In the Lab: On the Desk & Against the Walls

Three days ago, John arrived in New Zealand. Yesterday, the college-student-turned-private-researcher saw his lab for the first time. And today, he came to the lab once again, greeted by the white paint and tinted glass of the building's facade.

Formerly, the property was a residential estate overlooking the coast, with three levels above ground and a small basement under part of the ground floor. Most of the external walls were glass before Lillian set her worker bees on it, replacing the windows of the bottom floor with proper walls, and removing one of the garage doors as well. The second and third levels remained much the same, though the openness was reduced, making the glass walls half of a hallway running around the outside of the rooms, rather than a large viewing window for prying eyes outdoors. The dining room remained the last open space, facing the coast and providing a view that John considered magnificent.

With the remodelling complete and the furnishings of a lab and a house in place, it was time for John to leave Lillian's estate for this permanent housing. The last time he was here, Monty did not get a chance to see the lab, as it was still in the process of being set up. Excited to see his work space, he dropped his belongings off in his room and proceeded down to the ground floor, where the garage had been recreated as a proper, although somewhat small, lab.

In the corner by the garage door was a small loading bay, and next to that was most of the storage area. Closest to the entrance was a whiteboard, covering nearly all the wall. Two islands sat close by, each with a computer and a small testing area containing a microscope, a number of vials, slides, swabs, and bottles. Behind the islands, the laboratory was filled with equipment, largely for chemistry, with some counterspace dedicated to medical purposes.

The last thing John noticed was the door beside the whiteboard, and the window on the wall across from him. The lights were off inside, but the door was unlocked. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and Monty stepped inside and flipped on the light.

It was a whole new room, with a desk, a pair of filing cabinets, a computer, undecorated walls, and a window looking out to the coast. John slouched in the chair behind the desk, taking in his new workspace from the relaxing office chair. After a few minutes there, he stepped out for a moment to grab a suitcase from upstairs.

It didn't take long for him to cover the desk and walls with papers, making the lab and this office his.

After so much last minute preparation and so much hoping that things would fall into place, Lillian stood in front of the lab she had prepared, the silver key to the front door resting between her fingers. It was beautiful. She couldn't have found a more perfect place: right on the ocean, clean and sterile on the inside. A brand new beachfront estate.

It had taken hours and a lot of manpower to set everything up, but finally the building was ready to be occupied and all the equipment was in its proper place. John had settled in to his living quarters, and was ready to start research.

Now all we need is a crew.

Lillian unlocked the front door and slid inside, shutting the door tightly behind her.

"Helloooo," she called as she walked down the hallway that led to the lab. She knocked briskly a couple times on the door to the lab, then entered, noticing that the door to the office on the side was slightly ajar.

She found John sitting at his desk, papers sprawled everywhere.

"I'm glad you're settling in," Lillian said, "but don't get too comfortable yet." She dropped a printed out article on his desk in front of him.

"An attempted bank robbery yesterday. Robbers were metahumans, stopped by metahumans. I'm going to try and track these people down. It should take a few days, so when I'm gone, you should start to get yourself a proper staff."

Lillian gave John an envelope stuffed with paper.

"These are a couple of waivers. Medical wavers, legal documents, promises of confidentiality. I thought you might like to take this opportunity to seek out your own coworkers. You know what you're looking for, so your search will be more personalized."

"Fun," John said, skimming the article. "Funner," as he took the manilla envelope from Lillian.

"Do I get a private jet, too?"

Booting up the computer for the first time that day, John decided he'd best get started on his search. He'd need a geneticist, most likely. With physics as his major and biochemistry as a minor, John wasn't exactly a one-man-research-team. Of course, knowing what you want is far simpler than knowing how to get it, and John spent the morning and some of the afternoon learning this firsthand as he sent emails and left voice messages for several well-known geneticists, until hunger jerked him from his task.

With the manilla envelope in hand, he locked up the lab and got in the car he rented for business purposes. Still in possession of his envelope of cash, and with a paycheck in the near future, John decided to treat himself to lunch.

John's search for coworkers continues in Fender Bender & a Tender Member.

"And this, this is the kitchen and bar." Monty had been giving Andrei a brief tour of the lab building for the last few minutes, and aside from the lab itself, they had covered everything there was to see.

Earlier, John made his offer to Andrei, and while it took a little convincing, he and the mechanic eventually agreed it would be worth it. It would be part-time work, in a fashion; John didn't have anything for Andrei to do yet, and while that remained the case the mechanic would be working in his garage down in Wellington.

Monty walked over to the kitchen's bar, withdrawing a pair of glasses from the cupboard. He waved Andrei over and set down the glasses.

"What would you like to drink? We're celebrating our new partnership."

Andrei looked around, still taken aback by all the high-quality equipment in the lab, and it's engineering garage with almost anything he could ever want. The stylish, fully stocked kitchen was just icing on the cake - this was definitely better working conditions than he was used to.

But as he heard Monty's offer, he winced, thinking back to previous alcohol-fueled adventures.

"Uuh, I'm not totally sure it's such a great idea. I am not what you'd call a responsible drunk."

"C'mon, one drink. We're celebrating."

John reached into the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of whiskey bourbon, setting it down on the counter while he moved around the bar to drop a few icecubes in the glasses.

"It doesn't even have to be a full glass," he said, pouring just a couple fingers for Andrei and half a glass for himself. The ice diluted it slightly, but also made there seem to be more in each glass than there was.

"Cheers." Monty raised his glass.

Andrei looked a bit uneasy, then smiled and took up the offered glass.
"Well, what's one drink going to do, eh? Cheers." He clinked his glass against Johns, drained it, then made to push it away, but stopped himself. "That's... really good liquor. How much would something like that cost?"

Andrei picked up the bottle, scrutinizing it, before shrugging and pouring himself another drink.
"Alright, just one more. It's too good to let it waste!" With that, he drank his second drink of the night down, savouring the smooth spirit.

"Give me time to catch up at least." John followed Andrei's example, downing the drink quickly and pouring another immediately after.

"I figure it's pretty high end stuff, but I'm pretty liquor illiterate. Good news is that we essentially have an unlimited supply. I'm pretty sure my-- our employer restocks this cabinet."

He took the second drink a bit slower, only swallowing half the glass before setting it down and sitting himself in one of the stools.

"So, looking forward to working here?"

Andrei answered while absentmindedly pouring himself a third glass of the fantastic liquor.

"Oh, of course! I've worked in high-end shops before, but nothing with this kind of money behind it. It'll be fun to work on projects a bit bigger than a fancy gun."

He gulped down his third drink, the fantastic taste washing away his earlier misgivings.

"So uh, what sort of things are you wanting me to build, anyway? What's your research? Must be pretty impressive with all this money flying around, haha!"

"Y'know, I'm not sure yet. I just know I'll need someone around to build things when I need them. As for my research... Ah, well, it's probably rather dull to you. Genetics and such."

John's phone rang as he brought the glass back up to his mouth, but he lowered it and answered regardless of his thirst.

"Hello? This is Monty. May I ask who I'm speaking to?"

An English voice replied. "Hullo Doctor Monty. I'm representing Ohad Genetics--you inquired as to possible contract work?"

"Uh, just a moment." Monty gulped down the rest of his drink and mouthed to Andrei, 'Wait here'. He made his way into his office and dug through the small piles of papers on his desk, eventually finding the one.

"Right, Ohad Genetics. Yes, I did."

"May I inquire into the subject and duration of this research project?"

"Well, not sure how long the project will take, but the doctor will be paid hourly. The subject... It's regarding genetics and neurology, for the most part, but beyond that I can't really saaay... to you, I mean. If you can get Doctor Ohad on the line, we can discuss the details of the research itself."

"I can transfer you. One moment please."

"Good evening Mister Monty; this is Vincent Ohad speaking. You have a project that might be of interest to me?"

"Yes, I believe I do." The doctor turns on his monitor, and types in his login information. "I've been employed to-- Ah, just a moment. I'm going to transfer you to speaker and record your agreement to keep this call confidential, if that's all right... Okay, there we go. My employer requires that my research remain completely and totally secret, so this recording will serve as proof of your agreement to confidentiality. Doctor Ohad, do you agree to keep the content of this conversation utterly secret and share it with no one?"

"You have my word. I will discuss this information only with myself."

"Very good." He turned off speaker mode. "I have been employed as a private researcher to study metahuman genetics and neurology, and discover anything I can regarding it. My employer has provided me with funding appropriate to hire several more scientists to achieve this goal, hence why I have called you." He paused, giving Ohad a moment to think it over and ask any questions.

"I'm interested. New Zealand, you said? It just so happens that I'm in Australia right now. I can be by tomorrow, if that's acceptable."

Monty paused, thinking it over. "Tomorrow? Yes, tomorrow works just fine. Let me just find the address here... Be sure to call me ahead of time, as well. Here it is..."

"I'll have the paperwork ready when you get here. You'll be paid the same as everyone else."

The two doctors finished up their call, and John reclined in his chair, smiling. The rest is up to Lillian.

He went back upstairs and sat with Andrei again. "Looks like we'll have a new co-worker soon enough."

* * * * *

John spent most of the morning sitting near a window, waiting for the appearance of Doctor Ohad's car. Getting an engineer was easy enough, but Ohad was an expert in his fields; he had renown. If the doctor stuck around, Monty felt the research was going to take a step up.

John saw a car pull up in the driveway, and made his way downstairs.

Vinny hated driving. Or more specifically, he hated roads. Actually, even that's inaccurate--he was just fine with the hypothetical, platonic ideal of a road: endless, desolate, free of stop lights and soccer moms. Such a thing existed in only one place: Australia. Thrilled to have a client in the great outback, Vinny decided to fulfill a childhood dream, and take a drive down that platonic road.

Vinny also hated rentals. But renting cars isn't much of a problem if you own two Chinooks. So Vinny brought his Mercedes to Austrelia, and never had to bother with customs to boot. After visiting his client in Adelaide, he packed the car with a his body weight in alchohol and, intending to travel all the way up to Darwin, started driving North.

Unfortunately, Vinny didn't adequately prepare himself to encounter the sole inhabitant of Australia: the kangaroo. Said encounter occurred at approximately two-hundred and forty kilometers per hour. The kangaroo exploded like a grasshopper in a microwave, and Vinny's car got a smashed windshield and a new paintjob.
This happened three more times before Vinny got a call, informing him he had a new client in New Zealand. By this point, he was thankful, and called other Vinny to come pick him up in the Chinook.

And so, the great Doctor Vincent Ohad drives up to the beachfront lab in a trashed Mercedes covered in caked blood. He parks, pulls the keys out and steps onto the curb, then thinks better about taking the keys with him and just tosses them through the open windshield.

And so, dressed in a hawaiian shirt and khakis, Vinny walks up to the lab and knocks on the door.

The door swung open as soon as Vincent finished knocking. John stood on the other side, clearly having been waiting for the knock since the car pulled up. He looked the man up and down, the Mercedes finally catching his eye on the way back up. Confused, he hesitated before speaking.

"Doctor Ohad?"