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+--- Thread: Into the Mist (/showthread.php?tid=13420)
Into the Mist - pchwang - 10-30-2008
A sharp beep was heard as a holophone sprang to life. The figure in the hologram could barely be seen, but sat behind a large, rather spartan, desk.
"Update?"
"Simmons is doing well. I trust him, to a degree, but I don't think that he'll be able to get the job done right at this rate. He either needs some "encouragement" or support from our end. The press have been pressuring him to reveal several of our operations in Sirius, and he's been taking lots of PR blows left and right. If this keeps up, we may end up losing Viridian as a viable operator in Bretonia."
"That can be troublesome. But we are more concerned about the operations in Newcastle at the moment. Have you found a replacement for Eisenhart?"
"No, unfortunately, we've not."
"You realize that the entirety of this operation depends on your success in finding a suitable candidate?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"Then find another candidate, or go with another plan. We have entrusted you with the crux of this operation. If you foul it, it will be your responsibility. Do you understand what this means, Montesse?"
"Sir, this isn't a secure channel!
"Then what is the codename for? Do realize that we allow you your little hiding schemes...to an extent. In other words, we tolerate it. It does not mean that we like it."
"I understand."
"We're glad that you do. Now, I need to see results on the Operation, Montesse. Results make us pleased."
"Well, there is one thing that we can do..."
"What's that?"
In the dark of night, the conversation continued.
Into the Mist - pchwang - 10-30-2008
Jonas Hartman received his Ph.D summa cum laude from the University of Manhattan only two years ago. Unfortunately, due to a research mishap that conducted during an expedition to Planet Sprage, Dr. Jonas Hartman now held tenure(after only six months of working) at Roland D. Roosevelt Elementary School.
"Alright, FANTASTIC job you guys!" exclaimed Hartman in mock excitement. "Now, who can tell me what this is?"
"FROG!!!!" screamed a gaggle of young voices in unison. There were also a few shouts of "Alligator" and "Rhino" mixed in the background.
Hartman cried in anguish within. It was a salamander.
Unfortunately, however, being placed within the second grade at Roosevelt, was apparently a blessing for Hartman, according to his old professor, who had since broken all relations with him.
"Jonas," said the old man patting him on the back, "none of us would have ever thought it would come to this. None of us. The times we spent back in the old lab were times that I will treasure forever. But this, I can never forget either."
The professor's last words to him before hobbling out of the classroom were, "Have a good life, Jonas. You've still got plenty to live."
Jonas cursed silently. "No, guys, this is a salamander."
"BUT MY DADDY SAID IT WAS A FROG AND MY DADDY IS NEVER WRONG IF YOU SAY HE'S WRONG THEN I'M GOING HOME TO TELL MY DADDY THAT YOU SAID THAT HE WAS WRONG AND HE'S GOING TO COME OVER AND," paused one second-grader in a monotone, but half-shout voice, "AND, HE'S GONNA KICK YOUR ASS."
"You realize that I'm going to have to give you detention for that, right, Robbie?" asked Jonas. Why? he thought quietly to himself, Sorry, but your father's an idiot, and he most certainly cannot kick my ass.
Jonas secretly flexed his muscles underneath his loose and ill-fitting sweater. His girlfriend, Danni, had knitted it for him. It was the last thing that he had that she gave him. She too, left.
"Jonas...," she had demanded, "How? Why?"
There was a knock on the door. Jonas looked over and saw Mrs. Peppins, the Vice Principal.
"Heya, Mrs. Peppins, what's up?" asked Jonas.
"Jonas," said Mrs. Peppins in a sharp, perpetually surprised tone of voice, "there's someone on the phone for you. They sound just like the LSF."
"Mrs. Peppins, are you sure that it's not just another censorship committee?" asked Jonas. "Because you know that I just don't talk to those people anymore."
"Could be," said Mrs. Peppins. "But he sounded very serious."
Jonas sighed. "Alright, I'll be over in a bit."
Running a second grade class was not easy. After Mrs. Peppins managed to get Darcy Clemms, the third grade teacher, to watch Jonas' class temporarily, Jonas took off to the main office.
"Heello?" asked Jonas, picking up the phone.
"Dr. Jonas Hartman?" asked a voice over the handset. It was particularly Germanic in tone.
"Yes, this is Jonas Hartman," replied Jonas. "May I ask who is speaking?"
"My name is Dr. Elrich von Rammalen. Perhaps you are familiar with my work with the F. Vistourius plants on Baden-Baden?" said the voice.
Jonas nearly collapsed in shock. "Wow, uh, Dr. Rammalen, I actually did my senior thesis about your research."
"Brilliant, Dr. Hartman. However," continued Rammalen, "This is not the reason why I call. I'm calling because I need a Zoologist, and you are probably the best one available for the work."
"Professor, you do realize that I am blacklisted by every single scientific publisher in Sirius?" asked Jonas. "I mean, I would love to work with you, but the thing is, it's just not going to work out with me on your team. Everything I touch becomes radioactive."
"Dr. Hartman, you do realize that no other Zoologist will go where you will be coming with me?" asked Rammalen.
"Where's that?" asked Jonas.
"The Ravina Pit, Planet Carlisle," said Rammalen.
Jonas gaped for a few seconds, then came to his senses. "You're insane."
"Quite the contrary, Dr. Hartman. We've already assembled quite the team," said Rammalen. "Perhaps, you recognize a few of these names, like Robert Steinfeld, Eric Morgensen, Tetsuo Mikazumi?"
Jonas became even more stunned. These were famous professors, all from famous research institutions around the world. Steinfeld from Cambridge University, Morgensen from Imperial in Rheinland, and Mikazumi from New Tokyo Tech.
"The research expedition is being funded by the Viridian Alliance. They're an environmental research group that's been interested in bring out some of the 'inner secrets' of various planets around Sirius into the public eye to promote their conservation," explained Rammalen. "They'll also be sending along their own support group, headed by Dr. Maren Meer."
"Maren Meer, the animal rights spokeswoman?" asked Jonas. That woman was near supermodel standards in looks. Jonas had no idea that she had a Ph.D.
"As smart as she is beautiful," replied Rammalen. "So, Hartman, are you in?"
Within two days, Jonas found himself standing on the Planet Cambridge docking plateau, shouldering several bags - all that was left to his name in the world.
An older, but fit, man strode towards him. "Dr. Elrich von Rammalen. My students call me 'Rammo,' but my colleagues call me 'El.' You decide what role you want to play, and you call me by the appropriate name."
Hartman extended his hand. Rammalen was obviously eccentric, but he knew few brilliant men who weren't. "Rammo, then. I still have a lot to learn."
"Very good," smiled Rammalen. "Dr. Meer is inside, she'll brief you on the expedition. Come on, I'll show you the way."
Hartman smiled, and just followed. He felt like a student again.