“Sandra, I don’t tolerate failure,” the man said, voice unnaturally low. “You know this.”

Lanky, though not in a sickly way, the man reclined in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. A scowl appeared to be carved on his long face, the very idea of a smile foreign to his thin lips. The intercom on his desk flashed, a dull red light indicating a caller on the other line.

A woman’s voice, lacking in both confidence and emotion, spoke. “I apologize for the delays, Mr. Masters. I assure you, we are getting closer to obtaining the subject. I realize we are getting closer to the deadline, but I can guarantee you, things will follow the plan without any more complications.”

The man rose from his chair and paced the office. His eyes wandered to the front of his desk where a golden plaque -- emblazoned with his name and title in dark black letters -- clung to the reddish mahogany.

Gerome, F. Masters, CEO of NewGenics inc.

Gerome cleared his throat while straightening his tie in a mirror. “Ms. Collins, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding something from me. But you wouldn’t ever hide anything from me, would you my dear?”

The venom in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Nevertheless, Sandra contained her fear and steadied her speech -- barely. “Agent Freeman denied our request once again, sir. It seems there is no swaying him into working for us.”

Gerome sighed, picking a piece of lint out of his short, snow white hair. “Pity. Agent Freeman would have made a fine member of our organization. Such a shame to see all that talent go to waste. Proceed with the plan. Mr. Freeman has made his decision.”

“Yes sir. Right away.”

After an awkward silence, Gerome continued, “Oh, and be a dear and have the boys from the lab send me some WD-40 for my leg.”

“Right away sir. Will that be all?” she asked, eager to be dismissed.

“Yes, Sandra. Goodbye.” Gerome terminated the intercom session.

Rubbing his temples, Gerome sighed and reclined into his chair. He hefted his right leg onto the table and pulled back the pant leg. Instead of flesh and blood, a robotic limb met his gaze. Gears and metallic joints whirred inside the prosthesis, emanating heat -- electrical rather than biochemical.

With an expression of absent mindedness, he ran his fingers along the rivets, edges, and smooth bumps. Though his current limb excelled in many ways, he occasionally missed the feel of real skin.

Snapping out of his reverie, Gerome stood and walked to the mini bar, allowing his pant leg to fall back into place. He grabbed a glass, filled it with scotch on ice, and sipped while returning to his desk. The intercom button once more met his finger.

After a crackle, a man’s voice spoke. “Mr. Masters?”

“Jameson, I’m assigning you to be Sandra’s help,” Gerome said. “The mission has taken a slight deviation, and I need to make sure it still goes mostly according to plan. Nothing can get in my way. Absolutely nothing.”



“Michelle, please, get out of the way!” shouted Joe, his girlfriend’s massive right arm sitting before him, an immovable mass of flesh and bone. Michelle glanced down at him and raised her arm.

“Sorry, Joe,” she said through a mouthful of eggs and toast. Joe said nothing as he walked towards a plate that sat in the center of the table. A plate that seemed to glow in Joe’s eyes, as if the gods themselves had blessed it. Greasy, shimmering strips of godly deliciousness sat on the plate, longer that he was tall. Their smell was intoxicating, and Joe felt drawn to them, like he was in some sort of hypnotic trance. The smell, the sight, the sound of their crispness, a sound not unlike that of applause.

Bacon. Sweet, savory glorious BACON!

Joe took a piece off and bit into it, his mouth watering the whole time. Even with the slightly diluted flavor, the bacon still tasted amazing.

“It’s so beautiful,” Joe said, his mouth still full of the savory meat. Michelle rolled her eyes as she swallowed another mouth full of eggs.

“It’s just bacon, Joe, why do you get so obsessive over it?” she said, and Joe turned to her, his eyes wide.

“Just bacon? JUST bacon!? Bacon is not JUST bacon, it’s… well look at it! It doesn’t need an explanation,” he said, gesturing to the plate.

“How they managed to take a pigs ass and make it taste so delicious, I will never know. But I’m not complaining!” he said, and shoved another piece into his mouth, savoring the flavor as best he could.

“That’s what bacon’s made of? Ew gross!” said Michelle, throwing the bacon off her plate and onto Joe’s. He shrugged and kept chewing.

“More for me!” he said. Michelle sighed and took one last bite of her breakfast, wiped her mouth, and sat back. Joe was still chowing down on the bacon, somehow still hungry. She stood up and made her way over to the sink, putting her dish in the warm soapy water.

“Where are you putting all of it?” she asked, laughing at her tiny boyfriends insatiable appetite. Joe didn’t answer, but he did give a little shrug. Smiling, she continued to wash the dishes, putting some leftovers in the fridge for later. Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door. Wiping off her hands with a dishtowel, she took a deep breath and looked down at Joe, who was wiping his face and swallowing another piece of bacon.

“You sure about this Joe? I mean, I’m sure we can come up with an excuse or something,” said Michelle, and Joe shook his head.

“No, I’ve made my decision. She’s your sister, Michelle, and she’s already involved in this, just not as much as she realizes.” Joe stood up and walked to the edge of the table. Michelle sighed and knelt down so her face was level with Joe’s. Though he never complained, she got the feeling he didn’t feel as nervous around her when she wasn’t looming over him. He stood before her, just far enough from her that she could see him, yet close enough that he could feel her warm breath washing over him.

“And besides, I’m tired of hiding this from everyone. It’s time I start trusting more people with my secret. Mary already knows something is up, considering she’s discovered what my pills are made of. And if I know your sister like I think I do, she’s not going to leave this alone until she gets some answers,” said Joe, and Michelle sighed.

“I hate it when you’re right,” she said. At the moment, she sounded exasperated, but in her heart, she felt relieved. She was very close to her sister, and hated the idea of keeping any secret from her. To break a bond of trust like that would have been hard for both of them, so the fact that Joe was so accepting of Mary learning his secret made her happy. Smiling a bit, she stood up and placed her palm on the table, allowing Joe to crawl onto it and take a seat. She raised her hand slowly and looked at him.

“So, how are we doing this?” she asked.