VOID - Cacciatore

Chapter One - Help When You Should Not

He stared into the room before him, through the transparent, 5-inch thick glass that stretched for meters on either side of him. He stared in the room that lay beyond the transparent material with its near blindingly-white walls and matching floor. It’s four small lights; tightly tucked into the ceiling which looked like a mirror image of the walls and floor. He looked into the near-empty room with frustrated, vivid green eyes. Why was this thing they found on the Italian border with Slovenia so difficult to figure out? Why must it be so mysterious?

But these questions did not run through his mind like they had done a few days ago; why was it here? What was it? Who sent it? Those were the question he and his team of scientists asked regularly but were unable to answer.

The 6 foot long pod, with it’s always perfectly smooth and clean surface, lay in the centre of the room he was never allowed to enter. Not without Bertoldo’s permission anyway, which he had asked for but never received. It was strange, every other scientist on his team: Amato, Dustin, Prudence and Cosmina, had been allowed entrance and all had touched the pod and had run experiments. But not him, why? He had all the right qualifications and had been promoted extraordinarily fast, all the way up to his current position as Bertoldo’s ‘deputy’ if you want to call it.

“Glen,” Glen’s back straightened and his mind cleared at the sound of the firm and commanding voice of Dustin, an American who moved to Italy with his parents when he was four years old.

“Yes?” Glen’s voice sounded harsher than he would have liked, but he couldn’t help it. The EU and Germany were threatening to stop funding their project if they did not produce good enough results, America was constantly trying to get hold of the pod; claiming the Italians had neither the resources nor money to keep or protect the pod. And after the money Italy had spent on this thing and getting no results, it was sort of true at this point.

“I got you some tea,” If Dustin had been offended by his tone he didn’t show it, but instead covered it with a small smile. Dustin reached out, almost cautiously, to hand Glen his tea.

Tea, Glen always loved tea. Ever since he first tried it back in his home country of Wales, his English mother always made him tea when he was sick every morning. How he missed his mother.

Glen slowly took the boiling tea, its warmth soothing his freezing, numb hands that had been exposed to the cold this morning. He never knew temperatures to drop so low in Venice. Taking small sips he smiled, somewhat awkwardly, at the American.

“Thanks,” He mumbled through sips, clutching the tea in both hands.

“Bertoldo will be here soon, he wants to speak with you,” Dustin’s face became so serious so suddenly it made Glen wince.

“Thanks,” Glen replied, feeling a whole lot more awkward and slightly nervous under Dustin’s gaze, which looked almost like a glare.

Glen hated conflict, which is precisely why he and Amato didn’t get along. Amato was... violent, aggressive. He got into several fights with both Bertoldo and Dustin in the past. Glen made sure to keep as far away from it as possible, although doing so had earned him the nickname: ‘Mittens’, Amato thought it was hilarious, Glen found it irritating but had learned to ignore it.

Bertoldo interrupted their awkward silence by storming into the dark grey and poorly-lit room like he normally did every day.

“Hi,” he said simply, giving Glen and Dustin his famous ‘blink-and-you-miss-it’ glance, his face was emotionless as always as he walked up to a long, grey-blue control panel, directly beneath the dauntingly large glass window, littered with buttons of different shapes and sizes.