Charles took a moment to mull over Twain’s words and felt rather humbled by them. He too looked down at the book and thought about what secrets it might hold. Dimitris words, and alcoholic stench, quickly brought Charles out of his little daydream and he recomposed himself.
“Well in that case, I suppose I must accept your proposal Twain.” He smiled with an almost sing-song tone.
“Wouldn’t mind a taste actually, long as it hasn’t got any nuts in it.”
The ingredients scattered across the tabled instantly snatched his attention and then followed by the promise of a demonstration, Charles looked practically giddy with excitement. Necromancy was one thing, a strange and enticing of magic, but fauna from another world entirely was something else!
“We do actually, several in fact, though I would suggest the Chemical Lab A2. Don’t suppose you could tell me the name of all these? Some of them look familiar; certain I’ve seen one or two on my walks but that one over there I am certain is new to me.”
Gabbling away at a hundred miles a second Charles pointed a pen he had drawn from nowhere at the mushroom.
“The way you describe the tree bark, it sounds just like Yeast works in our world; tiny micro-organisms that convert carbohydrates into alcohol. Frankly the idea of there being an equivalent in another world is as outstanding as the rest of this entire scenario.” For just a second Charles paused for breath and followed the flask as it travelled across the room.
“Anyway moving, could we put that little catalyst crystal under a few tests? Namely to see how it works and such, does it produce fresh water? How much can it produce at any one time? That sort of thing?”
Shannon stared at the fish, armoured by their beauty. The only fish she had seen had been the grey and brown ones of rivers and lakes. But these ones were different; their scales shone with many different colours in the light as they floated gently in and out of few. Shannon swayed her tail happily from side to side.
“I like only fishies in water. But fishies in Bad Place not in water, I not like fishies in Bad Place.”
Some Shannon recognised as fishies of some sort but others looked more like monsters with eyes and mouths too big, and one or two without either. She pressed her head against the glass trying to follow the one that looked like a plastic bag with strings dangling out the bottom.
“TRIDENT is run by Monster?” The snake poking out of Shannon’s mouth tilted its head at Zesiro. “TRIDENT not C.E.M.”
Zesiros question made her tail stop. To her, a human not knowing what C.E.M was, it was a very strange thing. A small growl arose from the back of her throat and she focussed all her eyes upon the fishies.
“C.E.M is Bad, Bad Place.” Her hackles rose along her spine and Shannon pressed a paw to her empty eye socket. “Agents
take Monsters. Agents
hurt Monsters. I no like C.E.M.”
The moment didn’t even get a chance to past when caught the whiff of a familiar smell; one that smells of stone and the outside. All the tension in her body left when she turned to follow it leading around the corner.
“Vaughtar Friend?” She didn’t move from the window until Vaughtar emerged. “Vaughtar Friend!”
She lolloped towards him and attempt to lift him up in her arms with happy grin. Shannon liked Vaughtar on account of how he actually looked like a Monster should and not somewhat like a human.
“Hello Vaughtar Friend. How you?”
But there was another smell, one that she didn’t recognise. There at the end of the hall she spotted another Not Agent and another horse looking monster.