The World Of Steam

6

I stopped by a chemical processing plant and looked up at the immense factory complex. The large hundred foot steel vats spouted thick toxic gases into the air through their tall chimneys, poisoning everyone around them, not caring who got caught in their clouds of death. Hundreds of metres worth of laid out pipes that were red with rust poured colourful chemicals into the rivers, permanently polluting the oceans. The river water that flowed by at a leisurely pace into the Atlantic ocean was a sickly reddish-brown, poisoned by heaps upon heaps of chemical waste. Its inhabitants were extinct and their bones were long since fossilised, integrated with the earth. I could imagine that the fumes alone were enough to kill someone. Air filters spat out dense, green chlorine gas, threatening to give anyone within their range a slow and agonising death. The plant was decorated with hundreds of twisting and turning pipes that contained mixtures of chemicals that I could not even begin to fathom. The only thing that I could do, was imagine what types of horrors were going on inside, and even that I was quite reluctant to find out. Maybe some information was best left unlearned after all. The chemical plants were one of the most dangerous places in the entire country. It was said that for every day that someone worked there, they were two days nearer death. But sadly, like most people in this country, they had no choice. I walked up to the plant and stopped by a receptionist. He looked up at me through the glass case that he was in.

"Plant's closed off to civilians." He immediately said to me, sounding bored. Not even a second later, he looked back down at his mobile phone, tapping away at it. I reached into my suit and drew out my licence. I pressed it up against the glass. Hearing the smack, he looked up from his phone and observed my rank. A second later, he looked up at me. "What's a person like you doing in a place like this?" He asked with the tiniest frown. I put my licence back into my suit.

"Looking for clues and answers, like any other ordinary detective."

The receptionist put his phone down onto his small desk and reached for a telephone, tapped a single button. "There's a private detective here, says he's looking for answers." He stayed quiet for two seconds, listening to what was being said. "Alright." He put the telephone down and gestured with his head. "Go on in. But I do warn you, we have cameras everywhere."

"How thoughtful of you." I replied sarcastically and then made my way into the plant as the metal gate buzzed and slid to the side. I passed by a truck, turning my gaze to it for a second. There was a man inside, clad in heavy protective uniform and boots. A gas mask covered his entire head, a tube affixed to an oxygen tank on his back. He angrily muttered to himself incomprehensibly, shovelling what seemed to be cyanide into a barrel. There was a pile of sacks behind him, two of them split open, pouring out the poisonous contents everywhere. I opened the front door and stepped into the plant, looked around. The building was alive with workers, all clad in protective clothing and gas masks. Barrels were loaded onto trucks, machines were inspected. One worker wore a long, heavy leather coat. His gas mask had two breathing tubes and there was a worker's helmet on his head. He welded away at a machine, his tools sparking brightly. One worker looked over to me, noticing the intruder.

"Who are you?" He asked me. "What are you doing here?"

I turned to him. "I'm a private detective, looking for answers. A scientist has gone missing, would you know anything about that?"

"Why would I?"

"Has he ever come along to this place, asking for any supplies or chemicals?"

The worker scoffed, seeming to laugh a little bit and then continued with his work without offering me an answer.

"Get out if you know what's good for you." A muffled voice told me. I turned and looked at them. One worker looked at me. Dark goggles covered his eyes and a rag was pulled up over his mouth and nose.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked him.

"He means it literally!" A voice called out to me. I turned around. A man walked up to me. He was dressed in a sharp white suit and a black tie. He had a well tamed beard and long wavy hair that went down to his shoulders. He stopped in front of me and reached his hand out. I shook it. "Athenodoros Moore. I'm the foreman here. Call me Athen. This place is a death trap, it's even worse than being outside without a gas mask." He looked over to the worker, nodding his head upwards slightly. "Show him."

The worker took the rag down, revealing his face. There was a caustic burn on one of his cheeks and near his mouth, his skin red and inflamed. Athenodoros nodded to him and the worker pulled the mask back up again, going back to his work. The foreman looked back over to me.

"Why don't you shut the place down?" I asked him.

"The chemicals have got to go somewhere." Athenodoros replied, shrugging. "It's a dirty and dangerous job, but someone has to do it."

"I'm here to track down a missing scientist. Has anyone recently come along to ask for any supplies or chemicals?"

"Yes, but that was some months ago. I have heard the news and I'm certain that it's the same scientist that has gone missing."

"Do you have any information that can lead to the scientist's whereabouts?"

"I'm afraid that I can't help you there. Knowing this city, the scientist is probably dead by now."

I merely nodded to him and left.