"You broke rule number four, Charlie."
Two men sat at a small ovaluar table on a terrace overlooking the verdant valleys of Gran Canaria. Both were well into their forties or even fifties. The one who spoken reached into his blazer pocket. "Charlie," the man sitting across from him, glanced at the man's hand.
Watching Charlie's eyes, the man laughed. "What? Do you think that I'm going to kill you?"
Charlie simply stared, wide eyed. The man opposite from him continued to laugh.
"I'm not going to kill you Charlie!" said the man, laughing. Several other customers on the terrace turned around to look at the two men.
The man smiled at Charlie. "Oh Charlie," he began, placing his hand over his right eye, "you're so funny."
The man suddenly dug his hand with terrible force into his own eye and removed what appeared to be his eye. Charlie stared at the man's hollow socket and felt an embarrassing wetness on his thigh.
"A souvenir, Charlie," said the man, placing the object into Charlie's palm. "To remember the good times."
Reaching into his pocket again, the man withdrew something black.
"God, oh god, Lorenzo, no. I'm you daughter's godfather," stammered Charlie.
Lorenzo laughed again, lifting the black object up. It was an eyepatch. "Charlie, you never were one of us."
Charlie stared at Lorenzo, confused.
Lorenzo put on his eyepatch and stood. "We never do those things personally," he said to Charlie, grinning.
Charlie swallowed, watching his "friend" walk away.
"Charlie" stood up, oblivious of the wet stain on his pants and the object in his hand. It's over, he thought, it's all over. I'm done...
"Excuse me, sir," Charlie heard. He spun around to see a waitress looking at him.
"Sir, are you alright?" asked the waitress.
"I'm fine," snapped Charlie, slamming his hand down on the table. "Absolutely fantabulously fine."
The waitress looked hurt.
"What are you standing there for?" demanded Charlie, "Out of my way!"
"I'm sorry sir," stammered the waitress, "I...ju...just.... thought that you spilt something...on...on...your pants."
Charlie looked down at the stain on his pants. Fear was the most awesome power in the universe. Everyone controls it, yet everyone is subject to it. Charlie forced a smile and stood. "I'm sorry child. I'm having a very bad morning."
The waitress regained some of her composture. "Then can I get you something?"
"No," said Charlie, walking away, "I'm going back to my room."
The waitress looked at the strange man and turned her attention to the table where he was sitting. Before she could begin cleaning it, she noticed a small, round object on the table. Using her cleaning cloth, she picked it up and raised it into the light.
The waitress exclaimed and nearly dropped the spherical object.
It's a glass eye! thought the waitress. She turned around to look for the man who just left for his room. He was nowhere to be seen. Looking around at the other guests, the waitress pocketed the eye. The man seemed quite well-off, and there might be an award. Gran Canaria was totally isolated, and business was infrequent. She needed anything she could get. Anything.
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Lorenzo Sala, like most other members, was a middle-aged man. But in comparison to the others, Sala cast an omnious shadow over his peers, both in temperment and in bulk. A former Corsair, Sala left his brothers and sisters as a young man for the industrial wasteland of Leeds, where he made a fortune in mineral processing.
Unlike the others, he had seen it all. He had been on the battlefield, the factory, and the courts, and he had proof. From his missing right eye to the millions he carried in his pocket, Lorenzo Sala was the living embodiment of success, hard work, and determination. Sala held himself higher than the other simply because he was more experienced and in his eyes, better. But then, there was Lady.
Sala disapproved of her membership at first, especially since she had inherited it from her dead husband, Lord John Blake, a personal friend of Sala's. To Sala, Lady was simply another harlot that his friend would have ditched after time. But soon, it was obvious that she was quite the character. Even after knowing her for nearly three years, Lorenzo Sala did not know who "Lady" was. She did not even give her own name, she never mentioned her late husband, nor did she ever engage in any social events with the others.
All in all, Lady was a recluse, and Sala hated that. He hated the fact that he was not in control, the fact that he knew so little about her. She was so difficult to grasp.
Lorenzo Sala strode into the meeting chamber aboard Le Meridien, a large, customized luxury liner. The minute the doors opened for Sala, a powerful din escaped into the hallway. The sound of people, chattering, discussing, and scheming.
"My fellow founders, and my partners," said Lorenzo Sala, raising his voice, "your attention, please!"
The room suddenly quieted down. Sala scanned the room, glancing at all thirty members present around a oval, mahogony table. He found Lady sitting close to the podium at one of the ends of the table. She smiled at him.
Sala ignored the smile and continued. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I propose to you a business proposition."
Several people in the room laughed. "Lorenzo, it's what we always do! Can't you come up with something fun for a change?" asked one.
Sala simply smiled. "I assure you gentlemen, this time, it's quite different. I assure you that this time will be the most exciting, most dangerous, and most incriminating venture that we have ever undertaken."
There were several "Ooo's" from the members.
"I present to you," continued Sala, "Cardamine."
Suddenly, the room darkened and a image was projected behind Sala. It was a small pill, half-red, half yellow.
"Millions have tried to cash in on this commodity, and all have failed. The only successful ones in the galaxy are the Outcasts of Malta, and through it, they hold a firm grip on the addicts of Sirius as well as organized crime in Sirius. Thousands of scientists have attempted to replicate the powerful effects of the drug, and so far, none have been successful."
The members were silent now.
"On-screen," said Sala. A video began on the projection behind Sala.
"Cardamine," continued Sala, "is an isomer, like many other chemical compound of this world. Now for those of us who are not so scientifically comfortable, an isomer is simply a chemical compound that has the same numer of atoms, made of the same elements as the original compound, only the atoms and compounds are arranged in a different fashion."
Two models of two similar-looking compounds appeared on the screen.
Sala looked around at his audience. "For instance, let's take the drug, L-Dopa. It's used to treat Parkinson's disease. We can transform L-Dopa, however. But simply taking the mirror image of L-Dopa, you create an entirely new compound, R-Dopa, which is completely worthless."
"Imagine, if we were able to take Cardamine and transform it. Alter it just a little bit so that it would suit our needs better," said Sala, "Imagine if we could do to Cardamine, what did to L-Dopa. But instead of making it just worthless, think of all the possibilities that we could use it for!"
The members at the table suddenly erupted into clamor.
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" said Sala, "Calm yourselves! Our dear, and late friend, Charles Lynye had a wonderful idea. His team of researchers altered Cardamine to the extent that it would have become a weapon. Fortunately, we dispatched the poor psycopath and seized his stores of the product and destroyed it. From Lynye's reseach, however, we discovered this."
Sala raised his hands. Between the thumb and index finger of both of his hands, Sala held a small pill. The one in his right hand was Blue and White, the other was Red and Yellow.
Sala lifted the Blue and White pill to his mouth and swallowed it. The members at the table looked on. Sala then swallowed the Red and Yellow pill.
"Sala!" exclaimed one of the members at the table, "that was...that was...Cardamine!!"
"Precisely," said Sala, "it's in your water too."
The room was suddenly filled with screaming. "You've poisoned us, Sala!!" one screamed.
"Silence!"
Everyone in the room, including Sala, looked at the foot of the table near the podium. It was Lady.
"I think," said Lady, sternly, "that Mr. Sala has something to say."
Sala nodded at the nebulous woman and smiled. "But you're all fine. I'm fine. Everyone's fine. Do you know why?"
"Why?" asked Lady.
"Because," finished Sala, "I've found a cure."
At this point in time, I would like to open this RP thread to others.
I feel that it would be an interesting way to advance the story, especially with our combined efforts. I have not formulated more of the story so I am completely open to any of your ideas/opinions/suggestions.
Please post only story segments in this thread.
If you would like to contribute, feel free to PM me!