Things were pretty darn okay when it came to The Lab those days.
I did what the Megaleioths affectionately referred to as
'business-y stuff,' and got to see some pretty neat things. We'd
indeed made kittens that glowed, along with a full grown cat that
spoke, though the majority of what he had to say was filled with
There were gizmos that looked like they'd come straight from the future, and several variations of the flying car I'd seen before. There was food in the form of pills and liquids that could eat through almost everything. Needless to say, I was fairly entertained with the things the scientists and engineers were eager to share with me. I noticed they seemed to be looking to me for approval almost constantly.
I received less dirty looks than I did when Paul was alive, but there was still a touch of uneasiness in everyone's face. I was new, foreign, unknown. An intruder of sorts. But, I was also The Boss, and that made a lot of difference.
The Megaleioths and I talked and talked, about almost anything. It was practically starving for information about me, and I wondered whether it could feed off whatever it learned. As Paul had foretold, I spent most of my time in my office, staring at the wall or out the window at the world below.
Kumar appeared to notice a sudden change in me, and he often asked whether I was sick. I actually felt really good those days, but to try and explain it to him was an impossible idea. It was almost as if I was high on the pure power of the Megaleioths. I could do whatever I wanted (so long as the Megaleioths approved) and receive little to no consequences. That can get to a person's head pretty quickly.
In fact, I might have just saved myself from utter ruin by doing what I did next, which actually did have consequences, and acted as a sort of wake-up call. Towards the middle of October, only a week or so away from Halloween, I defied the Megaleioths.
Down, deep in the forgotten areas of South America, a sickness was born. Not just any sickness either. This one ate away at a person until there was nothing left. On the outside, there was no visible sign of trouble aside from dark shadows under a person's eyes and a sudden loss of weight. But on the inside, everything was at war.
This disease had little trouble finding its way to the United States, though it only became big news on the first of August. The news papers and reporters proclaimed that there was mass death thanks to what they called 'yawning sickness' because of its tendency to make a person extremely exhausted. That was around the time the Megaleioths began to whisper in the ears of the doctors of The Lab, as well as my own.
Pasteur quickly took up the challenge, though they were less skilled in the ways of medicine. None the less, they made it out to seem like we were neck and neck in this race to find something to at least slow the yawning sickness down. Heisenberg eagerly went along with it, for fun if nothing else.
The weeks went by with little success from either side. I was beginning to lose faith in the Megaleioths just when one of our top scientists made a break through. It wasn't a cure, but it set us one step ahead of Pasteur. And, somehow, the public found out.
This did not trouble the 'friend' of mine who sometimes gave me nightmares for the heck of it. Let them have some hope. It said. Hope keeps us in business.
So I let the doctors unveil the news to everyone every time we found something new about this sickness. And people really did start hoping. Letters were sent from around the globe just to tell us how much everyone appreciated the work we were doing. Pasteur faded into the background by the end of August, since now everyone's attention was on the lab that was finding a cure faster than you could say coulrophobia.
September came with a vengeance. Storms of enormous size and hurricanes on the coasts were plentiful. An earthquake struck California with devastating effects. And I got a letter.
It was silly, but in a nice sort of way. There was a side note from the little girl's parents explaining everything to me, but I personally preferred Jamie's. It looked like she'd put a lot of thought into this particular letter, perhaps even taking days judging from the state of the paper. The note from her parents claimed she had a slight mental retardation (information I didn't find necessary), and she was far enough behind in 'shool' without the yawning sickness.
This put a new goal in front of my eyes, dulling all others in contrast. I was going to get Jamie back in school, and nothing could stand in my way.