Helena Walker: The Path

Edmund Rockwell. Sir.

My first impressions of the scientist were, well, he's certainly a character. Despite his old age I felt like he had a rivalling amount of energy compared to me, which is saying a lot considering I'm like a roo jumping around when I talk.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Helena Walker." He said to me as his argentavis lowered itself, giving a glance to the other large birds in the village.

His features came into view as the glint of the sun unveiled his figure: he had light skin, his back slightly hunched, his hair was slicked back and glazed with silver, not a single strand of black was visible on his head. The length of his hair was enough to touch his nape at the back. A bunch of hair had came loose from its position, most probably from the flight, which he promptly fixed back with the rest of his hair. Facial hair covered above and below his lips, a large bushy beard and moustache that was of equal colour to his hair.

Upon his nose were circular lensed glasses, they reflected a light glint of the sunlight that aimed at his skin. That such skin was wrinkled at his forehead, his cheekbones, and above his beard. If I were to ask a random person to draw a scientist, this would be what they'd draw. All he was missing was a lab coat, of which instead he had an almond coloured tunic with a black strap round his shoulder passing past his waist, a small compartment attached to his hip.

"And a pleasure to meet you. Edmund Rockwell... sir." I said, outstretching a hand to the fellow scholar of science as he stepped off his mount.

He took my hand and gave it a shake, though frail in his old age, it was obvious that in his past he was more active, his frame was wide and his hands were larger than mine, and I've always had large hands. His skin was rough and flaky, from his age and his encounters as a scientist, a chemist to be exact.

His ego seemed to be a ploy, maybe even just a fun act he thought was humorous. He separated me from the others of the howling wolves and asked to speak in private of more 'superior scientific' topics. Begrudgingly, Rogan allowed him to speak to me at one of the seating areas in one of the buildings. Rockwell took his seat at the end of the table and I sat beside him on the left.

"So, Helena. I've heard of your marvellous achievements, my congratulations." He said with a smile.

"I don't think I deserve that praise from the best scientist of the ark, it wasn't much." I reply, with a cheery laugh to accompany.

"Oh you humble soul, do allow yourself some bragging at some points Helena. To create a food source for creatures that properly provides for all nutrients needed. It's astounding."

As he replies I recall a talk I had with Vera, Rockwell came from the 19th century, in the highest powerhouse of the world at that point. The British empire. Using his position as a scholar in this era of dominance, he was able to develop lots of medicines for humanity. Yet the understanding of our bodies wasn't much explored at that time. Simply put, Rockwell was working with 200 years less of information, and had accurately described my 'invention' which really was just an imitation of nutritional food for animals of my time. Before I had a chance to reply to his praise, he continued.

"Allow me to ask. Why be a scientist?"

Huh. Random.

"When I was young, I guess I just really wished to make the world a better place, and I shall do the same for this one too." I answer him, with a slight confused tone.

"Every invention has a downside, and I'm not talking about slight issues with the creation, I'm talking about who gets their hands on it. If a new weapon was made for war, could that weapon not be replicated by the opposition, thus being used against the creator?" He seems quite content with blabbering on a lot, though I notice I do the same sometimes, just scientist tendencies I guess.