by Chewy Walrus
EPS headquarters, Chicago:
The form of a man floated face down in the EPS headquarters swimming pool. He had been there, just floating, for a number of minutes -- hours, perhaps -- without moving or even so much as twitching. He just floated.
To the casual bystander, the man would appear to be dead, possibly due to the hastily wrapped wound on his leg, which had now colored the entire pool a murky, reddish hue. However, to a man like Dr. Charles Elias Walker, this man had never been more alive.
Bubbles, Walker had noted with some bemusement. Coming out of his chest... this man must have gills...
Walker smiled, anxious to test his theory. Walking over to a small metal box by one of the poolside walls, Walker flipped the box open, pressing a button inside marked DRAIN and casually waited as the water level of the pool began to drop slowly but steadily.
As if by some magical cue, a head shot up from the water. It was a man, all right. He had a very slender face with a small, dark wisp of hair growing on his upper lip. Makes him look like a used car salesman, Walker noted.
"ARE YOU CRAZY?" the man yelled, cupping his hands around two spots directly below his collar bone. "You can't do this to me! I have rights! I have feelings! Do you have any idea what I've been through tonight? DO YOU EVEN CARE?"
"Who are you?" Walker said, kneeling poolside, peering down at the slowly descending face of the snarky man.
"Mort!" the man cried, helpless. "Mort Milton! Look, man, I don't have much... but, listen, if you promise not to kill me, I'll..."
"I'm not going to kill you..." Walker said, a knowing smile creeping across his lips, "...at least, not until we can arrange some sort of... deal."
"Whatever, man!" Milton cried as the water level receded to less than a foot from the bottom. "Take my soul, my money... I don't care! Just don't let me die!"
"Glad to hear it, Mr. Milton," Walker said, rising from his kneeling position and out of Mort's line of sight.
"Hey!" the desperate man called after the scientist. "Where are you going? DON'T LEAVE ME! I SAID I'D DO WHATEVER YOU WANTED!"
As Mort braced himself for his inevitable suffocation, he heard a hissing sound and knew, somehow, that the pool vents were being closed and that the water level, now at only a few inches, would remain where it was. Opening his eyes, Mort Milton let out a sigh of relief, which sent air bubbles through the remaining water.
"Mr. Milton," the man in the lab coat said, returning to his position at poolside, this time standing menacingly with his fist resting on his hips, "my name is Dr. Charles Walker, and I am the head of a small government operation known as the Enhanced Procurement Sanction, or simply the EPS. We exist for one purpose, and one purpose only: to further explore the capabilities of the metagene. In our continuing effort to do so, we find it in our best interests to 'procure' other metahumans to assist in our endeavor."
"Which is to 'procure' more metahumans, correct?" Mort asked, just grateful to be alive at this point. Walker nodded his assent to the remark.
"So, you kidnap them, then, is that it?" Mort asked somewhat defensively.
"'Kidnap' is such a harsh word, Mr. Milton," Walker said calmly, not changing his position in the least. "'Procurement' or 'acquisition' are much friendlier terms, to be sure."
"So, what happens after all that is done? After every metagene has been explored and documented?" Mort asked.
"Well," Walker began, "with all the new mutations and evolutions taking place in the metagene, it is logical to guess that the day you mentioned is a long way off."
"But still, what next?"
"Means to an end, my friend..." Walker said quietly, "...means to an end."
"What end?" Mort asked, his voice getting louder and louder with every question.
"I'm afraid that I cannot divulge this information to you just now," Walker said, turning his back to Mort.
"You tell me or no deal!" Mort threatened, raising a webbed fist into the air.
Walker turned, an amused smile now spreading across his lips. "Mr. Milton, you must be joking!" he laughed quietly as Milton gritted his teeth. "You've already signed your life over to me, sir," Walker continued. "And, if you should go back on your word..."
Walker paused slightly, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together slowly in a circular motion.
"...then I have absolutely no qualms with pushing the DRAIN button one last time."
Walker smiled, nodded his head, said good day, and exited, leaving Mortimer S. Milton in little more than a puddle of water, alone with his own thoughts.