Conspiracy Theory
"I still don't see why you want to talk to Larry."
Rob grunted as she pulled into her parking spot. "He's into conspiracies." He shrugged. "Maybe he's heard something. It's worth a try, anyway."
"I know he's your friend, but you can't really buy into that stuff? It's all crazy talk."
"Most of it is crazy talk," he corrected. "There have been things once relegated to conspiracy theory that have proved to be more true than not. The trick is to sift through the chaff." Rob shrugged again. "No, I don't buy into all of it, but you have to admit this is high strangeness, Deb. I have a wooden arm. Who knows what the others came down with."
She frowned, "Yeah. It is strange. I... guess it doesn't hurt. This is just too weird."
Rob laughed. "Yeah, it is. I appreciate this, Deb."
She looked at him sidelong, "What?"
"Just being here."
Deb snorted, and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Come on, let's get this over with."
"Okay, let's."
"I swear, if he makes another pass at me, I'm kicking him square in the groin. I mean it."
Rob laughed.
She just glared and got out of the car. He followed, but missed the wistful look Deb cast after him as they walked up to the building. Rob fumbled with his keys, a but clumsy with his wooden hand, but managed to get the lock open. He made an annoyed sound and yanked the door open. They went to the short stairwell that lead to the basement, and went down the hallway to Larry's basement apartment.
The basement of the building was originally the basement for a larger building. Twice as wide as the building itself, the contractors found they had made the basement to the wrong dimensions. Instead of starting over, the property's owner authorized a cement patio to surround the building. Over time, and with improvements, this patio become a selling point for the building's residents.
When Larry's parents bought the building years ago, they renovated the basement so that half of it was an apartment, and the other half was storage. When his father died, Larry's mother Millie, asked him to move in and take over maintanance duties for the building. She offered the basement apartment to him, and he's been living there ever since. Even though he won't admit it to his mother, Larry wouldn't change his situation for anything. He also has a thing for Deb, much to her dismay.
"Hey! You got the clothes we put together, bro?"
"Yeah, Larry. Thanks. I'm gonna send your mom some flowers when I get upstairs."
"Ha! She'll love that." He turned his attention to Deb, "Well, hello!"
Deb gave Rob a warning look, and Rob took his cue, moving in and leading Larry deeper into his apartment. It was a modest apartment, but it reflected the occupant well. Scattered on small shelves here and there were small pieces of machinery. Gears and cogs strewn about, but in an oddly orderly way.
"Oh, Robbie! I've got to show you something." He walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down a small clockwork looking device. It had a spool of thread and what looked like an open safety pin sitting in a clip.
"What's that?"
"It's a grappling hook." He shrugged. "I was watching one of those medival movies on cable, and they had modified a catapault to fire an arrow with rope on the end. I was bored, and I had the parts."
"Does it work?" Deb asked.
Larry frowned thoughtfully. "Mostly. It needs more range, and I might swap out the safety pin later, but it's all I had at the moment."
Rob shook his head. "No wonder it doesn't take long to get things fixed around here," he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hey, I got a question for you."
"Shoot, bro."
"You keep track of all the conspiracy stuff, you hear anything odd about the CDC?"
Larry squinted at the cieling and thought, "The CDC," he bit his lip, then broke into a smile. "Oh, yeah. I have. The subject's been a bit quiet lately, but that doesn't mean squat. C'mon, let me look through my bookmarks. What're you looking for?"
"Oh, uh, nothing specific really. Just in general."
Larry gave him a shrewd look. "Okay. Well, here. A bunch of stuff has popped up entering around the university center. People complaining about strange noises, rumbling in the ground, wierd odors, stuff like that." Larry stopped, and thought for a moment. "Y'know, there's been some really strange talk about people around town coming down with..." he looked at Rob, like a light went off in his head. "Okay, spill."
"Uh, what? What'dyou mean?"
"The arm. It's not really a rash is it?"
"Uh," Rob looked over at Deb, she shrugged as if to say 'Might as well.' "Okay. Here's the deal. Apparently, my body, ah, absorbed part of a desk."
Larry blinked, then shrugged. "Not the strangest thing I've heard."
"Not the... Larry my arm is a puppet!"
"Naw, bro. Just wood. You should feel lucky. Someone else apparently now has tentacles instead of fingers."
"That is worse, Rob."
"Yes. Yes it is." Rob looked a bit shell shocked. "I think I need to sit down," he backed up and fell into the tattered couch that Larry proudly proclaimed he'd never get rid of.
Deb leaned on the arm of the couch. "What else?"
"Well, keeping in mind that these are just rumors, the worst I've heard of tells of someone who's hair apparently caught on fire and refuses to be put out. There's the guy who's arm keeps falling off..."
Rob laughed, there was a touch of hysteria in it. Deb laid a hand on his shoulder. "This is nuts, Larry. Why the hell won't the CDC, hell, ANYONE in the government help?"
"Likely it's some kind of experiment. Maybe a weapon or something." Larry shrugged, "It may seem outlandish Rob, but stuff like this happens more than you'd think."
"Well, the doctor at the hospital is trying to keep it as quiet as he can. To stop panic."
Rob nodded, "Deb's right. The doctor himself told me the CDC might know already."
Deb made a noise, "In fact he seemed to know quite a bit."
Larry just nodded his acceptance, as if his friends were telling him about last night's dinner. "Wouldn't surprise me. When this happens, there's usually a local doctor or even a whole hospital in the know."
"I dunno, Larry. Doctor Marqea seemed very guilty, almost scared."
"Y'know Rob, you're right," Deb looked at him, almost surprised at the thought, "And he did mention that he's seen stuff like this in his work."
Larry suddenly stood bolt straight, "Did you say Marqea?" He looked deadly serious.
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
He went over to his computer and tapped up a search and brought the laptop over to Rob. "Because your doctor used to work for the CDC!"
Rob grunted as she pulled into her parking spot. "He's into conspiracies." He shrugged. "Maybe he's heard something. It's worth a try, anyway."
"I know he's your friend, but you can't really buy into that stuff? It's all crazy talk."
"Most of it is crazy talk," he corrected. "There have been things once relegated to conspiracy theory that have proved to be more true than not. The trick is to sift through the chaff." Rob shrugged again. "No, I don't buy into all of it, but you have to admit this is high strangeness, Deb. I have a wooden arm. Who knows what the others came down with."
She frowned, "Yeah. It is strange. I... guess it doesn't hurt. This is just too weird."
Rob laughed. "Yeah, it is. I appreciate this, Deb."
She looked at him sidelong, "What?"
"Just being here."
Deb snorted, and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Come on, let's get this over with."
"Okay, let's."
"I swear, if he makes another pass at me, I'm kicking him square in the groin. I mean it."
Rob laughed.
She just glared and got out of the car. He followed, but missed the wistful look Deb cast after him as they walked up to the building. Rob fumbled with his keys, a but clumsy with his wooden hand, but managed to get the lock open. He made an annoyed sound and yanked the door open. They went to the short stairwell that lead to the basement, and went down the hallway to Larry's basement apartment.
The basement of the building was originally the basement for a larger building. Twice as wide as the building itself, the contractors found they had made the basement to the wrong dimensions. Instead of starting over, the property's owner authorized a cement patio to surround the building. Over time, and with improvements, this patio become a selling point for the building's residents.
When Larry's parents bought the building years ago, they renovated the basement so that half of it was an apartment, and the other half was storage. When his father died, Larry's mother Millie, asked him to move in and take over maintanance duties for the building. She offered the basement apartment to him, and he's been living there ever since. Even though he won't admit it to his mother, Larry wouldn't change his situation for anything. He also has a thing for Deb, much to her dismay.
"Hey! You got the clothes we put together, bro?"
"Yeah, Larry. Thanks. I'm gonna send your mom some flowers when I get upstairs."
"Ha! She'll love that." He turned his attention to Deb, "Well, hello!"
Deb gave Rob a warning look, and Rob took his cue, moving in and leading Larry deeper into his apartment. It was a modest apartment, but it reflected the occupant well. Scattered on small shelves here and there were small pieces of machinery. Gears and cogs strewn about, but in an oddly orderly way.
"Oh, Robbie! I've got to show you something." He walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down a small clockwork looking device. It had a spool of thread and what looked like an open safety pin sitting in a clip.
"What's that?"
"It's a grappling hook." He shrugged. "I was watching one of those medival movies on cable, and they had modified a catapault to fire an arrow with rope on the end. I was bored, and I had the parts."
"Does it work?" Deb asked.
Larry frowned thoughtfully. "Mostly. It needs more range, and I might swap out the safety pin later, but it's all I had at the moment."
Rob shook his head. "No wonder it doesn't take long to get things fixed around here," he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hey, I got a question for you."
"Shoot, bro."
"You keep track of all the conspiracy stuff, you hear anything odd about the CDC?"
Larry squinted at the cieling and thought, "The CDC," he bit his lip, then broke into a smile. "Oh, yeah. I have. The subject's been a bit quiet lately, but that doesn't mean squat. C'mon, let me look through my bookmarks. What're you looking for?"
"Oh, uh, nothing specific really. Just in general."
Larry gave him a shrewd look. "Okay. Well, here. A bunch of stuff has popped up entering around the university center. People complaining about strange noises, rumbling in the ground, wierd odors, stuff like that." Larry stopped, and thought for a moment. "Y'know, there's been some really strange talk about people around town coming down with..." he looked at Rob, like a light went off in his head. "Okay, spill."
"Uh, what? What'dyou mean?"
"The arm. It's not really a rash is it?"
"Uh," Rob looked over at Deb, she shrugged as if to say 'Might as well.' "Okay. Here's the deal. Apparently, my body, ah, absorbed part of a desk."
Larry blinked, then shrugged. "Not the strangest thing I've heard."
"Not the... Larry my arm is a puppet!"
"Naw, bro. Just wood. You should feel lucky. Someone else apparently now has tentacles instead of fingers."
"That is worse, Rob."
"Yes. Yes it is." Rob looked a bit shell shocked. "I think I need to sit down," he backed up and fell into the tattered couch that Larry proudly proclaimed he'd never get rid of.
Deb leaned on the arm of the couch. "What else?"
"Well, keeping in mind that these are just rumors, the worst I've heard of tells of someone who's hair apparently caught on fire and refuses to be put out. There's the guy who's arm keeps falling off..."
Rob laughed, there was a touch of hysteria in it. Deb laid a hand on his shoulder. "This is nuts, Larry. Why the hell won't the CDC, hell, ANYONE in the government help?"
"Likely it's some kind of experiment. Maybe a weapon or something." Larry shrugged, "It may seem outlandish Rob, but stuff like this happens more than you'd think."
"Well, the doctor at the hospital is trying to keep it as quiet as he can. To stop panic."
Rob nodded, "Deb's right. The doctor himself told me the CDC might know already."
Deb made a noise, "In fact he seemed to know quite a bit."
Larry just nodded his acceptance, as if his friends were telling him about last night's dinner. "Wouldn't surprise me. When this happens, there's usually a local doctor or even a whole hospital in the know."
"I dunno, Larry. Doctor Marqea seemed very guilty, almost scared."
"Y'know Rob, you're right," Deb looked at him, almost surprised at the thought, "And he did mention that he's seen stuff like this in his work."
Larry suddenly stood bolt straight, "Did you say Marqea?" He looked deadly serious.
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
He went over to his computer and tapped up a search and brought the laptop over to Rob. "Because your doctor used to work for the CDC!"
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