TK Special #4 - elveloy... Evolutionary Anomalies

WATTPUNK: THE PREQUEL

Walter Padelewski was running for his life. His sandalled feet slid on the shiny linoleum and his breath came in shuddering gasps as he raced down another seemingly endless white corridor. His straining ears could hear heavy footsteps pounding behind him but he didn't dare stop to turn his head for even a second. If he could only reach the computer laboratory at the end, he would be safe.

Once inside, it would take less than a second to trigger the security lock, and he would be on the right side of a four-inch-thick steel door, guaranteed to stop anything short of a nuclear blast. If he could only reach the lab.

~~~

The day had begun ordinarily enough. Morning meeting with the research staff, a quick trip to the cafe next door for a latte and a ham roll, then hours spent hunched over his keyboard, happily absorbed in his latest venture-creating an on-line writing platform.

His first feeling was one of simple irritation when Jewel opened his door and peered cautiously around the corner. "There are two men here to see you, Walt. Mr White and Mr Black. Have you got a moment?"

"Have they got an appointment?" he asked waspishly, knowing full well that there were no appointments at all. He had been most careful to quarantine the whole afternoon for his pet project.

Jewel allowed a small frown to crease her perfect brow. "They say they're from Mr Mazon, to discuss the ramifications of your new project. I think you ought to see them, Walt."

"Mazon, eh? I suppose I'd better see them then," he replied, with resignation. Alfred Mazon ran one of the biggest publishing companies-he couldn't afford to offend him, though he couldn't help wondering how his own small company could be of interest to such a giant.

As if they had overheard his reply, two large men appeared in the doorway, pushing past Jewel. The fact that they were both dressed in expensive grey suits did nothing to allay his first impression. Low brows, thick necks and unsmiling eyes said one thing. Whatever these men wanted, they weren't going to take "no" for an answer.

Walter swallowed nervously. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

Both men stayed on their feet, ignoring the two chairs in front of Walter's desk.

"This won't take long, Mr Padelewski," said Mr White. "It's very simple. Shut down your plans for an on-line writing platform and you won't hear from us again."

"But my site will be for amateurs, hobby writers. What harm can it possibly do?" Walter protested.

"Probably none," Mr Black smiled, but for some reason it didn't make Walter feel any better. "But we don't want to take the risk, do we?" he added.

"What happens if I don't?" Walter managed to squeeze out.

Both men smiled, but said nothing. The effect was more threatening than any words.

"I can't believe Mr Mazon would condone this sort of behaviour!" said Walter in a faint voice. He knew Alfred Mazon was a hard-headed businessman, but he'd never heard anything like this about him.

"Mr Mazon is a generous man," said Mr White. "But sometimes he can be too forbearing for his own good. It's our job to look after his interests."

"I'm sure Mr Mazon would be terribly upset if anything should happen to you," added Mr Black, in earnest tones.

"Now if you'll just hand over that laptop, we'll be on our way," said Mr White.

Walter's thoughts skittered around in his brain, seeking a way out. "All right, " he murmured, rising to his feet. "I'll just walk out with you." He clutched his laptop firmly to his breast and stepped out from behind the desk.