There wasn’t an investigation of the incident at the depot to speak of. One brief mention by the BBC suggested that two ritualistic murders had taken place and according to sources familiar with the situation, the head of a high ranking military officer was found along with the head of a local drug kingpin impaled on a spike. Authorities suspected marijuana trafficking.
Two years later Fetus had taken the name Able Trinidad because he thought it sounded exotic. After taking the tests for his preliminary schooling and earning his diploma, Fetus applied to Universidad Autonoma de Guadalajara Medical School in Jalisco. Once accepted he proved to be a natural learner and absorbed everything. His grades were among the top in his class and by his second year, he received an invitation to join the advanced medical and pharmaceutical research team, subsequent to a successful interview.
Fetus sat in the office in front of an expensive desk and waited for the Director of Research to arrive.
“Don’t turn around and don’t say anything, I want you to listen,” said a powerful voice from behind him. The man speaking placed a large, but gentle hand on Fetus’s shoulder. “You may think you recognize me. Something may trigger a memory or cause you to suspect we have some past affiliation. Keep in mind that the position you are applying for does not allow for flights of fancy or the telling of outlandish tales. This is a place of science.” the man said.
Abel nodded. The man stepped past him and took a seat behind the massive desk. The Director’s eyes blazed with a zealot’s fervor.
“Well then, it seems we have an understanding. From this point forward you will be my personal assistant, aiding me in some of the more, irregular work that I must do,” the said. The Director paused, lit a pipe, and looked every bit the academic were it not for the steely muscular frame beneath his lab coat.
“If you can do this to my satisfaction, I will make sure you have a promising career in medicine and I promise, I will never refer to you as Fetus,” he concluded extending his massive hand.
Abel looked at the nameplate on the desk for the fifth time. Then he looked at the hand being offered. Abel hadn’t thought about the farm, the depot or Leaf for a long time. He hadn’t wanted to. Sometimes when he was alone late at night he wondered if any of it had been real.
Abel was scared, terrified even, but his thirst for knowledge was greater than his fear. Abel couldn’t imagine the depth and scope of this man’s experience. He tried to imagine all there was to learn if he agreed to the Directors terms.
“Thank you Director. I look forward to working for you,” Abel said as he shook the hand of Miguel LLull de Santiago, the world’s oldest living alchemist.
- fin -