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McBrid sat in the cafeteria stuffing sausage and pancake into his mouth. Last night had been the first time in days that he’d gone home. His refrigerator had been empty except for rotting food. He’d been too tired to go to the store. So, he’d come in early for breakfast. The only perk in working here was the cafeteria. The professor was an amateur chef of sorts and ensured that the food was top quality.
Scottsmoor made his way across the room, tray in hand and sat across from McBrid.
“You’re here early,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. No one ever arrived this early. Perhaps, the other scientist had spent the night.
“Some of us care about our work.” Scottsmoor spread jelly on his toast.
“We all care about our projects.” If they didn’t, they died.
“Hmm.” Scottsmoor grunted, making his disbelief clear. “Heard you were looking for me.”
“Yeah, I have some questions about the eradication.”
“Everything is in the notes.” Scottsmoor took a sip of his coffee.
“Right.” He didn’t believe that for a second.
Scottsmoor paused, his toast halfway to his mouth. “You don’t believe me?”
“Of course, I do. Just like I passed on everything I know to Parson.”
“Precisely.” Scottsmoor’s blue eyes sparkled as he took a bite of the bread. “Have you sprayed the enclosure yet?”
“No.”
“Why not? If those things hatch...You can’t let that happen. Too many of them and...” Scottsmoor’s face paled. “If they get out, we’re all dead.”
“That’s true for almost everything around here.”
“The Brush-Men are the worst.”
“Please, the Araneas would destroy the Brush-Men.”
“No.” Scottsmoor leaned forward, the hint of coffee wafting over McBrid’s face. “These produce offspring. A lot of viable offspring. They need to be destroyed. There should be safety measures fused into their genetics.”
“Oh, the professor wouldn’t like that.” He couldn’t believe Scottsmoor had even uttered the words. Conguise wanted bioweapons, fertile bioweapons.
“That’s why I’d never do it.” Scottsmoor glanced around. “You need to kill those eggs before they hatch.”
“I will.” He stood. Soon, he’d have Scottsmoor’s notes. He didn’t need the Almighty’s lecture.
Scottsmoor grabbed his arm. “I mean it. If you don’t want to do it, I will.”
“It’s my project now.” He stared hard at Scottsmoor until the other Almighty dropped his hold. “I’ll eradicate on my schedule, not yours.”