Naturesse (book 1 of the (supposed) Evealutions trilogy)

chapter 6

Chapter Six:

What Was Never Supposed to Happen

Damian

I was sitting at my table with a mug of hot water - I didn't like the taste of tea... or coffee... actually I didn't like the taste of many drinks at all - staring gloomily at a science course page on my data pad when they came to get me. A few workers from the Research Centre knocked and came in quietly. I looked around, startled at their sudden appearance. Something vague flitted across my mind of breaking and entering. Wasn't it deemed polite to actually ask to come in, before barging inside?

'Is it possible for you to come and help with an experiment?' one had asked me.

I interpreted that as 'come and help us with an examination, right now.'

Before I knew it, I was bundled out the door, and onto the nearest Loco to the Research Centre. I sat between two Researchers, looking rather blankly at the third who was busily informing me about what was going to happen.

'All you need to do is view some images and videos,' she explained to me. 'It shouldn't be too hard, and of course this will count towards adding more to your end of year grades.'

I nodded dumbly, still startled by the sudden change of events. What had happened to my sleepy weekend glaring at school books imprinted on the screens of data pads, sleeping in and going to the gym for long hours? In fact, the last thing I wanted was to be heading back to the Research Centre for a test or some other form of examination. I hated tests.

The rest of the trip continued with the Researchers chatting about a new timetable or something while I looked out the window. I had always wanted to follow Research when school finished, but I had never realised how difficult and technical it would be.

I was smart, maybe not one of the amazingly academic people, but I mostly got high B and occasionally a few low A grades in everything but art and sport.

Art, as a 'recreational class' that was a necessary in the school's curriculum, I wasn't that particularly fond of and I was generally given a C, and sport, being my strong point to the verge of ludicrously was - unmistakeably – a perfect one hundred percent A every time.

The doors hissed open at the stop and all four of us in the carriage walked out. Instead of taking me to the front desk to be recorded and signed in, they took me to a smaller, less noticeable side door. Either they had already signed me in, sure of my cooperation, or they didn't want many people to know I was there. The latter was fair enough, most students were not usually allowed in work places outside of school.

'This way,' a different one of the three called out to me briskly, leading the rest of us down a long corridor. At a junction, I looked over to my left, where some noises were coming from. At least half a dozen cleaning staff were milling around a door, easy to recognise because of their dull mint green uniform, multiple sterile cleaning bags dotted at their feet. I looked at little closer, at what seemed to be suspiciously like shattered glass lying around. The walkway looked vaguely familiar, like I had been there before, not too long ago, yet forgotten all about it. I shrugged and put it down to deja-vu. Some muted murmurings came to me, but I couldn't make out what they were about. The word 'attacked' came up more than once though.

'Come on,' said the Researcher behind me, shoving me perhaps a little too roughly in the back of my shoulder blades. I flicked an eye irritably in his direction and he quickly stopped. So maybe I was scary sometimes, but that was their fault for provoking me. We continued on and left the cleaning crew behind us, and within another five minutes our party arrived at a plain set of swinging doors, much like the ones that lined the rest of the corridor.