"BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BEEP! BEEP! BUZZ! BUZZ! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"The alarm screeched, violently ripping the young boy out of his dreams and thrusting him back into the cold, clean cell that was his bed room. Swinging his legs over the edge, the boy sat up, squinting against the eerie green flashes of light that illuminated his room. In another thirty seconds, the alarm would stop, and his room would be lit by the same eerie glow from above, though with less intensity. The boy inserted two fingers into the wall, grabbing hold of a well hidden latch, sliding the wall out of the way to reveal a small, cramped closet space. There were two drawers at the bottom, further limiting the space. Along the top was a wrack of hangars, each adorned with an three identical, white uniform, each with a green band on the left arm, a white cog in the center. The uniform was a single piece of clothing, designed to cover the entire body, save for the hands, feet, and head. He stepped into the only clothing he had ever known, grabbing hold of the small, interlocking mechanism near the crotch, and pulling it all the way up to his clavicle.
Only to his clavicle. He would not bring it all the way up to his neck, for he was a
rebel.
In another sixty seconds, the door would slide open, and he would be forced out into the world he knew. But for now, he was free to put on his required footwear, though he intentionally laced them improperly.
Because he was a rebel. As the door slid open with precise timing, the boy exited... only to have it malfunction and try to shut on him. This had been expected, and the boy spun as he left, twisting his body out of the way just in time. Turning to face the stark white hallway he found himself in, the boy fell in line with the other children, each with their own uniforms and required footwear. The boy's name... was irrelevant. On the cuff of his right sleeve was a barcode that contained all the information relevant to the future employee of Hypothetical Physics Logistics Corporation. He and his peers were marched down the hall to their classes, kept watch by HPL Corp.'s own security team, donned in similar uniforms, though theirs were reinforced, and were green with black bands. In these classrooms the children would learn all they needed to become productive members of the HPL family, taught by individuals who had been meticulously hand picked by HPL's highest ranking members.
Because they cared. All the while the children's parents were hard at work, running power plants, constructing weapons, researching new technologies, or simply doing the menial grunt work that allowed the corporation to flourish, and with it, society. It was a hard, unforgiving job, regardless of which sector they had been assigned to. It was not a thankless one, however. The laborers, engineers, botanists, and medical professionals were all well compensated with free housing, three free meals a day, and a small chip implanted into the back of their right hand that allowed the to purchase goods using digital credit that was loaned to them for an honest day's work. It was a paradise the likes of which only the oldest and most senile among them dared question.
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Meanwhile, in the the Kraft Science Facility that had been built around Singapore's capitol building, the true leaders of the nation convened to discuss the affairs of state. Doctor Penny Kraft, daughter of Harley Kraft and CEO of HPL entered the stark, white conference room. Many believed her relation to HPL's originator had guaranteed her ascension to power. This couldn't be further from the truth. The genetic donor of roughly forty five percent of Penny's DNA had never been a mother, only a business woman. She would rather die and take the planet with her than appoint an unworthy successor. Every moment of Penny's life she had been compared to experts, every achievement worth nothing if it could not beat her competitions. Harley Kraft had not given birth to a daughter, but rather, had created a monster. Smarter, colder, able to be more ruthless than her predecessor ever was.
As Penny Kraft sat down at the round, white conference table, she cast a calculating eye across the assembled officials. When her mother had first started the company, they were all native citizens of Singapore, willing to work longer, harder, and for far less pay than any American. As soon as HPL hit it big, they had been downsized, every one of them, in order to make way for the experts from countries that could afford higher education. Now the pendulum had swung back, as almost everyone in the room was a native citizen of Singapore, groomed from birth to be the top minds in their respective fields. Dr. Kraft expanded her lungs, creating a vacuum that pulled air in through her nasal passages. She held this cocktail of gasses trapped within her for exactly one second before slowly releasing it back out of her nostrils in a heavy sigh.
"Alright, let's get down to it. Super Intendent Jiàoyù, how are our future scientists doing?" She asked as if inquiring about the state of a vegetable garden. "Excellent, ma'am!" The man named Jiàoyù answered proudly. "The children are incredibly receptive to our sixteen hour education program! The few that deviate from the curriculum are quickly singled out by their peers, discouraging any kind of rebellious nature. In the rare case that they're unable to quell themselves, the trouble maker is immediately medicated to remove their harmful influence from the student body."
Dr. Kraft nodded silently, unphased by this good news.
"Mr. Qián, how is funding?" She asked, sliding her eyes over to the next person in the line up. "Very good, ma'am. Everyone has exactly as much money as they need to do their jobs, no more, no less." Qián answered dutifully. A nervous man, he tried to hide his emotions when under the cold gaze of his CEO. Fortunately, his answer seemed adequate, as Dr. Kraft's piercing gaze shifted to the woman next to him.
"Dr. Yánjiū?" The woman cleared her throat. It was a bad career move to be the bearer of bad news, but an even worse one to hide it from her superiors. "Just a few hours ago, Brazil announced the existence of an orbital space station named the Stella Maris. It's stated purpose is to act as an early warning system in the event of another visitation. However, while some of it is powered using our technologies, we make up a very small part of the station's design. Further more, the Brazilian government was adamant in their refusal to allow our engineers to work on it. I believe it utilizes a type of technology we are unfamiliar with, one that could potentially be a problem if we don't unlock it's secrets within the next few weeks."
Mr. Qián placed his forehead in his hand, rubbing it slowly as the head of Research and Development spoke her next words. "Due to the nature of the problem, I believe we will need more funding for... inside help." "This is ridiculous!" Qián spat, his nerves finally getting the best of him. "Research is YOUR job! We can't keep handing out checks every time you find a new toy to study!" Yánjiū knew better than to speak out of turn, however, and simply gritted her teeth as the shaking official continued to berate her. "If you had done your job in the first place, they wouldn't have been able to work on this damned station, let alone launch i-"
"Mr. Qián." Dr. Kraft interjected sternly. Qián's blood froze in his veins as his CEO's eyes locked onto his.
"You will wait for Dr. Yánjiū to finish her report." This was not a command, but rather a statement of fact.
"Y-yes ma'am." He stammered. "Of course. My sincerest apologies, Dr. Yánjiū." The idea of having to answer to these...
women would have infuriated Qián, had he not strangled his pride years ago.
After thanking Dr. Kraft, Yánjiū continued. "We also have reports of increased cases of mutation in both Brazil and Paris. We have a team of chemists devoted to creating a cure for it. Currently, the best candidate is Compound D4-G0-N. It has been observed to help fend against mutation and even alleviate some of the more minor symptoms, however, it requires repeated use in higher and higher quantities. Those who stop using it suffer withdrawals and often exhibit signs of increased mutation. Finally, we've begun development of an experimental weapon that fires syringe tipped cartridges at over five thousand rounds per minute. We plan to sell these as Anti-Mutant weapons to any nation or military complex capable of purchasing them. The guns have low accuracy and a high rate of jamming, with a 15% likelihood to misfire, however, the cartridges are filled with a chemical similar to Compound D4-G0-N that has been dubbed White-Lie. It reacts harshly to langium, dissolving any langium based material it comes into contact with. For this reason, it's important that the bullets be longer than average, to allow for space between the White Lie and the langium caps." Dr. Kraft allowed the room to sit in silence for exactly two seconds before speaking.
"Proceed with your cure and weaponry as planned. In the meantime, I want you to find out what makes this Stella Martis tick. We can't have an unknown technology floating around, and we certainly can't risk someone else spotting a potential Re-Visitation before we do. Go through the government if you have to, it's all their good for anymore. Mr. Qián, I expect you'll give Dr. Yánjiū your complete cooperation." "Yes ma'am!" was the only response out of him. They continued their discussions for another fifty-five minutes exactly. When the meeting was concluded, Dr. Kraft dismissed her officials. Standing up, she placed her hands behind her back and began to slowly, slowly, pace around the large, circular room. Each step echoed, though she didn't hear them. She was deep in thought. This Brazilian space station troubled her. How did anyone manage to design, construct, and launch an orbital space station without her knowing. What kind of secrets did it hold?
What do they know that I don't? 
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