Difference between revisions of "Atlantis: chapter 7"

Revision as of 10:36, 30 January 2008

And here's the next chapter in the ongoing saga (lol). Chapter seven everyone!

Please note this is a work in progress, the authors reserve the right to edit and/or re-format the book.

Chapter VII: (no title yet)

"Wake up sleepy head." A soft voice flowed through Tom's ear as he drifted back to consciousness. It was Scarlett.

"Right now?" He grumbled. Tom was not much of a morning person.

"Yep. Matt's making eggs and bacon."

"Somehow the idea of a homey meal of eggs and bacon here just turns the thought sour." Tom yawned.

Tom lifted himself on his elbow into a slouched but technically upright position. Blinking back the sleep-induced haze, he crawled out from under the thin blanket. He stumbled up to the kitchen counter of the tiny room and groped around for the coffee pot. Pouring himself a cup of the dark, cloudy black liquid, he settled down on a stool with a plate.

Matt was still in the kitchen, beating a bowl of eggs. Somehow it just seemed out of place. Matt scrambling eggs inside and firing guns and slicing with knives outside. Just odd.

Holly came and joined him after downing three cups of coffee in one sitting.

"Thanks for breakfast Matt." Holly said through a mouth full of eggs.

Tom stared at the golden, fluffy eggs with chunks of ham seeded throughout and a sprinkle of pepper on top. It reminded him so much of the time spent with his Mom, and suddenly he didn't want to be there.

"So when'd you learn to cook?" Tom finally asked.

"My mom taught me." Matt answered. "She was concerned that I would be a lifeless slob in college, and so made it her duty to educate me in household necessities."

Tom grinned, and Matt chuckled.

"She sure did a wonder on you in the fine art of putting eggs on a pan." Holly said, adopting a fancy French accent.

"I think they're great." Scarlett said.

"Glad someone appreciates my hard work." Matt said in mock indignation.

The exchange was so like old friends from elementary school. We are indeed friends from elementary, Tom reflected.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Asked Scarlett after a moment.

"Well, I thou-" Holly began.

Tom's comm link vibrated. He walked over to the headset, which was sitting on a table beside his bed, and fit it over his head. The visual-audio system let him view Dr. Shang's pale, thin features in vivid detail.

"Sorry to wake you, Mr. Lane, but you are needed in my office. Bring the rest of the company with you." He said, then closed the link.

"Looks like our rest is short lived." Tom groaned.

"We'd better go see what he wants." Matt grunted, then tossed his plate into the trash.

All four of them piled into a lift and ascended to the top floor. A secretary was awaiting them as they got off the large, open elevator and crossed the threshold to the top commanding offices.

"Follow me this way please." She said. Her breath was tinged with a spearmint twang.

They were shown into a office adorned with plush black leather couches and tall, wiry lamps. A small, cozy fake fire was glowing from one wall. The lamps threw ought harsh LED white light, the only portion of the office out of place. Numerous military decorations decorated the wall above a richly adorned mahogany desk. Thick oriental rugs carpeted the floor. Hanging above the medals and Doctor degrees was a set of ceremonial Wakazashi Japanese sword-daggers.

Tom cast a glance at the finery and decided he'd rather stand. The rest of the crew apparently agreed, for they all stood beside Tom.

"Please, take a seat," Dr. Shang drawled.