Fog

The entire city is fogged over today, as if dawn never came. I sit in my office staring out the window at the Bay and the big ghostly cargo ships that float through the mist. I yawn. It’s almost noon and I’ve already done everything I needed to do today and visited all of the blogs and websites I usually go to in a given day. I’m thinking of busting out the laptop and playing some Age of Mythology to kill some time.

I’m sort of keeping an eye out for the Pomeranian warship that’s due in Evergreen City today. The U.S. has lifted sanctions against Pomerania and is now allowing their ships to dock in U.S. ports for the first time in 12 years. I guess they promised not to invade Denmark again. Never trust a country run by a supervillain, that’s what I say. Anyway, it’s due in port today and I want to see it. I might take a long lunch and go down to Pier 53 if it comes in. What can I say, I like military hardware; I’m a geek.

Speaking of hardware, back at home in the Secret Chamber my audio suite is recording telemetry from the KOMA probe I planted on that cop last night. I’m looking forward to picking up a gyros from Ravi’s on the way home and kicking it in the Chamber (see post The Batcave II, 9/1/04) and listening to the Paracrime Unit cry about how badly I schooled them. Shit like that makes me feel warm inside.

Lacking anything better to do, I go get more coffee, say hi to Margo (who is wearing a low-cut black knit sweater with pearl buttons over a cream colored blouse), then head over to one of the little lounge/informal meeting areas on the Ninth Floor. This one has a view looking north to the Bay, where I can see the Pomeranian ship drifting in through the fog.

I can’t remember the name of the ship, but I do know that it’s a French-made La Fayette frigate that’s been modified for anti-submarine warfare. It’s a sleek futuristic looking warship, designed for stealth with smooth surfaces and very little clutter. It’s kind of cool seeing a Pomeranian ship –the Cold War enemy- in port. Maybe they’re here to annex Evergreen City. Actually, that’s not that improbable, given recent events. Maybe I should snoop around tonight…

Aaron Clarke, one of the mysterious directors of The Company’s QuantumWorks project, walks down the hall towards his office with a cup of coffee, talking to a guy in a bright yellow radiation suit.

“Mr. Mackenzie,” Clarke says in greeting as he walks by. I nod.

As they pass I smell… what is that? I smell bacon cooking. And fabric softener.

I watch Clarke and the guy in the hazmat suit go into his office and shut the door.

Hey, I think to myself, a guy in a radiation suit just walked through your office. That’s not normal. I look around. Nobody else seems disturbed, or even looks like they noticed.

I take my coffee and go back to my office.