Wattys 2020 Boot Camp

NV Pembroke - Electioneering

Showcase entry for nvpembroke

Pitch:

A dysfunctional team of amnesiac British spies must find the mysterious source of their superpowers and stop it falling into terrorist hands.

Blurb:

Having superpowers can be proper shite; especially when you've got no clue how to control them.

The scientists of Project Golding wanted to make a team of perfect spies, so they started them young and...experimented.

What a bunch of eejits. As if giving kids telepathy, or invisibility, or the power to level half of London, wasn't a disaster waiting to happen. When they pulled the plug, a wee mind wipe should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

Fifteen years later, the reassembled MI-X must find and secure the source of their powers. Best get their arses in gear, or they'll be facing an army of superpowered terrorists.

Fantastic. No pressure, then.

First 1000 words:

Whitehall, London, 18th July 2003

'The less power a man has, the more he loves using it,' or so the old saying goes. Unfortunately for Doctor Emily Ward, the opposite also seemed to be true. The gifted child in front of her was proof of that. Her subject had not yet noticed her approach; she was fully focused on the giggles drifting across from the adjacent gymnasium. The one-way glass, which allowed the girl to view her peers at play, was the only offer of entertainment in the cubicle-like room.

Unlike the children she so clearly wanted to join, Laura spent all her time at a small wooden desk, completing her individual studies. The child was too integral to their plans to be let loose with the other, somewhat prosaic, subjects. But the doctor's well-laid plans were stalling. It was nothing she couldn't rectify, but Ward needed to find the perfect trigger for Laura. The carrot, the stick, or something in between. Whatever would work.

Ward watched in silence as Laura stood and reached out a chubby little hand. She placed her palm flat against the window, as if trying to bridge the barrier. In the young girl's reflection, the doctor could see the first twitches of a hopeful smile. None of the other children returned it though. By now the girl must have learnt not to even hope they would.

Laura's eyes, which seemed to shine with intelligence, met the doctor's in the glass. The girl's face, all cherubic pale skin and rounded, rosy red cheeks, was devoid of her usual joy at receiving a visitor. Ward steeled herself, knowing that today's session might not be one of Laura's more cooperative ones.

The doctor traced her fingers along the angry red mark that tracked from below her own right ear, down to the top of her clavicle. It served as a salient reminder of the promise and necessity of the child before her.

Ward moved further into the room, hoping to hide her pause of contemplation from the child. One of her junior lab technicians stumbled in behind her, scribbling into a paper file.

What was his name again? Was it Burton? Bennett? It mattered little, given what was to come.

Busying herself with making notes on various charts, Ward paused when she noted the glisten to the girl's dark mahogany eyes. The colour perfectly matched her long hair, which hung in messy waves, stopping just above her waist.

"Hey, why the long face, little monkey?" She tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. The girl shrugged as the happy noises of playtime flared up again from beyond the glass. Ward knelt down in front of the child. With her index finger, she gently lifted Laura's chin until their eyes met. Laura's bottom lip seemed to retract, and though it did not extend as far as a smile, the doctor took it as a good sign and pushed on.

"Hey, do you know what would be really fun? How about if there was a monkey here for you to play with? Can you imagine that?"

Flashing a broad, gap-toothed smile, the girl nodded with such force her hair flew into her eyes. The doctor pushed it back, tucking the unruly waves behind Laura's ears, then handed her a sketchbook and pencils. Burton—it was Burton, she remembered—shuffled in place.

"I like monkeys," Laura said as she sat herself down at the desk and began sketching. "Especially silly monkeys who throw bananas around!"

"That's nice, Laura. Remember what we practiced?" It appeared she did. Laura looked up and turned her attention to Burton, whilst all the while she sketched on.

"What? No! Why is she looking at me like that?" The fear was clear in the high-pitched crack of his voice, as the constant scrape-scrape of pencil on paper filled the air.

The girl always closed her eyes for what came next. Ward considered doing the same, but as always, her scientific curiosity won out. The alternating crunch and pop of bones contracting, followed by the squelch of flesh reforming was always louder than she expected. The gelatinous mass that was once her assistant twisted and oozed under Laura's command. The sight made even the hardened doctor nauseous.

Ward felt a thwap against her right shin and looked down to see a banana thud to the floor beside her. A sound of "Kakakaka!" signalled the completion of the process. Despite having witnessed Laura's power several times before, the monkey dancing a merry jig in the centre of the room still shocked her. Pleased, Ward noted that the attention to detail far outstripped the girl's previous amateur and almost cartoonish attempts.

"Very good, Laura. Well done." The monkey bounded over to his maker, took her by the hand, and dragged her into his chaotic jig. The girl clapped with glee, eager to explore with her new playmate.

Ward would have her work cut out persuading Laura to switch him back, but that was a problem for another day. In the interim, she could enjoy a brief respite from his incompetence.

The doctor spoke into the comms device in her ear. "We have an Alpha-3 situation in here. Can someone come and escort our guest out? It's remarkable. I'd like to get some DNA sequencing done."

Hearing the orders, the girl's mood seemed to deflate in an instant. Her shoulders slumped and the protruding bottom lip was back with a vengeance. They had been here many times before. Laura's sulk was exacerbated by the entry of an armed guard, who ushered the monkey out of the room without delay. Ward recognised the tremors that started to shake Laura's tiny frame for what they were—the precursor to a crying fit.

Ward knew that keeping the subject happy was the best way to ensure cooperation. With an animated spin and a wave of her hands, she said, "There's no need to be so glum. Do you know what would be even more fun than a monkey?"

"No. I just want to play with the monkey," Laura mumbled. "Or anyone really." With a more exaggerated jut of her bottom lip, she whined, "Why do you always take away the fun toys I make?"