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Shift: Part 2

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*

Elizabeth Davis hissed as she stepped on something sharp on the floor of the training room. She backed off it and bent to pick it up, looking at it in surprise. In her hand was a rough-hewn ring of what seemed like obsidian, peppered with chunks of white stone.

“Oa,” she called to her copilot. “Check this out.”

The small japanese man turned from where he was practicing with a bamboo sword and quirked an eyebrow. “What?” he asked as he padded over.

Look at what I found,” she said, holding it out to him. “It looks sort of valuable. I wonder who dropped it.”

Oa took the ring with a frown and turned it over in his hands. “...It’s ugly.”

“Oh, I dunno. I think it’s cool. It looks kinda… raw. Like, organic almost.”

"...Nope,” he said after a moment, handing it back to his copilot. “It’s just ugly.”

“You’re just contrary. I bet someone’s looking for it. I’ll send out an email or something, I think.”

“Good idea. That way, I’ll know who to not go to for fashion advice.”

“Fashion advice?” Elizabeth scoffed. “You have like, three shirts.”

Oa shrugged. “And if I ever have the urge to buy a fourth, the owner of that ring will not be helping me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well I like it. So shush, you.”

“Looks like I won’t be needing your advice, either,” he said with a smirk, padding back over to the practice area.

Elizabeth shook her head and pocketed the jewellery.

Newt shoved his hands into his pockets as he eyed Hannibal’s apothecary somewhat uncertainly.

He managed to make it in one piece, although he’d had a bit of trouble on the way. One of the guards had given him quite the scare. When he entered, he didn’t even need to show the cashier his identification; Apparently, making it past the new security system was proof enough.

He nodded at the weaselly man as the shelves parted and he trotted through into the den of crime.

Hannibal standing in the center of the room, admiring his lackeys’ work with keen, hawk like eyes. His back turned to the door. Newt cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly.

The crime lord glanced over his shoulder. “I should’ve known you’d be the first one to make it past my new guards,” he drawled boredly, though his shoes clicked menacingly as he turned to face Newt.

“What can I say?” the biologist said with a shrug. “I’m determined.”

“Disgustingly so. What do you want?”

“Kaijan,” Newt said. “We don’t have record of any local occurrences, and I can’t seem to get my hands on… legit international samples.”

Hannibal looked the biologist over. “Of course you haven’t. Anyone who’s ever managed to get their hands on one holds a freaking gold mine.”

“I need one,” Newt said. “I can’t research Kaijan if I don’t have Kaijan to research.”

Chau shrugged and clicked over to one of his lackey’s stations. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have one.”

“But you know how to get one,” Newt said, following him. “Or part of one, anyways.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re Hannibal Chau. You’re the most connected, most influential trader of black market goods in the world. The only way I could see you not being able to get something is that thing not actually existing. And even then you could probably figure out a way.”

Chau smirked. “Good point. Still, I can’t get you any, kid. Not even with that military budget of yours.” Newt frowned. “Why?”

“Because this one’s out of my control. Maybe if there’d been one more local, then we could talk.”

“You don’t have anything I could use? Not a single thing?”

Chau sighed heavily. “I don’t know what you’re looking for exactly, kid. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” He paused, then whistled to one of his workers. “You’ve been around here enough. Go with him and see if you find something you like. Don’t. Touch. Anything,” he growled, pointing a finger at the biologist. “Call me over when you’ve found something.”

“Great, thanks.” Newt couldn’t hide the excitement in his expression or step as the lackey led him farther back into the hub.

“Moron,” Hannibal muttered as he turned to click into his office.

Newt looked at Hannibal’s store of samples with interest, glad to get his hands on new material. Wait… he peered closer at a muscle sample. This was new material. Too new. He frowned and looked at the size of the pieces. They were almost mason-jar size. Freaking tiny for a Kaiju. “Where did he get these?” Newt demanded of the lackey.

He shrugged. “I do not know. I just process it,” he replied blandly.

“Come on, he’s gotta get them from somewhere. If you don’t know, who would?”

“No one. Mister Chau does not let anyone know where he gets his samples now.”

Newt thought about that. “... Well then. Where’s Chau? He and I need to talk.”

“Busy. You cannot speak with him right now.”

“I can wait.”

“You will be waiting with holes in your head, then,” the lackey said.

Newt tried very hard to hide how terrified he suddenly became as he shrugged and leaned on the wall.

The lackey sighed. “Would you please just find something and go? Your stubbornness will equal my head.”

“I’ll just come back tomorrow,” Newt said with another shrug. He made to head for the door.

He paled. As annoying as Newt was, Chau had made it very clear that he was one of his better customers, especially since he had access to the inner Shatterdome. Apparently, the consequences of losing an immediate sale were more frightening than the lackey would like to endure. “Wait,” he called.

Newt paused. “Waiting,” he said with a quirked eyebrow.

“It’s in the back room. I cannot take you, but if you truly wish to see it I will turn a blind eye.”He headed back towards the main room. “I told you nothing.”

Newt shrugged. “Okay.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he slipped down the hallway. He didn’t know what he expected to find. A processor, perhaps, or some sort of grotesque, mutilated corpse. But whatever he expected… It wasn’t this. Newt felt bile rise in his throat as he looked at the scene before him. The Kaijan, its violet-blue, bioluminescent designs pulsing weakly in the low light of the room, was strapped to the table with steel cuffs; the ends of needle like spires just visible between the metal and its wrists, ankles, tail and tentacles. Two of the tentacles had darkened streaks of scar tissue on them. Glowing blood oozed into wells carved into the table so that it dripped into bags and either circulated back through needles in the thing’s major arteries, or were collected for other purposes. Its thighs and upper shins were slitted, the edges of the incisions jagged and uneven from having to cut through its thick, bony obsidian scales. Smooth, dark navy muscle webbed in pulsing violet veins and tendons were laid out to the open, some cut loose and quivering ever so slightly from the blow of the air conditioning. Areas of muscles were pulled away from bare bone, pockmarks littering the bloody alabaster surface from where holes were drilled to its marrow. Its torso was opened in the characteristic Y-shaped vivisection of an autopsy that was much neater than the cuts on its legs, the rough, pebbly skin pinned back like grotesque wings, overlapping where Hannibal had its actual wings stapled down from its scaled arms. Flagged needles stuck up from various organs and exposed parts of the body. Somehow, its heart was still beating, the exposed muscle the most disturbing part of the scene.

When five of its still present, electrified pale violet eyes landed blearily on Newt, it snarled and tried to pull itself free of its restraints. The pins in its limbs drew more blood as its claws screeched over the metal surface.

“No, nononono stop, shhh. Don’t hurt yourself,” Newt murmured soothingly as he raised his hands and backed up. “Shh.” He looked at it with eyes wide in awe and disgust.

It hissed and spat bloody, violet-blue saliva at him, still tugging. One of its scarred tentacles shredded free and it froze, back arched as much as it could, with a snarl of pain.

Newt debated furiously for a moment before dashing over to where Hannibal had left out a bottle of antiseptic. He dribbled a little bit onto a cotton ball and turned to the Kaijan, biting his lip.

It grew agitated again, trying to yank on of its arms free and whacking the elongated, hammerhead like bony protrusion that grew from its brow against the table in the process.

Newt grimaced before he darted in close to the creature’s side and gently grabbed the flailing tentacle. He carefully dabbed the substance on its injury. He bit his lip and looked at the creature’s undignified state. He felt a rush of anger and without thinking, he reached over and began easing out the flagged pins, setting them on a tray.

The Kaijan stopped its struggling for a moment, keeping up its steady warning growl as it panted.

Newt noticed, but didn’t miss a beat, continuing to steadily remove the pins. He murmured quiet encouragements to the creature as he went. “Shh. You’re doing great, see? It’s gonna be okay.”

It continued to rumble at the biologist, narrowing its eyes in distrust.

Newt removed the last of the pins in its organs and went over to the ones holding open the hide of its chest. He examined them to make sure there were no barbs or hooks that would do more harm than good when removed.

“What did I say about touching?” Hannibal asked coldly from the door, the lackey that gave Newt the information standing just behind him.

Newt froze. “You said not to touch your samples, Mr Chau. You said nothing about the torture victim you were keeping in a closet.”

“I said don’t touch anything. And that counts as anything, Doc,” he growled, clicking over to the biologist. “In fact, this Kaijan is my main sample. So touching it is the worst thing you could do.”

The creature’s growl rose to a shriek of rage as Chau came closer. Its started thrashing again.

“Oh, shut up!” Chau shouted, scooping up a needle and jamming it into the thing’s neck.

Its protests subsided into dazed whimpers as he emptied the substance into its bloodstream.

Newt watched in revulsion.

The crime lord glared down at him. “Oh would you wipe that look off your face? It’s just a damn Kaiju.”

“Yeah, with pain receptors and an intelligent mind.” Newt shook his head.

“Who care? These sons of bitches tried to wipe us off the face of the Earth.” He took the needle and poked one of the muscles in the still exposed cavity. “What’s the harm in making a profit off of’em?’

The Kaijan sneered drearily and whimpered.

“You could have at least had the decency to kill it first,” Newt said, cringing at the almost pitiable sound.

Hannibal scoffed. “Kill it? This thing’s got one of the highest tissue regeneration rates I’ve ever seen! Killing it would defeat the purpose.”

“I’ll buy it off you,” Newt said suddenly.

Chau laughed. “I told you, kid. These things are a gold mine! You wouldn’t have enough money if you were the richest man alive.”

“I… can get you Mechtech. Information on neural links and how to build a successful drift generator. I can give you projections on how we think these things will attack and when the next wave should come through. As well as money.”

“...Keep talking.”

“Um… I know how to get a Shatterdome scanner. You could listen to conversations between LOCCENT and the pilots and know where a Kaiju was coming ashore before anyone else.”

Hannibal paused. “....You sure you’re not just blowing smoke, kid?”

“I’m sure. Just… promise me that you won’t keep one alive like this again, okay? It’s just wrong. Promise me that, and I’ll get you everything I told you I would.”

Chau’s mouth curled into a grin that would be better suited on the Cheshire Cat. “Course,” he agreed, holding out his hand.

Newt shook. Hansen was going to kill him.

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