, fully aware of the reprisals, “sir, I understand; and I’d be able to pay it back…but not until my last inventions are picked up.”
“Of which I have no doubt they will,” he paused in thought. “You will become an investment of mine. A businessman is always in the need for a scientist and an inventor. If I give you the money, this will put you on as a salaried agent, do you understand?”
“Sort of, sir?”
Mr. Bold stood, and paced around the room, clutching his cigar in his left hand, “if you agree to my terms, you will do as I see fit. Eighty percent of the time, you will be able to do your own research, fulfill your own goals. But, for the last twenty, you will do as I say, when I say, and produce items on time.”
Hand nodded, not sure of where this was going.
“You have a singular mind, doctor. One of which is very highly sought by the government. That is why I originally gave you the donation. Now however, you will be under my rule. I am a lenient man. I don’t micromanage, but when I do ask for something, I ask that its done right, and done on time. And… I want to know your secrets.”
“My…secrets?”
“Oh yes. I know you are full of them, Mr. Hand. I did great research on you. As far as TriCorp is concerned, your ideas come from your open-mindedness; but I know that not to be true. Tell me sir, where did this come from?” Mr. Bold put his hand into his suit pocket, and produced a Polaroid. On the photo was an image of the cover of a book, ‘So You Want To Build A Civilization?’ “I’ve checked, there is no such book in print, and no company called New World Publications.”
Nick gulped hard, his Adam’s apple visibly dropping in his throat, “Sir, how did you…”
Dexter waved his hand, and grew serious, a deathly tone in his voice, “I’m asking the questions, Mr. Hand. I want an answer.”
Nick slumped backwards into his seat, and felt the first bead of sweat all day trickle down his neck, “what I’m about to tell you is, well, unbelievable. You may not believe a word of it, but, you’ll have to – for it’s the truth, and the only way I know how to tell the story.”
Dex paused and faced the scientist, “I see.”
“You may want to be seated, it’s a long tale.”
With interest, Dexter sat across from Nick, and leaned forward, eager to hear the curious tale of the book: So You Want To Build A Civilization…
1
Updated for use in my upcoming book Stone Showers.
© 2008 - 2024 lappy486
Comments2
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Huh! I'm intrigued. 