Dating : A Glass of Water (short story)

(note: I am challenging myself to write every day for 30 days. What follows may not necessarily be interesting or even coherent. Parental discretion is advised.)

He sat on the bar stool at the far end of the corner, bathed in darkness, watching for his prey to enter the room.

The shells of a broken peanut brushed against his hand as he raised a thick wrist to his eyes, squinting at the clock and glancing quickly towards the door.

The card arrived this morning, taped to his door with the letter X marked in red on the back. On the front was a photo and name of the one he would have to dispose of. A rather benign looking Asian fellow by the name of George Liu who appeared about as harmless as a goldfish out of water panting belly-up on a kitchen floor.

“Thirty-seven thousand dollars”, Nick whispered to himself, mindful of the flat wallet in the back of his pocket. Six months out of work and he had little choice but to take the contract that was offered.

He felt a thin smile cross his face as he went over his plan, touching the vial inside his coat pocket. It was filled with purified ricin, a poison derived from the waste product of castor beans.

Nick wasn’t sure if it was going to work. The only assurance he had was that no antidote for ricin currently exists. Victims were known to die a slow and painful death over several days as the cells in their bodies prevent the production of essential proteins and took at least four to six hours before any noticeable symptoms appeared.

It was the perfect drug to assassinate a target with.

Nick felt the slickness of cold sweat on the vial as he lightly pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. He felt the ridges of the cap and knew that a slight flick of his thumb could pop it right open. He should have been afraid of such a deadly poison, but it felt innocuous and tame in his hand. Hard for him to feel threatened by a small amount of gray powder.

A noise at the front of the bar startled him and he watched as a thin awkward man stepped inside, looking about the room with wide expressive eyes.

Deer in headlights, Nick thought as he raised his arm up to wave his prey over to where he was sitting.

His target returned the wave with a nod and walked slowly towards him. Perspicuous eyes darting here and there, scanning the environment, assessing for possible threats. His posture stiff and gait robotic.

It was Tuesday early afternoon and apart from the chimes of a nearby video slot machine, the place was empty and without soul.

Just like it felt inside of Nick.

He sighed, feeling the blood pump into his veins, at last comprehending the grim reality of the situation. This was the job. He does it, he goes home, life becomes a hell of a lot easier. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe he’ll even splurge on a pizza afterwards. His stomach grumbled.

“Are you Mr. Wolsheivik?” George asked, appraising the burly man before him.

Nick stood from the chair to extend a hand.

“Yes I am. Thank you for coming Dr. Liu. Take yourself a seat.”

“This place seems secure enough.” He remarked, setting himself down to signal the waitress. She was an older lady who seemed preoccupied with cleaning a table. Glancing at the voice, she dropped the wet cloth she was holding and energetically strode over to the men.

“What canna’ getcha both?” She asked with a scowl, annoyed at being interrupted.

“Could I get a glass of water please? With a lemon wedge?” George asked, casting his eyes over to his companion.

Nick shook his head, indicating with a raising of his glass that he was satisfied with the pint already at hand.

“Water coming up,” the waitress spun around curtly — further annoyed that this customer was not of the paying variety.

George ran a pale hand through his busy hair. “How are you doing sir? Thank you for taking an interest in my little invention.”

Nick smiled, somewhat pleased that he devised this idea of pretending to be a wealthy investor looking to finance whatever it was that George worked on. The man was a scientist of sorts, yet he could not discern what exactly had he invented. All he knew is that George had some serious academic credentials and was looking to fund a particular kind of research. Not much was found on the internet and that was fine by Nick. The less he knew, the better.

“I’m fine, thank you and yourself? What do you need help with?”

“I’m doing very well,” George replied, pulling out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolding it onto the counter.

Nick could see what looked like an electrical circuit or a series of lines and circles with numbers next to various parts.

“What is this supposed to be?” Nick asked.

George crossed both arms with a smile on his lips. Setting a tall skinny glass filled with ice cubes onto the table with a loud thunk, the waitress left as quickly as she had appeared.

“Thanks,” he said, waiting for her to move outside of earshot.

“This…” George twirled the straw inside of his glass, causing the cubes to clink. “What you’re looking at is going to change the world.”

“Change the world, huh?” Nick squinted at the wrinkled paper. “How so?”

“Are you familiar with the principles of hydroelectric combustion?”

“Explain it.”

George lowered his voice and leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “This is a schematic for an engine that can run off of ocean water. I’ve been working on this for six years. It’s why I’m here looking for to secure funding so I can get it into mass production.”

Nick looked at the glass of water before him, watching the levels drop. He wouldn’t have much time to slip the vial of ricin in. Not with that skinny glass. He needed to come up with a distraction, and quick.

“Will it work?” He asked, casually taking a sip of his beer. His mind filling with ideas.

“It already does work,” George replied with a note of excitement. “I’ve run the numbers myself in the lab and 3D printed a functioning prototype. Seventy-five miles to the gallon. The process uses centrifugal motion to separate hydrogen and oxygen from the molecules. Piezoelectric/hydro power. Only needs a small battery connected to a solar panel to start the initial reaction and from there, seventy-five miles per gallon. Swear on my mother’s life.”

“Using water from the ocean?”

“Ocean water, yes. The salt contains an electric charge which then spins the centrifuge, combusts the hydrogen and oxygen and results in vapor as a waste product. Like I said, this will change the world. Imagine filling the tank of your car with harmless salt water and producing zero emissions as a result. This is the holy grail not only for vehicles but power stations. We wouldn’t need to burn coal or gas for electricity when we can draw directly from the ocean. 71% of this planet is covered with water and 96% of that water is in the ocean. Humanity will not have to rely upon fossil fuels ever again.”

“I don’t believe you,” Nick said. “I’ve heard of this free-energy bullshit before and none of those ideas have worked. It’s been talked about for years.”

“Because,” George caught himself raising his voice and cleared his throat. “Because it is highly disruptive technology. This isn’t even my idea to begin with. It originates from others.”

“Other what? Scientists?”

“Some were scientists,” Nick paused, averting his eyes. “Many were inventors, like myself, who wanted to make a difference. Do you know who Stanley Meyer was?”

“No, I don’t.”

“He came up with this. Was killed in 2011 and nobody knew what happened to the engine or the plans he came up with.”

“But you do.”

“Yes.” George took another gulp of water, draining it halfway. “His brother gave them to me to work with. Warned me not to say anything to anyone until I’m ready to present a fully-functioning model at a press conference and I can do this inside of a few months.”

“Which is why you’re here. You need my money.”

“Yes. I’m surprised you managed to find out about me. I didn’t tell anyone other than a friend who said that you were interested in financing my work.”

Nick smiled, remembering the telephone call he had with Jim. He saw the photo of both men online and decided to fish for details on who he was dealing with. When asked what his interest was, the magic words appeared to be ‘substantial investment’ which opened up the door to George. A little greed can go a long ways.

“Your friend Jim wasn’t upfront with any of the details as to what you were involved with. I had no idea it would be this.”

He touched the vial inside his pocket, running his thumb along the cap.

“You can understand why he did not tell you Mr. Wolshevik. I can assure you it works and I have the prototype in my car if you would like to see a little demonstration.”

“Of course, I would.” Nick replied, feeling nervous. His window of opportunity was shrinking. He squeezed the vial gently between his fingers.

“I promise you will not be disappointed, let me pay for your drink first.” George turned in his seat to search out the waitress. “Can we get the bill please?”

Now or never.

Nick felt his grip tighten as he removed the vial from his pocket and then the unspeakable happened.

The vial shattered. Fragments of glass and ricin powder smeared itself onto his palm and in a panic, he flicked it away into the open air, creating a small plume that hovered menacingly over the table.

He held his breath and felt fear enter his veins.

The waitress returned with a slip of paper and placed it onto the table. George reached into his wallet to retrieve a twenty-dollar bill and opened his mouth to speak.

“Are you okay sir? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nick could feel his heart pound furiously against his chest as he felt blood rush into his head. He was still holding his breath, rubbing a soiled palm onto the side of his leg.

In the dim light, the white cloud hovered above the table like a fine dust.

George coughed.

With sudden movement, Nick bolted from his seat and rushed out the door into the daylight. He took a deep breath and looked around. Across the street a parked car with a man inside regarded him from behind dark glasses. Nick scratched an itch on his nose and froze as he realized the hand he had used.

The ricin contaminated hand.

He ran down the street to find his car, got inside and jammed the key into the ignition. With a roar, his Cadillac El Dorado sped down the street going through a red light.

Until it was t-boned by an oncoming semi.

Nick Parsons had died that day. Mercifully so, because in the hours to follow, George Liu began to cough up blood and fell into a spasm while driving to pick his son up from daycare. He did not run a light but lost control of his vehicle and veered into the opposite lane, to hit a parked van. The front of his car folded like an accordion, trapping him in the seat.

The paramedics who arrived at the scene had to first wait for firefighters to pull George’s body from the twisted metal of the car. By the time they removed the door, George was dead. Blood had poured out from his mouth to form a pool in his lap. He was wearing a seatbelt, and this confused the forensic examiner who later ruled the death as caused by an intracranial aneurysm. No traces of ricin were ever found or even suspected.

In the weeks since, George’s car had been sent to a wrecking yard where it was pressed into the shape of a pancake by a flat hydraulically powered plate. Nobody thought to look inside and remove any of the contents.

The secret of the water-combustion engine was safe.

Once again.

Until the next time.

(in memory of Stanley Meyer and all the mavericks who died under mysterious circumstances in their pursuit of building a better world.)