| Chapter 3
In the FTZ section of the Confederate American States Sector, life was busy. All around, buildings were going up, up, up. The growth in construction was only just starting to slow down, the Denver skyline radically changed w\since the FTZ was formed in 2057. Land was at a premium, and everyone wanted to make use of the economic possibilities of a whole city subject to duty free imports, as it were, like a miniature Hong Kong. To cope with the trading, and the subsequent employment that it created, the corporations, companies and governments needed more and more people in the area to take advantage of the situation. This is turn required more office space, which in turn required more workers to build the offices...the end result being a massive surge in population for the city. The very limited space inside the FTZ meant that a lot of the growth was vertical. l'Ours, the Bear, now sat in the shadow of the Shiawese mall building. It was a corporate landmark in the Denver downtown area, now becoming dwarfed more and more. Two buildings, the largest the Shiawese tower, was over 40 stories and housed a number of Shiawese subsidiaries, as well as unrelated companies. Near ground level, it contained shops, eateries and a simsense theatre. Across the way, the smaller, squatter Shiawese Biotech building sat, hunched. In between was a landscaped area, perfect for lunches, getting some sun between meetings, and early morning yoga. l'Ours took a bite out of his bagel, and checked his watch. He then looked over at the Shiawese Biotech building. It was similar in architecture to a number of buildings Cross had built back in Quebec, and the man thought perhaps he might look into that. It gleamed white and the grey of tinted glass, a security must in the age of magicians who could, if they could see you, do any number of things, including read your mind if you weren’t careful. Shiawese Biotech was today's target, and between watching the man by the car, who was trying his best to look at ease and uninterested in the building, was. He in turn was getting watched by l'Ours. Inside, there were several laboratories, a very large and powerful server farm in the basement for genetic research and molecular modeling, and a two-floor state of the art corporate hospital, servicing Shiawese employees and anyone else lucky enough to afford their health plans. In short, Shiawese Biotech was a competent company with a lot of resources, and one of Cross Technologies major competitors in the medical area. Also inside were three people who should not have been. l'Ours was somewhat impressed. Normally, he would be watching from a further distance, electronically, or possibly astrally. But today he wanted to get a good eyeball of this new team that Jean-Paul was trying to put together. They had gotten in quite easily, it was seen, and their fourth member, outside here waiting, did not seem too stressed. His aura spoke of anticipation, not anxiety. And then the man had spotted him. Another reason l'Ours had decided to come down to the actual park to watch them was to see if this man had known he was being watched. Polite conversation followed, and l'Ours had stood up and made his excuses, walking now towards the large Shiawese tower. He would watch astrally from now on. l'Ours smiled, as usual, Jamon had set his expectations low to avoid disappointment. l'Ours now believed that this crew would be successful, and not only that, one or two of them might even be worth employing a second time. * "That's sacrilege! Absolutely not!" Jamon sighed. He was, by birth, a catholic, and outwardly he knew it was in his best interest to show a little faith. After all, the Seraphim themselves were a biblical reference, and Lucien was quite friendly with the Holy Mother Church, not to mention a more than passing acquaintance with several of the senior cardinals in Rome. But Jamon's sensibilities...not to mention his sins...forced him to dismiss a lot of the religious fervor as outdated nonsense. "Father, it was agreed that this would need to be a very discreet addition. Your Bishop has agreed to the plans. After all, don’t many of your brothers light their crosses with neon and other stuff? This isn’t a lot different." Father Thomas bristled. The Bishop this, the Bishop that. Surely, Cross's donation to the church had helped him keep what was left of his flock and chapel, but Father Thomas was not happy by the means it was kept. Bishop Dallati was a true throwback to the old Catholic Hegemony, a wishful thinking attempted machiavellian, someone more interested in quantity, not quality, of the church's influence and numbers, a man who- "Father, please, do not forget. This will help you bring some of your wayward sheep back to the fold. Part of this equipment's use is to deal with the Ale'i, and the Cult of the Dragon, as well." Explained Jamon. "'Deal' with them, eh? Trickery and illusion may have lured them away, my son, but I'll be damned if that’s what we used to get them back!" retorted Father Thomas sharply. Jamon inwardly sighed once more. Father Thomas was a good man, he knew that. Unfortunately, good men were outdated in these times. Still, Jamon couldn’t fault the man for not being happy about it. But it wasn’t Jamon's job to take the moral high ground. * |