February 13th, 2055
Cathy scrolled through the menu on the screen. “Cal, what do you feel like for dinner?” Since it was around dinner time, they had set up the system to automatically do their job while they had their dinner. If something came up, Callum programmed the system to give off an alarm. Callum was enjoying being able to relax for a little while longer before his shift started and read a virtual history book about the Dark Ages.
He paused in his reading to consider the options. “Doesn’t make any difference to me. The slop all tastes the same to me – expect vegetable soup. That is disgusting.”
“So you have no clue?” Cathy said, an idea forming in her mind.
“Nope. Whatever you have,” Callum said, returning to his reading.
Cathy grinned. “You asked for it,” she muttered to herself. She selected what she wanted for both of them, which then popped out of the microwave oven. It was in a tube and the contents were turned into a mushy soup, or ‘slop’ as Callum preferred to call it.
Cathy handed Callum’s tube – vegetable soup – to him. Then she ripped off the top of her tube (which was Tuna Mornay) and guzzled the contents. “Mmm!” she said, watching as Callum drank half of his in one gulp before grimacing.
“Oh, Cathy! What is this stuff?” Callum asked.
She laughed. “Vegetable soup.”
He frowned. “You had something else?”
“Tuna Mornay.” Callum scowled. “Anyway,” she continued, “I have worked out a way to prove whether or not Zion is in the restricted area.” Then she proceeded to tell him her idea. “I mean, I’m genius! I don’t know why I did not think about this earlier,” she said.
Callum finished his dinner with a grimace. He grabbed a nearby bottle of water and drunk some of it before answering. “Because it’s too far fetched.”
February 15th, 2055
Island 53, aka Babi Island, was a mountainous island of Indonesia that was officially uninhabited. But the League used that island to accommodate their genetics/cloning/hybrid laboratory. It was run by Johan Hakkonson, a Swedish scientist. Johan studied genes, or DNA, amazed at the complexity of it. Amazed that just one single cell contained the whole genetic software for the human, plant or creature. But what he really loved doing was experimenting with the DNA and mixing two different species into one, or creating clones, perfect copies of some life form.
Three days ago, Charles E. Ville and Emperor Noland had called him to say they needed five dinosaurs – preferably some velociraptors and pterodactyls – and five bigfoots at the soonest possible date and Johan was also ordered to replace one of the eyes in every single one with a video camera disguised as an eye and he was also ordered to insert a small device in the brains of the creatures so they could control what the creatures did. He did not know why, nor did he care. Johan had immediately went to work. He had fossils of dinosaurs and the fossils had swabs of DNA of the dinosaurs still on it. He picked the fossils of velociraptors and pterodactyls and then collected the DNA samples. From there, he created the dinosaurs using the DNA to create the clones. With the bigfoots, he had some kept in a cell below the island. He had tranquilized them and he and some of the nurses and doctors had been busy implanting the cameras and the small device. Johan was busy sewing up the last one of the creatures. He cut of some of the thread and then tied off the rest. He then tranquilized it a second time to be sure before having some of the other doctors help him pick up the pterodactyl and place it inside a big metal crate. He shut and sealed it. One of the doctors climbed into a Fork Lifter, picked up the crate and drove through the huge laboratory, through the road which went through the island to the port where a ship was docked, being loaded with the other crates.
The ship would then travel from Babi Island to the restricted area, which was in Africa aka Continent 4. Then they would unload the dinosaurs and the Sasquatch and the League would then, as far as Johan and the other doctors and nurses were concerned, do whatever they pleased with them. They did not care as long as they were payed the right price. Johan pressed his com watch. A holo-image of Kyen appeared. “Yes, Hakkonson?” Kyen asked, speaking fluent Swedish, Johan’s native language.
“Packages have been wrapped and are ready to be shipped. What time shall we launch?” Johan enquired.
“Whenever everything’s loaded and the ship is ready for launch,” Kyen replied.
“Yes, Your Highness.” And the call ended.
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