Clarissa knocked on the door to the lab. After waiting for several seconds, she knocked again. There was the sound of a kick on the other side and hte door swung open a few inches. Clarissa opened the crack further and peeked inside. Near the door a short man was cocking his head and looking at the floor. Some tools and a disassembled device lay on a workbench.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a finger and did not look at her. They stood like that for over a minute. Him staring at some intermittant point on the floor and her at him. Rats and a few dogs in cages chittered and barked. Finally, the man shook himself and said, "Ah yes." He returned to his work.
Clarissa cleared her throat. The man jumped and turned, dropping one of his tools. Staring at her for a moment, he finally said, "Who are you? Get out, please."
"I was sent here for work. I am to be your assistant, Servant." TK- finalize cult ranks.
"Hmmm, " he said, rubbing his chin, "I heard the last one died. Raid or some such. Fine. Feed the beasts." Note: I like the idea that he doesn't train her. He just impatiently shows her how to do something when he needs it done. Keeps Clarissa on her toes.
He returned to his tinkering, apparently satisfied that what he said was enough. Clarissa looked around at the dirty lab. Like all agents, she had done a short stint with the Purple Cloaks, learning the very basics of their trade and the equipment they used. She recognized most of the devices, but they were all dirty and looked worse for wear. Something tugged at her mind, like she should ask about these devices and where they came from. Some mission she had. Dismissing the thought, she found a bag of cheap dog food with a dirtier cup inside. She started filling any bowl she could find in the cages.
"Not that one!" The shout startled her as she was bending down to feed one of the rats. She turned to ask why, but was hit in the chest with a pair of heavy gloves.
"Bring it. And wear the gloves. Damn things bite." Putting down the scoop of food, Clarissa donned the gloves. Unhooking the door, she grasped at the rat, it dodged and bit her, its sharp little teeth digging into the heavy leather. It might've gotten away if it hadn't bit. It's teeth stuck for a moment and she got a hold of its squirming body.
The man, who had not introduced himself yet, was tapping his foot and holding a syringe with some impatience. Finally she got both hands on the little beast and brought it over. "Hold it," was all he said and sunk the syringe into the rat's back. In a few seconds, it was still.
"Put it on the table." Clarissa complied. The device that had been in pieces was now back together. The man paid her no mind again and slipped another, larger syringe into its housing. Clarissa recognized this now. Infusion.
She watched while he went over to the far wall and removed a jute sack covering from something. She saw that it was a safe like the ones raw element was stored in in the Conduit Plants. It was the only clean thing in the lab. Several wires and conduits ran into in which she had not noticed before amidst the debris of the lab. Her new boss took a key from a chain around his neck and opened the safe.
Clarissa could see a blue glow coming out from it. The scienseer carefully removed two small bottles from the safe. He brought them over as if dropping them was a death sentence- which it very well may be. Tralaticon and raw element were valuable commidities, though raw element was less rare these days than it used to be.
Clarissa recognized the machine now that he went over to. It was a synthesizer- a machine used to properly measure out the ratios of liquid tralaticon, raw element, and carrier for injection into the rat. It was similar of imbuing inanimate objects like armor plates or weapons, but far more complex as it requires anaylsis of the unique living creature.
Not knowing what else to do and seemingly forgotten, Clarissa watched the man work. Placing the vials of liquid tralaticon and raw Water into their respective slots, he took a small syringe from a rack and drew blood from the unconscious rat. Popping the vial of blood out, he threw the syringe in a metal wastebin and placed the blood into its own slot in the machine. Flipping a switch, he began the delicate process of balancing the three substances.
Clarissa did not know exactly how this was done. Tralaticon was still difficult to acquire, not because it was rare, but because mining it was so tedious. And it was impure. Pure tralaticon- that was valuable and quite rare. It was found in small chunks usually out in the wild. Even a palm sized piece was worth a fortune. Becuase of this, only fully trained Purple Cloaks and senior technicians in the Conduit Plant were allowed to perform this process. Note: would they perform this process? It is taboo? Why would they look for someone's element makeup?
Dials whirred and lights blinked on and off and the scienseer attempted to match the ratios of tralaticon, element, and carrier to the element makeup of the creature. The target was moving contantly because the relationship between the tralaticon and the other pieces was unstable. The instruments measuring element makeup and tralaticon impurity were sensitive, but there was an error band around every number. And adding one of the substances to the others could subtly change it. Also, the scienseer could not remove any substance once it has been added the solution, he could only try to balance it out. After about 15 minutes of silent work, he flipped another switch and said, "That will have to do."
With less ceremony that Clarissa expected, he popped out yet another syringe casing, this one specially designed to hold the resulting substance, and injected the rat. Placing it back in its cage, he looked up startled- he had forgotten Clarissa again.
"Watch," was all he said to her. Grabbing a spray bottle from the workbench, he squirted a mist into the rat's face. "Just water," he explained.
The rat twitched and shot up suddenly, its eyes wide and bright blue. It started scratching at the cage frantically. Clarissa heard the scienseer mutter a curse under his breath and turn away. She continued watching. She had never seen Infusion before. The rat's tail started to glow blue along cracks in the skin while foam flowed from the rat's mouth. She watched in morbid fascination for a few more minutes as it struggled against its fate, but before long it died.
The scienseer was sitting at his workbench wiping his forehead with a handkerchief and cocking his head at something Clarissa couldn't hear.
"They all end up like that," he said suddenly. "It's possible- the Ergon do it all the time. Hell, some of the other cults have managed it before on humans for a short time." He grimaced here. Clarissa could only imagine what a failed Infusion would do to a human being.
"Don't call me Servant, by the way. It's Simon or Doc. I don't care which." He turned and offered his hand, which she took. "Clarissa," she said. "Is this what you do here? Infusion?"
"Yes, in the Pool's name. We need to find it. Our work is the key to the long term success of the ark. I can't figure out how to balance the solution." Note: this is just like ancient astronomy trying to use more and more complex groups of ellipses. The pure tralaticon represents the gravitational constant that unites the motions of the spheres.