Syboleth ch. 14: Pleas

AN: If you've already read Chapter 13 when I posted it as Chapter ? back in December, please reread between Chapters 12 and 14 before continuing. Basically, I was a big dumdum and posted the chapters out of order at first.

Chapter 14: Pleas

Garrett was not happy. He was at a cafe in a part of town he hadn’t lived in for two years, drinking a chai latte made with sickly sweet syrup and staring down Charlie; his old roommate.

“So what the hell is it, then?” Garrett asked. “What did you drag me out of my cave for?”

“Something I think is worth your while,” Charlie said.

“I’m not sure what you would know about that,” Garrett said.

“Look, I’m here as a friend,” Charlie said through his teeth. “And as a friend, I think I should be here telling you to throw some cash into our venture.”

“Why would you think I’m going to go for this?” Garrett sincerely asked.

“In ten years, us DRISPR founders are all going to be billionaires. I want you to be at least a multi-million dollar part of that.”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen to those test subjects in ten years,” Garrett scoffed. “You don’t know anything. All you know is what your thumb feels like up your ass.”

“It’s all very stringently monitored for side effects.”

“I’m really not interested in this ‘CRISP’y shit.”

“I think you should at least hear me out first,” said Charlie.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” said Garrett, figuring this was the fastest way to finish this conversation.

“We’re going to end addiction for countless people,” Charlie said with a rehearsed tone. “Change countless lives, protect so many families from being broken up by the ravages of prescription abuse.”

Garrett personally would’ve swapped out “countless” for “so many” in each instance when in casual conversation, but Charlie thankfully wasn’t that socially aware. He often gave away his rehearsed speeches this way.

“You’re telling me you seriously think you’re doing some sort of good for the world?” Garrett asked in disbelief.

“Imagine it, Garry! Opioids that can’t be abused! Amphetamines that can’t be resold!” Charlie crowed, as if he was expecting a much more positive response than the one that Garrett was now giving.

“I would sooner drink piss for breakfast than invest in that quasi-demonic shit,” Garrett said.

“Suit yourself, I guess,” Charlie said. “Just trying to be a friend.”

“I don’t need a biomedical degree to see that this shit is going to end poorly. In fact, maybe that’s exactly my essential shortcoming to let me see that this shit is going to end poorly.”

“Whatever,” said Charlie, hopping off the railing and starting to walk away. “We’re going to save lives.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Garrett said, and hoped it would be the last thing he said to Charlie.

“The drug industry will be revolutionized, and you’ll be a footnote in history,” Charlie said.

Thankfully, that wasn’t worth responding to. Garrett already knew he would be more than a footnote in history, and saying so would just seem to be a put on.

He turned and began walking to the train stop in an abrupt manner.

By the time he reached the train, he had calmed down somewhat because of the music playing in his stereophonic bone conductors.

He had resisted for a while, but they were simply too convenient. They never really needed charging, for the motion of walking was enough to trickle charge the conductors and barely any energy was needed to transmit the vibrations that resulted in a miraculous sort of sound fidelity coming from everywhere all at once upon Garrett’s hearing.

He was listening to “Care” by Kaada, a pleasant blend of two very old love songs to make a newer but now also old song with a slightly baroque but inviting vibe. He had been a fan of this song since his childhood, and it brought good feelings back for him now.

Everything would be fine.

Fine for him, at least.

Definitely not for others.

Never for others.

Not unless he did something.

But what, indeed, could he possibly do? Garrett thought and thought, and yet again came up short.

He was in a position of incredible power ostensibly, and yet it only amounted to one vote among fourteen in a group that seemed destined to do nothing but wrong.

But he couldn't let that stop him.

He had to change the world for the better.

Next chapter: https://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work/Aet%20Lindling/Syboleth-ch-15-To-Life-161580