Genova (Re-uploaded after editing)

Chapter 8

I continued people-watching for the next half hour or so. It was interesting to see all the various kinds of people that were out on a weekend evening. There were beautiful women, dressed in fancy gowns walking down the street accompanied by men in nice suits, on their way towards—what I assumed—was a performance at one of the few concert halls throughout the ring. There were also teenagers, fresh out of school and excited for the independence of adulthood. There were bedraggled adults donned in collared shirts and rumpled ties, tired from a long day at work. And then there were the elderly, out living their best lives. Old couples, walked hand-in-hand down the street, waving and talking cheerfully to anyone who would wave back. And then there was Damien... He caught my eye, not because he's Zuri's boyfriend now, but because he was clearly trying to avoid being stopped.

He was walking fast, avoiding eye contact with people, with a look of determination cemented on his face, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he went, he paid no mind to who he pushed out of his way, dodging some individuals while plowing through others and groups. It was strange to me, for him to appear in such a bad mood right after a date. I watched him move, and had to make a decision fast before he left my view—do I follow him, or let him go and forget about it?

He could just have received bad news. Maybe he's annoyed that he has to work late. I ignored these thoughts and stood up, determined to follow him. As he wove through the crowds, his height preventing him from easily dodging people, I quickly caught up to him and used my shortness to stay hidden behind him. Where he pushed through people, I ducked through them, dodging grocery bags and briefcases. He walked for a while down this road, annoying the people he barged through as he went, and then finally turned off the main road and down a side street towards the factories. I stopped at the corner, watching him go down the alleyway before he turned off and I quietly ran after him, my bare feet making little sound on the metal floor.

I paused again at the alleyway he had turned down and carefully looked around the corner. He was standing facing a person—a scientist by the looks of the labcoat—and they were talking. I strained my ears to hear what was being said.

"How's it going?" the scientist asked, "has she made any progress?"

"No," Damien responded, handing the scientist a packet of papers. The scientist looked them over carefully, spending several minutes flipping through the pages in the dim light of the alleyway.

"This is perfect. I'll send this to my lab right away. Maybe this time we'll get results."

"On that note—" Damien said, "I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. Do you think you could hurry?"

"You can't speed up science."

"Well, could I get my pay early at least? It's costing a fortune to keep making bad engines for her."

"This is what you signed up for. You'll get your pay when I get results. Get a second job if you can't afford to keep her stumped."

"Fine," Damien said and turned to walk in my direction. I bolted out of the alley, silently running back to the bench I was sitting on earlier.

One would think that the scientists would want to get along and help each other, and for the most part, they do. Science labs frequently share information with each other freely, allowing for multiple laboratories to work on each other's findings to improve or correct them. However, there are a few scientists who are obsessed with credit. Rather than allowing inventions and ideas to be for the common good, they seek to receive credit and fame for their work, and based on what I could tell, this is what that scientist—or perhaps their entire lab—wanted, and they were paying Damien to keep Zuri from making any discoveries before they can do it first and take credit for her work.