Just For One Day

6

     The scientist hurried through the hallways, gripping his clipboard tightly. He was short, balding, and wearing a labcoat that was a few sizes too big, with safety goggles perched on his nose. The monogram stitched onto his breast pocket read 'Dr. Leopold Mercer', and he gave the impression of a man who is perpetually overworked.

     "Out of the way, out of the way," he said as he pushed past a gaggle of other people with lab coats. The all had concerned looks on their faces as they discussed important scientific matters.

     "What's the rush, Mercer?" one of them asked.

     "Mr. Pink is here," said Mercer.

     "Already? But he wasn't supposed to get here until three."

     "Well he's here, and no one has greeted him!" snapped Mercer. "Apparently he's been waiting for half an hour already!" With that, he hurried on down the hallway.

     No one could quite put their finger on it, but there was something about Mr. Pink that just wasn't right. It upset the staff terribly, and Mercer, as head of Mr. Pink's project, had drawn the metaphorical short straw to give him a tour through the facility while discussing results. As far as Mercer was concerned, that straw was so short as to be practically nonexistent, and he had had to take fifteen minutes to fight the urge to have a nervous breakdown in the bathroom after he had been notified of yet another of Mr. Pink's impending visits.

     Unfortunately for Mercer, Mr. Pink was paying Eagle Scientific LLC., the organization that Mercer worked for, a tremendous amount of money. This meant to the CEO that no amount of weird vibes or nervous breakdowns would stop them from continuing to be in his employ for as long as possible. This was also tremendously good news for Mercer's psychiatrist.

     Mercer threw open the door that lead to the walkway over the main development floor, and there, with his white hair and immaculate dress sense, stood Roger Pink. This time he wore a blue suit with broad gray stripes, a white shirt, and a bright orange tie with a silver tie clip.

     "Hey! Uh," Roger squinted to read the monogram on Mercer's coat, even though they had met on several occasions. "Mercer! How's it going? I hope you don't mind if I eat in here. I had to skip breakfast today." In his left hand he held a carryout box with a stack of syrup covered pancakes in it, which he held up as he talked. There was a fork in his right hand. "Most important meal of the day, you know."

     "Uh, of course not, that's totally fine," Mercer said. It was strictly against policy to have any kind of food in the lab areas, but there was absolutely no way Mercer was going to tell him that.

    "I'm here just on a little informal visit to see how my product is doing," said Roger. "So show me whatcha got."

     The walkway overlooked a large space that was connected to a number of doors which lead to the separate facilities and laboratories in the building. The floor space in the room was filled with countertops on which stood laptops, chemical reagents, bubbling beakers filled with interesting looking liquids, random assorted machinery, and sealed containers, a large portion of which were marked with 'caution', 'danger', and skulls with crossbones.

     "Well sir," Mercer said. "There's still enormous potential for each and every one of the experimental products, and we're discovering a wider variation every day. That being said, however, we have experienced a few, um, setbacks."

     "Setbacks," echoed Roger, his mouth full.

     "Y...yes sir," said Mercer.

     "What kind of setbacks are we talking here?"