FIC: A Mighty Debt Owed
Nov. 3rd, 2007 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: A Mighty Debt Owed
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wizefics
Fandom: Original Fiction - set inside the Absent Heroes Universe
Prompt: 67 - Bangkok at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Warnings: Some mild language
Rating: Teen
Summary: It's a world where superheroes are no longer needed. A world where peace finally reigns supreme. At least on the surface. Still, some wonder if the price of peace may prove to be too great.
Disclaimer: This is a small section set inside a bigger work. I hope it stands on its own well enough to suffice as a story for this prompt. The concept of Absent Heroes is copyrighted and belongs to a select few.
A/N: I'm one of those crazy people trying to make NaNo and TTM prompts fit into the same piece of literature. Apologies if this doesn't stand on its own well enough to be independent.
*****************
The sound of helicopter blades ripped through the air as David waited on the roof of MetaCorp. To his left, three aides waited impatiently for the chopper to land. As soon as it did, one of the younger guys dashed over to the door, ducking needlessly and David shook his head. The aide opened the door and a man that David instantly recognized stepped out. Peter Burke looked every inch the international tycoon playboy that he was now. He walked towards the door, his head bent towards the aide who was rapid fire yelling information at him. His dark suit, undoubtedly designer and undoubtedly expensive, fit him perfectly, highlighting all 6 foot 2 inches of muscle and style. David shook his head again, unable to repress a grin. Peter was wearing his hair long still, and it looked surprisingly good, despite the fact that it was completely silver now.
The business giant was crossing the roof with rapid steps, barking questions at the aides who now scurried around him. From where he stood, David could hear questions about stock points and mergers and something that sounded like a comment about dinner reservations. Unable to stay silent any longer, David stepped out into Peter’s path. “If your biggest worry is dinner reservations, you can give me back that $20 I loaned you after my wedding.” He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard over the dying whine of the helicopter motor and Peter stopped short.
With a quick move, Peter pulled his sunglasses off and stared at David with his jaw hanging open. Then he gave a loud whoop and leapt towards David with a bound. “You sneaky son of a bitch! When did you get into town?” David didn’t have time to answer before Peter had crushed him in a hug. David wheezed out a grunt of laughter as Peter dropped him to start immediately pounding on his back. The aides were all staring at David with renewed interest, desperately trying to place his face since their boss so obviously held him in high esteem. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” Peter barked, turning to the young aide that had rushed to greet him at the helicopter.
David took pity on the younger man who had a blank look on his face. “It was a surprise,” David filled in smoothly, bringing Peter’s attention back to him with a smile.
“It was!” Looking at the aide again, he shook his head. “Cancel all my plans for the rest of the day.”
“What about the Board Meeting?” A brunette female aide ventured cautiously, but Peter just waved a hand dismissively.
“Cancel everything. Then Senator and I are going out.” Peter grinned and David caught he astonished looks that the aides shot each other at his title. Bemused, David shot Peter a slightly disbelieving look. Peter grinned back and rolled his eyes. Clearing his throat, Peter turned to glare at his aides. "You kids need to start reading the news. This is David Miller, current United States Senator to the World Senate, former co-founder and co-leader of the Protectorate." At their blank looks, Peter sighed. "His code name was Paladin?" Light bulbs went on around the group and Peter shook his head. "You infants at least remember that I was Altimus right?" They mumbled an affirmative and Peter turned to David. “Kids. They don’t know a god-damned thing.”
Leaving the now embarrassed and disgruntled aides to bring in his briefcase and whatever else they were getting from the helicopter, Peter threw an arm around David’s shoulders and led him inside.
“Where are you coming from?” David asked, curiously. “Your staff said you weren’t available until tomorrow, but your housekeeper told me you’d be back today and I should catch you when you landed.”
“Bangkok,” Peter shrugged. “MetaCorp business. Nothing too pressing. I flew in today and had the chopper come and get me at the airport.” He grinned. “I’m glad I did. Remind me to give Ms. Rae, the housekeeper, a raise!”
“Why?”
“Because she’s not supposed to tell people where I am, but when you called… she knew to make an exception.” Peter grinned and slapped him on the back. “Let’s go get a beer.” David laughed and allowed himself to be swept into the whirlwind that always surrounded Peter.
An hour later, and two beers into their evening, Peter leaned back against the grainy wooden booth that he’d chosen in the back corner of one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall bars. “So, David, do you want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
“What makes you think I have ulterior motives?” David asked casually.
Peter gave him a scathing look. “Do me a favor, David, and don’t act like I’m an idiot. We’ve known each other far too long for that game.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.” David’s retort was surprised, but not as surprised as he felt when Peter snorted at him.
“Give me a break, David. You’ve barely spoken to me in the past three years.”
“I’ve been busy,” David retorted defensively.
“Yeah, but that’s not it and we both know it. You haven’t spoken to me hardly at all since MetaCorp acquired Bellgrande Pharmaceuticals three years ago.” David stared at the table top, drumming his fingers along it lightly, before he shrugged and looked up.
“I was disappointed that you chose you participate in the genetic modification industry, yes. I fought against the acquisition and when I left that last Board Meeting, you made it clear that you were furious with me. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me much after that.”
Peter frowned at him. “You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, David. But I’m not the one who quit returning phone calls.” He reached out and put his hand on David’s stopping him from drumming his fingers and then crossed his arms. “And it’s hardly the first time we fought about the right way to approach a situation. In fact, considering some of our more spectacular blowouts when we were in the Protectorate, this barely counted as a quarrel.”
“I know that genetic modification has become a part of our world, but I don’t necessarily like it.” David retorted with growing irritation. “The more we alter the human make up, the more we interfere with the nature of man. What about free will, Peter?”
Peter snorted. “What about cancer? And Alzheimer’s? And Parkinson’s?” He glared across the table, their beers forgotten. “We’ve been able to make strides against all of these diseases because of the research done at places like Bellgrande. Besides,” he stressed, “unlike some of us at the table, I don’t work for an organization that encourages that genetic modification become a way of life.”
David flushed, but he met Peter’s eyes steadily. “Point taken. I know that altering the human genome to affect man’s capacity for violence had done much good in the world, but every year fewer metahumans are born.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who always stressed that meta or not, we were all the same.”
"And I still believe that. That’s why I can’t help but feel guilty at the abilities we may have denied people because of this testing, which we encourage so heavily. What if we find out in the next hundred years that it’s not just meta abilities and violence that we’ve eliminated, not just Alzheimer’s and Parkinson? What if we destroy the human ability to create art? Music? Literature?”
For a long moment, they sat in silence, then Peter sighed and picked up his beer. “Then we’re going to owe the future a very large apology.” He took a deep swallow and David mimicked him, picking up his own beer.
“I’m afraid that an apology won’t even begin to cover what we’ll owe.”
Author:
wizeficsFandom: Original Fiction - set inside the Absent Heroes Universe
Prompt: 67 - Bangkok at
tamingthemuseWarnings: Some mild language
Rating: Teen
Summary: It's a world where superheroes are no longer needed. A world where peace finally reigns supreme. At least on the surface. Still, some wonder if the price of peace may prove to be too great.
Disclaimer: This is a small section set inside a bigger work. I hope it stands on its own well enough to suffice as a story for this prompt. The concept of Absent Heroes is copyrighted and belongs to a select few.
A/N: I'm one of those crazy people trying to make NaNo and TTM prompts fit into the same piece of literature. Apologies if this doesn't stand on its own well enough to be independent.
*****************
The sound of helicopter blades ripped through the air as David waited on the roof of MetaCorp. To his left, three aides waited impatiently for the chopper to land. As soon as it did, one of the younger guys dashed over to the door, ducking needlessly and David shook his head. The aide opened the door and a man that David instantly recognized stepped out. Peter Burke looked every inch the international tycoon playboy that he was now. He walked towards the door, his head bent towards the aide who was rapid fire yelling information at him. His dark suit, undoubtedly designer and undoubtedly expensive, fit him perfectly, highlighting all 6 foot 2 inches of muscle and style. David shook his head again, unable to repress a grin. Peter was wearing his hair long still, and it looked surprisingly good, despite the fact that it was completely silver now.
The business giant was crossing the roof with rapid steps, barking questions at the aides who now scurried around him. From where he stood, David could hear questions about stock points and mergers and something that sounded like a comment about dinner reservations. Unable to stay silent any longer, David stepped out into Peter’s path. “If your biggest worry is dinner reservations, you can give me back that $20 I loaned you after my wedding.” He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard over the dying whine of the helicopter motor and Peter stopped short.
With a quick move, Peter pulled his sunglasses off and stared at David with his jaw hanging open. Then he gave a loud whoop and leapt towards David with a bound. “You sneaky son of a bitch! When did you get into town?” David didn’t have time to answer before Peter had crushed him in a hug. David wheezed out a grunt of laughter as Peter dropped him to start immediately pounding on his back. The aides were all staring at David with renewed interest, desperately trying to place his face since their boss so obviously held him in high esteem. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” Peter barked, turning to the young aide that had rushed to greet him at the helicopter.
David took pity on the younger man who had a blank look on his face. “It was a surprise,” David filled in smoothly, bringing Peter’s attention back to him with a smile.
“It was!” Looking at the aide again, he shook his head. “Cancel all my plans for the rest of the day.”
“What about the Board Meeting?” A brunette female aide ventured cautiously, but Peter just waved a hand dismissively.
“Cancel everything. Then Senator and I are going out.” Peter grinned and David caught he astonished looks that the aides shot each other at his title. Bemused, David shot Peter a slightly disbelieving look. Peter grinned back and rolled his eyes. Clearing his throat, Peter turned to glare at his aides. "You kids need to start reading the news. This is David Miller, current United States Senator to the World Senate, former co-founder and co-leader of the Protectorate." At their blank looks, Peter sighed. "His code name was Paladin?" Light bulbs went on around the group and Peter shook his head. "You infants at least remember that I was Altimus right?" They mumbled an affirmative and Peter turned to David. “Kids. They don’t know a god-damned thing.”
Leaving the now embarrassed and disgruntled aides to bring in his briefcase and whatever else they were getting from the helicopter, Peter threw an arm around David’s shoulders and led him inside.
“Where are you coming from?” David asked, curiously. “Your staff said you weren’t available until tomorrow, but your housekeeper told me you’d be back today and I should catch you when you landed.”
“Bangkok,” Peter shrugged. “MetaCorp business. Nothing too pressing. I flew in today and had the chopper come and get me at the airport.” He grinned. “I’m glad I did. Remind me to give Ms. Rae, the housekeeper, a raise!”
“Why?”
“Because she’s not supposed to tell people where I am, but when you called… she knew to make an exception.” Peter grinned and slapped him on the back. “Let’s go get a beer.” David laughed and allowed himself to be swept into the whirlwind that always surrounded Peter.
An hour later, and two beers into their evening, Peter leaned back against the grainy wooden booth that he’d chosen in the back corner of one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall bars. “So, David, do you want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
“What makes you think I have ulterior motives?” David asked casually.
Peter gave him a scathing look. “Do me a favor, David, and don’t act like I’m an idiot. We’ve known each other far too long for that game.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.” David’s retort was surprised, but not as surprised as he felt when Peter snorted at him.
“Give me a break, David. You’ve barely spoken to me in the past three years.”
“I’ve been busy,” David retorted defensively.
“Yeah, but that’s not it and we both know it. You haven’t spoken to me hardly at all since MetaCorp acquired Bellgrande Pharmaceuticals three years ago.” David stared at the table top, drumming his fingers along it lightly, before he shrugged and looked up.
“I was disappointed that you chose you participate in the genetic modification industry, yes. I fought against the acquisition and when I left that last Board Meeting, you made it clear that you were furious with me. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me much after that.”
Peter frowned at him. “You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, David. But I’m not the one who quit returning phone calls.” He reached out and put his hand on David’s stopping him from drumming his fingers and then crossed his arms. “And it’s hardly the first time we fought about the right way to approach a situation. In fact, considering some of our more spectacular blowouts when we were in the Protectorate, this barely counted as a quarrel.”
“I know that genetic modification has become a part of our world, but I don’t necessarily like it.” David retorted with growing irritation. “The more we alter the human make up, the more we interfere with the nature of man. What about free will, Peter?”
Peter snorted. “What about cancer? And Alzheimer’s? And Parkinson’s?” He glared across the table, their beers forgotten. “We’ve been able to make strides against all of these diseases because of the research done at places like Bellgrande. Besides,” he stressed, “unlike some of us at the table, I don’t work for an organization that encourages that genetic modification become a way of life.”
David flushed, but he met Peter’s eyes steadily. “Point taken. I know that altering the human genome to affect man’s capacity for violence had done much good in the world, but every year fewer metahumans are born.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who always stressed that meta or not, we were all the same.”
"And I still believe that. That’s why I can’t help but feel guilty at the abilities we may have denied people because of this testing, which we encourage so heavily. What if we find out in the next hundred years that it’s not just meta abilities and violence that we’ve eliminated, not just Alzheimer’s and Parkinson? What if we destroy the human ability to create art? Music? Literature?”
For a long moment, they sat in silence, then Peter sighed and picked up his beer. “Then we’re going to owe the future a very large apology.” He took a deep swallow and David mimicked him, picking up his own beer.
“I’m afraid that an apology won’t even begin to cover what we’ll owe.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-04 10:17 am (UTC)The characters are well drawn too, their different perspectives and attitudes clear, as are their commonalities, and those are not only in the past. This is very good. So if you are writing it for NaNo, we can expect a few more snippets, yes? *hopes*
no subject
Date: 2007-11-06 05:16 pm (UTC)