HopelessHack
06-22-2013, 02:37 AM
Okay, so my first story was a little rushed and didn’t really have a clear conclusion. I’ve started a slightly longer one which I will be posting in sections as I complete them. I already have the whole story sketched out, so this one should be a little more cohesive and… erm… you know, better. As always, criticism is very welcome. I’m trying to learn and I have a strong masochistic streak so please, please, be really cruel (unless you are a sadist, in which case you can be doubly mean by refusing me you cruelty.) Also, it’s a working title, so please don’t let that put you off. Hope you enjoy! :)
Part one.
Faisal was late. He knew it didn’t matter, in all probability no one would notice if he didn’t show up at all, but lateness was something for which he frequently admonished others and he hated to be a hypocrite. Lateness and hypocrisy were two of his major bugbears. The afternoon sun was fierce and he could already feel his shirt, thirstily imbibing the sweat from his back and underarms. Whether to remove his jacket and expose his shame or suffer the self-imposed discomfort was a dilemma he had never satisfactorily resolved in his 36 years on Earth. He envied those people, his wife Amana as a perfect example, for whom such tiny, everyday decisions were as natural as breathing. He could ask her and she would give the indisputably correct answer without a moment’s thought
“Of course, you should do X” she would say “that’s just common sense, surely.” He wondered occasionally if there was a manual somewhere, perhaps one he had been due to receive on his 18th birthday, entitled ‘Things All Adults Should Know’. Maybe his copy was still languishing, undelivered in some dark corner of a Royal Mail sorting office.
He made his way briskly into the hotel foyer, noting how sparse the crowd was and feeling a touch of relief. He wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with people today. Contributing to his antisocial mood, aside from the heat and the long journey he had just endured, was the strangest sensation in his stomach, not exactly painful, but certainly very uncomfortable. A kind of churning, shifting weight unlike anything he had experienced before. He had first noticed it two days ago and had thought it to be trapped wind or perhaps something he had eaten. Since then however it had been gradually intensifying and now that it had become more acute, he could not deny that it was a thoroughly alien feeling. He wished that it would stop, but at the same time, he found it oddly fascinating. He was sure somehow that it was a unique experience; it was just so far removed from anything he had felt before. He considered that if it didn’t improve over the next few days, he would have to make an appointment with Dr Charalambous and that thought troubled him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to skip the conference, make his way up to his suite and flop onto the plush Egyptian cotton duvet without interacting with anyone. If only that were an option.
Scanning the crowd, he quickly picked out his colleague Dr Howard Barrister standing by the conference room entrance, chatting eagerly to three younger men who appeared to be competing over who could appear the most uninterested. If they were hoping he would take the hint, thought Faisal, they were making a serious tactical misjudgement. It was something of a hobby for Howard to impose his presence precisely on those least desirous of it. Faisal had learnt, by arduous trial and error, that the best way to deal with him was to feign a keen interest in whatever questionable wisdom he was espousing at the time. Nod vigorously, interject with earnest questions, insist that he elaborate on every minute detail of his new theory and generally act as though his every utterance was some profound revelation. He moved quickly across the room towards the four men and interrupted the conversation abruptly. Dr Barrister’s audience were visibly relieved.
“Dr Barrister.” He said warmly. “Good to see a familiar face.”
“Ah, Dr Bhajat, Glad you could join us.” replied Howard with a generous smile and firm handshake. “I was just explaining to these fine gentlemen my theory about maladaptive phenotypic plasticity in molluscs”
He addressed his victims, disingenuously “I do hope I wasn’t boring you,” I can get rather carried away with my thought at times.”
“No, not at all” muttered the men in clumsy unison without even the slightest suggestion of sincerity.
Faisal realised that his window to rescue these poor, beleaguered souls was narrowing rapidly.
“Fascinating!” he blurted a little too enthusiastically and then, with a little more restraint “please continue, I'm always anxious to hear about your latest research.”
Howard’s eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinising Faisal’s face for any trace of irony. If any were to be detected, Faisal’s strategy would be unacceptably compromised. The stakes were high. There was no retreat. If foul play were to be suspected, Howard could easily call Faisal’s bluff. His winning formula would be lost forever with a single moment’s miscalculation and the penalty would be severe. He summoned every ounce of his theatrical ability and presented what he hoped was an Oscar-worthy expression of sober attentiveness. The seconds he held it seemed like aeons.
“Well, it’s not strictly related to my research” continued Howard cordially. “More of a pet theory you understand. Perhaps I’ll save it for another time.”
Faisal did his best to look mildly disappointed, not too much though, lesson well learned. The three young men attempted no such pretence and excused themselves with obvious relief, floating wide eyed back into the small crowd with the air of long marooned sailors, picking up fragments of their former lives.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you as it is” Said Howard, now giving Faisal his full attention. “I know you’ve been considering a change of career and, well… frankly I was hoping I might persuade you to reconsider.”
“Howard.” Faisal began apologetically “I…”
“…Now hear me out old chap, I know we can’t possibly match a company like EW-Agri in financial benefits, but that’s not the only factor to consider now is it, I mean, for one thing, I know how much you love your insects, that’s why you chose entomology as a field is it not? Now do you really think your expertise is best suited to the cause of exterminating the helpless little critters?”
He raised his eyebrows enquiringly, not expecting a response, the pause serving to allow Faisal time to absorb the inescapable truth and wisdom of his argument and be thoroughly convinced by it.
“Just hear me out.” He persisted “Let me explain what we can offer. No pressure I promise.”
Howard placed a hand on Faisal’s shoulder and smiled in his favourite condescending smile. Faisal understood that to argue was to try to hold back a perfect storm with a cocktail umbrella. He might have been more inclined to try were it not for the terrible twisting, bubbling sensation in his stomach, the one that was now becoming impossible to ignore.
“Okay Howard” he conceded, “let’s talk”
“There we go” Said Howard moving his hand from Faisal’s shoulder onto his back and motioning him towards to conference hall “Should be good this, I’ve got a programme. Shall we go and find some seats?”
Part one.
Faisal was late. He knew it didn’t matter, in all probability no one would notice if he didn’t show up at all, but lateness was something for which he frequently admonished others and he hated to be a hypocrite. Lateness and hypocrisy were two of his major bugbears. The afternoon sun was fierce and he could already feel his shirt, thirstily imbibing the sweat from his back and underarms. Whether to remove his jacket and expose his shame or suffer the self-imposed discomfort was a dilemma he had never satisfactorily resolved in his 36 years on Earth. He envied those people, his wife Amana as a perfect example, for whom such tiny, everyday decisions were as natural as breathing. He could ask her and she would give the indisputably correct answer without a moment’s thought
“Of course, you should do X” she would say “that’s just common sense, surely.” He wondered occasionally if there was a manual somewhere, perhaps one he had been due to receive on his 18th birthday, entitled ‘Things All Adults Should Know’. Maybe his copy was still languishing, undelivered in some dark corner of a Royal Mail sorting office.
He made his way briskly into the hotel foyer, noting how sparse the crowd was and feeling a touch of relief. He wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with people today. Contributing to his antisocial mood, aside from the heat and the long journey he had just endured, was the strangest sensation in his stomach, not exactly painful, but certainly very uncomfortable. A kind of churning, shifting weight unlike anything he had experienced before. He had first noticed it two days ago and had thought it to be trapped wind or perhaps something he had eaten. Since then however it had been gradually intensifying and now that it had become more acute, he could not deny that it was a thoroughly alien feeling. He wished that it would stop, but at the same time, he found it oddly fascinating. He was sure somehow that it was a unique experience; it was just so far removed from anything he had felt before. He considered that if it didn’t improve over the next few days, he would have to make an appointment with Dr Charalambous and that thought troubled him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to skip the conference, make his way up to his suite and flop onto the plush Egyptian cotton duvet without interacting with anyone. If only that were an option.
Scanning the crowd, he quickly picked out his colleague Dr Howard Barrister standing by the conference room entrance, chatting eagerly to three younger men who appeared to be competing over who could appear the most uninterested. If they were hoping he would take the hint, thought Faisal, they were making a serious tactical misjudgement. It was something of a hobby for Howard to impose his presence precisely on those least desirous of it. Faisal had learnt, by arduous trial and error, that the best way to deal with him was to feign a keen interest in whatever questionable wisdom he was espousing at the time. Nod vigorously, interject with earnest questions, insist that he elaborate on every minute detail of his new theory and generally act as though his every utterance was some profound revelation. He moved quickly across the room towards the four men and interrupted the conversation abruptly. Dr Barrister’s audience were visibly relieved.
“Dr Barrister.” He said warmly. “Good to see a familiar face.”
“Ah, Dr Bhajat, Glad you could join us.” replied Howard with a generous smile and firm handshake. “I was just explaining to these fine gentlemen my theory about maladaptive phenotypic plasticity in molluscs”
He addressed his victims, disingenuously “I do hope I wasn’t boring you,” I can get rather carried away with my thought at times.”
“No, not at all” muttered the men in clumsy unison without even the slightest suggestion of sincerity.
Faisal realised that his window to rescue these poor, beleaguered souls was narrowing rapidly.
“Fascinating!” he blurted a little too enthusiastically and then, with a little more restraint “please continue, I'm always anxious to hear about your latest research.”
Howard’s eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinising Faisal’s face for any trace of irony. If any were to be detected, Faisal’s strategy would be unacceptably compromised. The stakes were high. There was no retreat. If foul play were to be suspected, Howard could easily call Faisal’s bluff. His winning formula would be lost forever with a single moment’s miscalculation and the penalty would be severe. He summoned every ounce of his theatrical ability and presented what he hoped was an Oscar-worthy expression of sober attentiveness. The seconds he held it seemed like aeons.
“Well, it’s not strictly related to my research” continued Howard cordially. “More of a pet theory you understand. Perhaps I’ll save it for another time.”
Faisal did his best to look mildly disappointed, not too much though, lesson well learned. The three young men attempted no such pretence and excused themselves with obvious relief, floating wide eyed back into the small crowd with the air of long marooned sailors, picking up fragments of their former lives.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you as it is” Said Howard, now giving Faisal his full attention. “I know you’ve been considering a change of career and, well… frankly I was hoping I might persuade you to reconsider.”
“Howard.” Faisal began apologetically “I…”
“…Now hear me out old chap, I know we can’t possibly match a company like EW-Agri in financial benefits, but that’s not the only factor to consider now is it, I mean, for one thing, I know how much you love your insects, that’s why you chose entomology as a field is it not? Now do you really think your expertise is best suited to the cause of exterminating the helpless little critters?”
He raised his eyebrows enquiringly, not expecting a response, the pause serving to allow Faisal time to absorb the inescapable truth and wisdom of his argument and be thoroughly convinced by it.
“Just hear me out.” He persisted “Let me explain what we can offer. No pressure I promise.”
Howard placed a hand on Faisal’s shoulder and smiled in his favourite condescending smile. Faisal understood that to argue was to try to hold back a perfect storm with a cocktail umbrella. He might have been more inclined to try were it not for the terrible twisting, bubbling sensation in his stomach, the one that was now becoming impossible to ignore.
“Okay Howard” he conceded, “let’s talk”
“There we go” Said Howard moving his hand from Faisal’s shoulder onto his back and motioning him towards to conference hall “Should be good this, I’ve got a programme. Shall we go and find some seats?”