Science Science, Science Science

Science Science, Science Science

The laboratory hummed and buzzed. Beakers full of glowing chemicals and syrupy serums stood in orderly rows. Machines whined and growled. A shifting mist swirled like thin fog. At the center of the room was a silver ring-shaped machine whose inner edges glowed with a faint light. A partially-complete pair of trousers, suspended in mid-air by the ring’s mysterious energy, slowly turned in place.

Science Science, La La La

Science Science, La La La La

Eight laboratory assistants, four men and four women, bustled about. The men’s muscular torsos were barely covered by their sleeveless lab coats, and the women’s lab coats were scarcely coats at all. The scantily clad scientists were hard at work. Some wrote on clipboards, some poured smoking liquids, one was stitching fabric with a glowing thread.

All of them were singing.

Science Science, La La La

Science Science, La La La La

Stitch and switch and twist and twitch

Don’t lose track of which is which

If this works without a hitch

We’ll make Dr. Myasey rich!

The lab assistants’ singing filled the laboratory with a frenetic energy. Their harmonious voices were pleasant to the ear, but there was a slavish mania that crawled through the sound like a demented earworm.

Will the Doctor notice me?

His alone I want to be

With just the right discovery

I’ll help him make history!

One of the female lab assistants looked up and cried out in delight, “Dr. Myasey! The Doctor is here!”

The others followed her gaze to the observation deck that formed a ring around the whole lab. A tall man stood with a hand on the railing. His small, round glasses glinted in the light. The light also reflected off his bald head. He beamed down at the lab assistants with a toothy smile that contrasted sharply with a long and immaculately trimmed black goatee.

“Doctor!” the lab assistants cried, delighted.

The tall man let out a booming laugh. He folded his arms, observing the lab with the air of a king.

DA-DOOM!

This was:

Dr. Myasey. A Mysterious Scientist Assisting the Colombo Mafia.

“How is the project progressing, my pets?” Dr. Myasey asked.

Another of the female lab assistants stepped forward. Her voice was sultry when she spoke. “Everything is proceeding smoothly, Doctor! And thanks to my observations, we’re getting closer than ever!”

One of the male lab assistants scoffed at her. He looked up at Dr. Myasey and said huskily, “Actually, Doctor, it’s my hard work that’s getting us so close to success! I’m working harder than anyone here!”

A squabble broke out, and all eight lab assistants were soon arguing over whose work most deserved Dr. Myasey’s notice. The Doctor observed all this with a smile that got broader and broader.

Finally, he interjected, “Now, now, my pets! Each one of you is special to me. We all have such fun together each night, don’t we? And your hard work in the lab every day makes me proud.”

“But Doctor,” said one of the assistants, “which of us is your favorite?”

“Yes, Doctor! Which one of us do you love most?”

“Let me be your husband, Doctor!”

“No, let me be your wife!”

“Shut up! He’d never pick you!”

“Of course he would! I’m the cleverest scientist here!”

The squabble resumed, and it looked like the lab assistants were getting perilously close to coming to blows. Suddenly, Dr. Myasey’s booming laugh rang out once more. The eight lab assistants looked up at him.

“Oh, my pets, each of you works so hard. I love you all equally, and I want you all equally! But I cannot marry any of you, you must know this.”

“Why not, Doctor?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Why not choose me, Doctor? I know I can make you happy!”

Dr. Myasey raised a hand, quieting them all. When he spoke, his voice was rich with emotion. The air around him seemed to glow with a heavenly light. The lab assistants covered their mouths in awe.

“My pets… I cannot marry. To do so would be to betray my first love. My first love, to whom I owe everything. My first love, who must come before anyone or anything else in my life.”

One of the male lab assistants cried out, “Who is it, Doctor?! Who do you love more than us?”

“Yes, who?!” joined one of the female lab assistants. “I’ll prove I’m better!”

“My first love…” Dr. Myasey said, his deep voice full of emotion, “…IS SCIENCE!”

The lab assistants gasped. The lab was silent with their shock for a long moment. Then, one of the male lab assistants dropped to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes.

“We’ve been such fools,” he said. “How could we have been so blind?”

One of the female lab assistants clamped a hand over her mouth, weeping. She sniffed. “Of course!”

“The Doctor… Dr. Myasey… His first love…”

The lab assistants were overcome with emotion, the love and lust in their hearts rising to a fever pitch they had never known before.

“DR. MYASEY!” They cried. “WE LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVER!”

“Dr. Myasey!”

“Doctor!”

“What a noble man!”

“He’s not just a man… He’s a god of science!”

“WE LOVE YOU, DR. MYASEY!”

Dr. Myasey descended the stairs, joining his lab assistants, who embraced him in a frenzy of affection. The Doctor laughed heartily, his glasses glinting in the light.

“Back to work, my pets!” Dr. Myasey beamed. “There will be time for play when the day is done. For now, we must devote ourselves to Science!”

The lab assistants immediately began to bustle about and sing once more, the sound of their voices filling the lab.

Science Science, La La La

Science Science, La La La La

Science heaven, oh, how nice!

Join the fun and don’t think twice

Don’t you fret about the price

The Lab’s a lover’s paradise!

Dr. Myasey laughed as he flounced up the stairs to the observation deck once more. He waved to his lab assistants, blowing them kisses as he left. The eight of them swooned, catching the kisses out of the air. Still laughing, Dr. Myasey danced out of the lab, emerging into a dingy hall. The heavy lab door sealed shut behind him, the electronic locks engaging with a meaty CHOCK.

Dr. Myasey began to prance through the hallway. It was in ruins, in stark contrast to the sparkling laboratory behind him. The Doctor hummed the song his lab assistants had been singing as he pranced and span.

Science Science, La La La

Science Science, La La La La

“How’s the lab, Doc?” asked a voice.

“GYAH!” Dr. Myasey screamed, his arms automatically flying above his head. The grim silence of the ruined hallway rushed in like a palpable wind. The Doctor’s wild eyes peered this way and that. Then, seeing who the voice belonged to, he scolded, “Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!”

The newcomer didn’t reply. He lurked in the shadows, leaning against a nearby wall. He raised a lit cigarette to his mouth. His face was briefly illuminated by its glow. The man’s eyes were sharp, cold, and fixed on the Doctor.

“Walk with me,” said Spats Colombo.

Dr. Myasey nodded deferentially but rolled his eyes the moment the mobster’s back was turned. What was this killjoy doing here?

He followed Spats through the maze of hallways and collapsed ceilings that made up the abandoned building. It was the perfect place to hide a state-of-the-art secret laboratory. From the outside, the building’s original purpose was almost impossible to discern. Had it been a hotel? An apartment building? A department store? The ruins weren’t telling. Mold and filth festooned the walls and floors. A musty stench hung in the air.

Dr. Myasey observed the care with which Spats kept his pristine white spats from getting dirty as he walked. The effort might have seemed prissy, if not for the fact that this man was a king of the underworld.

What does he want? Dr. Myasey wondered. It had been a long time since Spats had come to the lab himself. When he wanted to check on the Doctor’s progress, the Don usually sent one of his lackeys, or made a simple phone call.

Something’s happening. Science, Science, La La La… What do you want, Don Colombo? What do you want?

At last, the two men exited the ruined building and walked out into a dark alley. Spats took a final drag of his cigarette, tossed it to the ground, and stamped it out. He still wasn’t saying a word. Instead, the mobster looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, and its dark blue color was deepening toward black. Soon enough, it would be fully night.

“Ever seen that thing before?” Spats asked.

Dr. Myasey followed Spats’ gaze to the Needle emblazoned with the Clothiers coat of arms. His voice was full of venom when he replied. “Hmm, yes, I’ve seen it.”

Spats nodded. “That’s what I thought, Doc. See, I figured, if anybody could tell me what that thing was doing here, in my city, it’d be you.”

The scientist’s demeanor had completely changed. His eyes were alive with livid hate. His teeth were clamped together in a soundless snarl.

Spats glanced at Dr. Myasey and raised an eyebrow. “This gonna be a problem, Doc?”

Dr. Myasey’s head snapped toward the mob boss, but Spats was pulling his ringing phone from his pocket. He raised a finger for the Doctor to wait. A fresh wave of fury blossomed within the Doctor at this disrespect.

Who do you think you are, Don Colombo? Don’t you know who I am?! Me, the god of science? ME?!

“Three-three-one,” Spats muttered into the phone, then listened for a long moment. “Yeah? Alright,” he finally said. “Trust your gut, Toothpick. Bring Patchwork to my office. I’ll have a conversation with him myself.”

The mobster hung up and sighed heavily. “Why’s everybody gotta get so damn greedy, Doc?”

Dr. Myasey sniffed in amusement, stuffing down his anger for the time being. There would come a time for Spats Colombo to learn his place, but it wasn’t tonight. Shaking it off, he said, “It’s human nature, Spats. That’s all it is. Science, Science… Kings like us are above that kind of thing.”

Spats nodded to himself. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then the mob boss looked at the scientist thoughtfully. “My artist got hired by The Clothiers today.”

Dr. Myasey’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?! That’s… excellent news! So, then, the plan is progressing?”

“Yeah,” Spats replied. He met Dr. Myasey’s eyes. “Why don’t you come back to HQ with me, Doc? We can talk more there. Something came up I need to take care of.”

“Well…”

“You can play with your lab assistants anytime, Doc,” Spats said with a knowing look.

Dr. Myasey sighed and nodded. “Very well, La La La...”

Spats led the way to a car he’d stashed in the alley. The two men climbed in and took off. Soon, they were speeding over the city towards the Colombo Mafia’s HQ. Neither of them spoke a word as they flew. Spats, deep in thought, was staring down at the city. Dr. Myasey’s eyes were fixed on the Needle that hovered, immense and inscrutable, high above.

***

“Dinner,” said the guard.

Green didn’t look up. They were huddled in a corner of the cage, arms wrapped around their legs, forehead pressed against their knees.

The guard unlocked the cage door and stepped inside, carrying a small platter of food and a cup of water. Despite themself, Green’s stomach growled. The food smelled good.

There was a light clatter as the platter was set on the floor nearby. The guard sniffled loudly. Mongoose, Green thought. That was this guard’s name, or his nickname, anyway.

They all had fancy nicknames here in the Colombo Mafia. Green had heard plenty of them in their time here. There was Mongoose, Two-Fingers, Fat Bob, Monroe…

Babydoll…

At the thought of this last, Green’s cheek prickled painfully.

Green had been beaten up more times than they could count since they and Blue had been kidnapped by the Colombo Mafia. Green had fought back at first, but then Spats threatened to hurt Blue unless they stopped. From then on, Green hadn’t raised a fist against their captors.

In truth, the beatings didn’t bother Green much. They figured that every hit they took was somehow being siphoned away from Blue, and that was just fine with Green. Green could handle it, they could handle it no problem. Yessiree. They’d take those knocks and roll with the punches, just so long as it meant Blue was spared.

Green was a fighter. They’d always been that way. They could take a licking and keep on ticking. They could give as good as they got, too. The odds never really mattered – if there was a tussle, Green would find themself in the thick of it.

Blue, on the other hand, was not a fighter. That much had been obvious from day one.

Now do you want to be my friend, or do I have to save your ass a couple more times to convince you?

Green smiled at the memory.

The sound of Mongoose’s voice was a distant irritant. He was tossing a few insults Green’s way as he left the cage, but Green didn’t respond. Their mind was far away. Here, with their face pressed against their knees, they could smile unseen. They could feel safe in this little world whose boundaries were defined by the heat of their own body.

How long had they been here? They had given up counting the days after the first few weeks. It was a little unnerving to not know how much time had passed, but it was better than the crushing bleakness of endless tally marks.

There was a loud click as Mongoose locked the cage door. Then his light footsteps faded into the distance, followed by a thock as the outer door was closed. Green looked up. They were alone again.

Good. Great.

Green stood abruptly, shaking themself from the brink of a terrible emotional cliff. This was no time to be feeling sorry for themself – Blue was counting on them to find a way out of this. To come to their rescue, the way they always had. The way they always would.

Green began to duck and weave, jabbing at the air, sparring with an imaginary opponent. They blew out little puffs of breath with each punch, dancing with the practiced grace of a boxer.

Their air punches flew quicker and quicker. A ferocious light gleamed in their eyes. They saw the faces of their enemies before them, as real as the punching bag they used to practice on back home. Now they were punching Mongoose. Now Tiny. Now Babydoll. Now Spats.

Soon Green’s forehead was beading with sweat. Their heart was thumping in a quick, steady rhythm. Their bruises sang with pain, their limbs protested, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was the fact that soon, very soon, the moment would arrive for Green to fight back. They would come to Blue’s rescue. The way they always had. The way they always would.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The punches flew.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The roller coaster cars whipped past.

Whoosh. Whoosh…

***

THREE MONTHS AGO

WHOOSH!

The wind from the passing ride blew Blue and Green’s hair. Blue laughed as Green let out a whoop of excitement.

“Hell yeah!” Green roared. “Let’s GOOO!”

Green snatched Blue’s hand and pulled them along as they ran through the festival. They laughed as they dodged through the crowds, darted between families, dashed past security guards. The moon was full and bright and huge in the sky, its golden glow mixing with the many-colored lights of the festival. The crisp scent of popcorn and caramel and funnel cakes filled the air.

Calliope music mingled with the laughter of children and the hum of adult conversation. Here, a mother held her small child up to see a clown. There, a gang of small boys raced each other to the shoot-the-chute. Everywhere were smiling faces and carefree voices.

“C’mon, keep up!” Green laughed.

They put on another burst of speed. The festival flashed by them in a blur of color and light. Green wanted to stop at every attraction that caught their attention, and there was no time to waste. Blue just enjoyed the ride. Green was the best at this kind of thing. Choosing where to go and what to do. Thinking of the most exciting and fun ideas and charging after them without looking back.

“What’s the rush? I’m gonna beat you anyway!” Blue teased.

Green abruptly stopped running and whirled on Blue with a competitive glint in their eye. Something panged in Blue’s chest – their heart? What an odd feeling. They shook it off and returned the look.

“Oh yeah? Wanna bet on it?” Green challenged.

Blue raised a fist. “You’re on!”

Green raised their fist and pressed it against Blue’s. The touch of Blue’s hand against theirs sent a sudden thrill tingling like goosebumps through Green’s body. Electric shock, Green thought wildly, but that was crazy. It was just Blue. The only thing electric about Blue was the color of their hair, hair that Green suddenly wanted to touch very badly.

But that was crazy, right? Sure, crazy. Obviously.

What a weird thought.

“Best two out of three, loser buys ferris wheel tickets,” Green smiled.

Blue nodded. Their heart had panged again at the rough sound of Green’s voice. The hell? But it was over as soon as it had started. The feeling, whatever it had been, faded.

The two of them turned and walked toward the nearby game booths. Though neither of them was conscious of it, they were careful not to let their hands touch as they walked.

CHALLENGE BEGIN!

Stop 1: Ring Toss!

A portly man wearing an absurdly tall top hat and sporting a carefully waxed mustache laughed jovially as Blue and Green approached the ring toss booth.

“Why, you! Yes, you! You two! You two true blue – and green,” he said with a wink, “…Central City youths, through and through! Take a look at these rings, you just need to toss them through those targets for big prizes! Who’s first of you two, who’ll be the one who threw the winning ring?!”

“Is it hard to come up with those rhymes?” Blue giggled.

The portly man grinned modestly. “Not a jot! Perish the thought. Now step right up and take your shot!”

Blue shrugged at Green, who was laughing hysterically. They took the three silver rings the portly man offered them and stepped up to the counter. Some old speakers set into the booth’s upper corners crackled to life with a fast-paced xylophone tune. The ring targets juddered into movement, sliding up and down in repetitive patterns.

Blue took careful aim, oddly conscious of Green’s eyes watching them. They threw the three rings quickly one after another. Each one sailed gracefully through the targets and landed on the pegs. The portly man let out an exuberant cry.

“Incredible! Impossible! What talent! What grace! Each and every ring landed in the right place!” He gestured to Green, whose eyes were wide with amazement. “Now come on my friend, don’t shrink in disgrace! Challenge the champion, wipe that look off your face!”

Without a word, Green stepped up…

…And missed all three tosses.

“Victory!” Blue cried.

Green gave them a mischievous look. “It’s not over yet, Blue! I’m gonna kick your ass at the next one!”

The portly man doffed his top hat to them both and offered Blue a stuffed animal backpack from the prize rack. Blue shouldered it, then the two of them headed for the next booth.

CHALLENGE CONTINUE!

Stop 2: Strongman Game!

“Now this is more my style!” Green said, looking up at the metal target at the top of the strongman game.

Blue sighed with a deadpan expression. “Yeah, I wonder who’s gonna win this one…”

Green winked. “Just watch and learn, Blue. Watch and learn.”

“HYOOOO!!!” Roared the game attendant, flexing like a body builder.

Green did a double take. “Wait, aren’t you…?”

The strongman, wearing a leotard that was too tight for his portly form, sported a familiar carefully waxed mustache.

He looks just like the guy at the ring toss, thought Blue. They scratched their head. “Hey, uh, weren’t you at the last game we played?”

The strongman let out another growling roar, flexing ridiculously as he did so. Now that Blue and Green took a good look at him, he really wasn’t muscular at all.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my strapping young friends!” He said, voice somewhat strained from the effort that all his posing was taking. “I’m the strongest man in the world, and that includes my most powerful muscle – MY MIND!!!”

The last two words came out as a strangled war cry. A nearby mother gave him a concerned look and quickly ushered her small daughter away.

Blue and Green glanced at one another and shrugged. Stretching their arms above their head, Green walked casually toward the strongman.

The strongman picked up a mallet and offered it to Green. “Ah, a new challenger appears! Take a swing and give life to the warrior within!”

Green took the mallet and smirked back at Blue, who rolled their eyes with a sigh. After rubbing their hands together and doing a few hops for good measure, Green raised the mallet high above their head and brought it thundering down onto the lever.

There was a loud whine as the weight was launched up toward the target. It smashed against the metal with an earsplitting DING!

Nodding casually to the wildly gesticulating strongman, Green swaggered back over to Blue, holding out the mallet. “Your turn!”

Blue took the mallet and dragged it toward the strongman game. Then a thought sprang to their mind. Just kick Green’s ass and wipe that smirk off their face. The thought made Blue’s eyes narrow with determination, and they raised the mallet with a grunt.

They fell on their ass with a whumpf as they overbalanced and dropped the mallet.

Green burst out laughing. Blue snarled in irritation, climbed to their feet, picked up the mallet, gave Green the finger, and then brought down the mallet onto the lever with all their might.

Whzzzzzhh… Hhzooooooothunk

The weight didn’t even make it halfway up the tower before dropping back to the bottom. Blue bit their lower lip in frustration. As the pair of them walked away from the game, leaving the strongman posing enthusiastically for anyone who would look, Green felt an odd swoon in their stomach. It was something about the way Blue was biting their lip...

But no. Nah, nah, no way. That was crazy. They were friends. Best friends. It was stupid to look at Blue that way.

Right?

They shook the feeling away. There was one more game to go, and both of them were determined to win…

FINAL CHALLENGE!

Stop 3: Skeeball!

“Skeeball! Skeeball! Sink the ball into the targets to win points and claim fabulous prizes!”

There was a short line ahead of Blue and Green at the skeeball booth. The attendant was a very tall man with a huge jaw.

“Well, at least it’s not that mustache guy again,” Blue chuckled. “He was starting to weird me out, you know?”

Green laughed along, but that odd swooning feeling hadn’t fully evaporated yet. They had known each other for so long… Green had heard that same chuckle countless times, had seen Blue bite their lower lip when they were frustrated before… And hell, they had held hands before, it was no big deal, right?

So why, tonight, was something different?

The line thinned ahead of them. Just before it was Blue and Green’s turn, the attendant raised a hand. “Just a sec, okay? My replacement’s here,” he said.

“Replacement?” Green whispered.

Suddenly, a portly man with a carefully waxed mustache tapped the large-jawed attendant on the shoulder.

“You have got to be kidding,” Blue said flatly.

“Maybe they’re triplets?”

“No way in hell.”

The portly man was now sporting an extravagant multi-colored tuxedo with an oversized bow tie. He glanced at the two of them and winked as the large-jawed man walked away.

HE’S SCREWING WITH US!!! Blue and Green thought in unison.

“Alright, alright, alright!” Said the portly man. “See here, kids, it’s your turn to skeeball, alright? So step on up, each of you take a lane, alright? Alright!”

Exchanging a look of resigned bewilderment, the two of them stepped up to the game and stood in front of adjacent skeeball lanes.

“Alright, alright, alright!” The portly man yelled. “Roll the balls, hit the targets, get the points, win the prizes! On your mark, get set… ALRIGHT!”

The game bell trilled loudly, and smooth wooden balls rolled down the ramps to Blue and Green. Each of them grabbed a ball, then they looked at each other.

“You ready?” Green taunted.

“Always,” Blue retorted.

“Ready… Steady… GO!” They cried in unison.

They rolled their first balls. They sped up the ramps neck-and-neck. Blue’s angled slightly to the left, while Green’s veered right. Both balls missed the targets entirely, and rolled through the ZERO POINTS holes at the bottom of the game.

Undaunted, the two of them rolled again. This time, Blue got 20 points, and Green got 15. On the third roll, their points were reversed. The two of them were now tied with 35 points apiece. Two more balls to go.

“Hope you brought money to buy ferris wheel tickets!” said Green.

“You should worry about your own wallet,” Blue winked back.

They rolled their fourth balls. Once again, they both missed. ZERO POINTS.

“Alright, alright, alright! Just one more ball to go, alright? Make this one count!” Said the portly man.

An electric tingle of energy filled the air. Blue’s heart was racing. For some reason they didn’t understand, they needed to win this. They needed Green to see how cool they could be. But, actually, did it really matter? Either way, no matter who won, wouldn’t they end up sitting together in the ferris wheel anyway? Sitting so close together, high up in the air, surrounded by the night sky and the city lights…

Stop it! Blue chided themself. They took a quick breath and nodded to Green, who nodded back.

Then both of them rolled their final ball.

The game bell rang out. The two of them stared, stunned, at the blinking lights at the top of the game machine.

Both balls had sailed, in perfect synchronization, directly into the 100 POINTS!!! target.

CHALLENGE COMPLETE!

Result: DRAW!

“ALRIGHT!” The portly man clapped vigorously. “Alright, alright, alright! What a display of accuracy! That was alright! Alright, alright, alright!”

Blue and Green looked at one another. Both of their faces were flushed. Both of their hearts were pounding.

“So, uh… It’s a draw,” Green said slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so,” said Blue. “So… what does that mean?”

Green looked down thoughtfully. “I guess… I guess it means each of us buys the other’s ticket?”

Blue nodded. “Yeah, okay. That sounds… good.”

The two of them stood there for what felt like a very long time. Then Blue held out a hand to Green. For some reason, though their hand looked steady, it felt like it was trembling.

“Right,” said Green. They hesitated for a moment, then took Blue’s hand.

The two of them walked toward the ferris wheel that towered over the festival, neither of them saying a word.

***

The portly man watched them walk away.

“Game’s closed,” he said absently to the people in line. Ignoring their groans and protests, he began to follow Blue and Green through the crowd, keeping a careful distance.

He raised a phone to his ear. It rang twice, then a voice answered, “Customer service?”

“I need a new warranty,” the portly man replied.

“Okay, go ahead, Bonaparte.”

“I’m tailing the artist now,” said Bonaparte. “Festival district. Looks like they’re going to the ferris wheel. Tell Spats if he wants to make a move, he needs to do it now.”

“Wait… Now?”

“Yeah. Now,” Bonaparte said, then closed the phone with a snap.

He watched Blue and Green’s vivid hair bobbing through the crowd ahead of him. Though his face was expressionless, his eyes were alight with the hunger of a hunter.