Sentient "Red"

Prologue I: Major

"Dr. Archie! Dr. Archie!" I called out as I rushed past my coworkers, my sneakers giving me the agility needed to dodge the faculty that was in the way. Various glass windows to my right gave light to a large city called DC. The large white Legislative Building was in view while smaller buildings surrounded it.

The results just came in, our project is starting have some promising outcomes.

I turned the corner and raced down, almost slipping on the tile floors of the Institute of Services and Scientific Practices or ISSP building. If only Archie had stayed a second longer for the computer to spit out the data, maybe I wouldn't be chasing after him like an idiot. I'm going to make millions once the company gets these machines out there; hell, I may even get a promotion and become the Vice President of this corporation.

After years of work, things are starting to pay off. The project is finally cooperating with the new codes Dr. Archie and I wrote, it's reacting to the simulations, and it even managed to make the best MockChicken nuggets I've tasted. Maybe I'll have my own McDawnals if the project puts the CEO of McIndustries out of business. The betterment of humanity is coming, and the world will know my name. I could hear the world cheer now:

Collivin!

Collivin!

Collivin!

The greatest founding father of modern services!

Out of nowhere, a janitor sluggishly pushes a cleaning cart from an intersecting hall while listening to music. I end up colliding into the cart. The thing flips onto its side as I face-plant into the floor; my folder flying out of my hands. A loud crack can be heard and I knew what caused it.

I get up and pull my glasses away from my face, trying to inspect it despite having horrible vision; they were cracked for sure, but not shattered thankfully. I put my glasses back on; I look at my folder, chalked up with my amazing ground breaking results, to see the papers had flied out of it dispersed across the floor with some blue liquid everywhere and soaking into my things.

"Are—Are you ok, sir?!" the janitor questions with concern as he comes over to me.

"Am I ok? Yeah, I feel great actually; I'm so glad that Down dish soap is now all over totally not important files," I rolled my eyes. I rubbed my face with pain; there's probably going to be a huge bruise or something tomorrow. 

"It's L-Lysal," the janitor corrected me quietly

"Whatever, you ruined my papers, you bastard!" I snapped at the low-wage maintenance employee. I get up and brush myself off to see the blue shit is on my lab coat; I turned to the guy and jabbed a finger at his sternum. "If corporate doesn't know what to do with you, I sure as hell do," I spat.

These people are exactly why robotic assets are needed, they could replace the absolute nuisances of the maintenance department faculty.

"I-I'm so sorry, I just didn't see you coming, sir," the janitor apologized.

"Maybe if you hadn't been listening to music on those damn headphones of yours, we wouldn't have had an issue," I snarled. I could see him shrinking from under me, and to be honest, it felt pretty good letting off some steam after years of failed experiments and no results after trails.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise this—this won't happen next time," he assured.

"Well there won't be a next time once I'm finished with you," I scolded.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I rise my head and turn my head back. Dr. Archie stood from behind me, his silver framed glasses shone with light from the ceiling luminants above.

"That's enough Dr. Collivin," he told off in a tired tone.

I just huffed as I got down to collect my wet papers; my face cringing at the site of the Lysal dripping from the documents. I overhear Dr. Archie speaking with the employee while helping him get the cart upright.

"Be careful next time, ok?" Archie reminds the janitor in a calm manner. 

"Of course; thank you so much, sir," he said with gratitude before pulling out a mop and cleaning up the blue liquid. I hear Dr. Archie walk over to me, bending down and assisting me with collecting the papers.

"You didn't have to be so hard on him, he was just trying to do his job," Archie pointed out, "and from what I heard, you were the one who ran into him."

"He came out of nowhere! How is it my fault that he was too distracted to see me?" I said in defense. Dr. Archie sighs and shook his head; he packed the wet papers together and handed it to me.

"Always the victim, aren't you?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" I replied

"Nothing. So what was it that made you run all the way down the hallway, screaming my name like a lunatic, and hit someone?" he recalled as he stood up straight and held out a hand to me. I took the hand and got to my feet with the half-dry/half-wet folder.

"I just got results back after our recent trials; you won't believe what our data tables are showing," I inform with excitement as I go through the documents in my folder and hand him a laminated sheet of paper. Archie took it into his hands and examined it, I saw him put a hand up to his chin and grin. 

"This is great news, but let's talk in my office," he said and handed the file back to me. I raised an eyebrow as I tucked the paper back into the folder.

"Why?" I questioned.

"We need to keep it on the down-low until we get everything right," he explained. "You know how this company is, using things the second they can."

"But shouldn't we tell the secretary—"

"Gian, listen to me when I say this," Archie interrupts. He looks around and leans into my ear, "ISSP isn't who you think they are; they could save this planet and end world hunger, but they'll have to pull a couple hundred— if not thousands— of strings to do that."

I stare out the glass wall into the smoggy city, the rooftops of the buildings covered with carbon monoxide and sulfur residue. Despite this place being the capital, it's still as depressing as the rest of the world; yet what millions of people call home.

But I know one day, one day we can leave this dying blue and green planet.

"And sometimes... they didn't mean to end world hunger; it was one of the small outcomes of their actions," Archie continued.

"What do you mean?" I whispered back.

"What I mean is, ISSP doesn't give a shit about you, me," he leaned back up again, " or the rest of this god forsaken world."