Vincent Clearwater was sitting in board room 2-A. In front of him were three dossiers. Each was labelled with a very clear 'confidential' tag. They were the cause of this most recent meeting with the other directors of Planetform.
The contents of the dossier were the cause of much recent anguish to Vincent and he was hoping that today he would finally get an accurate explanation.
He turned his glass of scotch around slowly staring at the contents as though he believed the brown liquid would provide an accurate explanation. Of course the glass was silent, only sending a distorted reflection back at him. He raised the glass to his mouth and drained the contents before putting the glass down.
The directors would be arriving any moment, he checked that the silver pistol he always kept in the folds of his suit jacket was loaded and returned it to its place inside his jacket. He straightened his tie one final time and patiently awaited the directors.
Harold Saxon, the director of Covert operations (Known to most as the director of "legal and public relations") Walked casually into the room and took a seat. His demeanor was calm and collected, as he sat down he leaned back in the chair and looked towards Vincent. His gaze drifted around the director, then met him eye to eye. Harold raised an eyebrow slightly, curious of the agitated state of the director, as if it were as clear as writing on the wall.
"Afternoon."
Vincent only nodded in response. Harold interlaced his hands behind his head and waited for the other directors to arrive.
Soon after the rest of the directors arrived and Vincent cleared his throat.
"Right, lets get this started." Vincent sat up and looked each director in the eye.
"Gentleman, I've called you here today to discuss a massive breach in security." He flipped open one of the dossiers sliding it down the table. Inside were several pictures and comm logs of a ship labeled simply as 'Monkshood'.
"This was brought to me by one of our friends in the LSF." Vincent explained. "Since we're currently working on several government contracts it was deemed important to security that we be informed of this... event."
Vincent interlaced his fingers and locked his cold stare onto Harold.
"Mr. Saxon." Vincent said. "Your ship is named the Monkshood isn't it? A coincidence? No, I don't believe it is... Well to the point then: I'd like an explanation Mr. Saxon."
Harold reached for the
open dossier and slid it towards himself, and looked down glancing through the logs. As he read through it and examined the images he began to smile. He looked over to Felix Sherman, made eye contact and nodded briefly. He then turned to look Vincent in the eye.
"So you know, then. I know you well enough to know that you would not make this confrontation without more concrete evidence than this, so I won't even ask for it."
Harold leaned back again, still grinning.
"So Mr. Clearwater, I could make you intimately aware of what this is all about, but judging by the security outside the door, I don't think you wan't that to happen. So I will tell you this: Without us, Planetform is doomed. With us, Planetform will accomplish things you wouldn't dream of."
Vincent raised an eyebrow but at first didn't comment.
"Doomed you say?" He smirked. "I assure you Mr. Saxon that to the board you are as expendable as the rest of us." Vincent cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.
"Nonetheless I have not yet contacted the... appropriate authorities to deal with yourself and your crew so I will hear you out." Vincent spread his arms "So Mr. Saxon, tell me why Planetform needs you."
Mr. Sherman cleared his throat. He had been silent throughout the exchange, having shuffled in with the rest of the directors.
He spoke, making clear which side he flew the flag for.
"Mr. Clearwater, Planetform needs us because we can do things even the greatest technology cannot. Because we can bring forth life where none exists. Because what we can do will insure all your projects are completed under budget and on time. Because terraforming is our religion."
Sherman nervously cleared his throat again, taking a sip of water.
""We will work tirelessly, never faltering, never doubting. Our bodies are stronger, more resilient. We are smarter, and much more clever. We have the combined experiences of a hundred men inside each of us. We will never betray the company nor question how it works, for to us, the blooming forth of a new planet filled with the seed is nirvana. We will root out Gaian spies within your ranks, and any that oppose you and your company also oppose life and our very purpose."
"Make no mistake, we are not the Non that walk the void come amongst you. We are still very much human, sir, despite our differences."
Vincent leaned forward resting his arms on the table. Saying that was the wierdest thing he had ever heard wouldn't be entirely true. However the fact it was coming from the director of transportation and not some random homeless man on the street who was completely wasted definetely put it i the running.
Vincent wasn't quite sure whether he should laugh or be awed or just generally think this whole situation was an elaborate prank.
"And who are 'we' exactly." Vincent asked.
Sherman stared at Clearwater, his nervousness disappearing.
"We are the Touched, those who have felt the embrace of the Spore. Inside our brains and our blood is a organic medium forming multiple biomechanical matrixes capable of various tasks, including remote communication, gene repair, rapid protein growth, organ augmentation, and the sharing of consciousness. This organic medium is derived from a line of genetically modified plants, grown and formed by a mad scientist and his team using data from a Nomad probe damaged in the Downfall. These plants have had their root structures pushed further down the evolutionary line to the point they are capable of acting as primitive neurons and linking together, forming consciousness and sentience. Through a specific matrix designed for long range telepathic communication, every man, plant, and animal touched by the Spore, and the heart trees of the Spore Mother, are linked together in a minimal form of shared consciousness. Right now, I can see through the eyes of a Corsair Elder, or feel the hormonal regulation of a plant of Pueblo Bonita, or sense the heat dissapation of a field of flowers on Primus, or even experience the exact sensations and thoughts of Mr. Saxon."
"Is that exact enough for you, Mr. Clearwater?"
"Specific enough... yes I suppose so. Except I don't quite believe you." Vincent reached into his jacket and in a slow deliberate motion placed the silver pistol on the table in front of him.
"You see Mr. Sherman, I've seen the survey information from Planet Primus. It is not possible to grow plant life on the planet without specific genetic modifications prior to planting. Genetic modifications that have, to my knowledge, not yet been discovered." Vincent tapped one finger on the table as he pondered over his next words.
"So either you are lying to me Mr. Sherman, and I do not like being lied to, or you're implying that you and your... touched... have somehow managed to do the impossible and grow a forrest on a planet plagued by radiation. Now, if you were in my shoes Mr. Sherman, which of those two options would seem more likely to you?"
Mr. Sherman glanced at the pistol, nonplussed and unafraid.
He meaned his elbows on the table, playing with a small metal clip.
"You would be correct in assuming that the Touched had nothing to do with it. We came after, long after. How exactly the modification was discovered eludes us, as the labratory wherein Amanda Willows, the Spore Queen, and the first, was grown, has been destroyed. We know only that it's discovery involved study of Non architecture."
He took another sip of water.
"As for how it works, once you realize the secret, it's exceedingly simple. For hundreds of years scientists have been attempting to create self-regulating DNA, immune to the rampant mutation that large doses of radiation causes. All their attempts have apparently been a failure, overcomplicated and unable to function. Nanotechnology has been promising, but it's very nature as a foreign object eventually leads to fatal autoimmune disease in all test subjects. The solution pursued by Aperture Science, the laboratory responsible for the Spore, was to combine the two ideas, a specific protein structure in the roots that produces organic molecules responsible for repairing faulty DNA and RNA. To be honest, the structure they eventually used bears remarkable similarities to structures found within Nomad remains. It makes us a bit uncomfortable."
"As for proof...."
With a quick motion he used the metal clip to slice open a finger, slapping it to the table.
A large amount of thick sap-like fluid spilled from the wound, spilling towards the pistol in a second. It completely engulfed the pistol before hardening.
Sherman broke his hand away from the mass of goop.
"As I said, rapid protein growth. Unfortunately, the laws of conservation dictate that my body has to replace it. It makes for an interesting meal schedule, although losing weight is comparatively easy."
With a shrug, he downed the rest of his water and took a stick of beef from his coat pocket, peeling off the plastic and chewing while his green eyes stared at Clearwater.