The company of Terrene was running like a well-oiled machine as Linden looked on the computer screen as the data from all the vertical platforms showed they were functioning properly. Donning on his light blue coat, he contained the curls under a bouffant and filled his pockets with disposable gloves.
"How far along are we with the soil tests from Sites A-E? The wells in Alpha Sector? The rain collection analysis?"
"The soil tests, last I heard, is still another day or two away. The wells in Alpha Sector are repaired and reinforced with an adequate pump. The data for the recent week of rain is above average and we have already begun the purification process."
"Okay, and our back-up resources, have there been any depletion? The Food Waste Program, how is that coming along?" Asked Linden as the assistant followed him out of the control room and down to the main floor where all the vertical platforms were for a visual inspection. The LED colored light algorithm working nicely as he but the main inspection were on for the roots and leaves to see if there were any deficiencies.
"We are accumulating quite nicely on the resources and the deep freeze warehouses are running strongly with weekly maintenance checks. As for the Food Waste Program, we are still getting push-back but we are lucky the Military is allowing us to do a delivery to the city slums once a month if we have anything. It's like some of the people in the Inner Citadel are allowing food to rot."
Ah, yes. The battle of power when it came to resources and the military seized his family's business because why give food to those who needed it and teach them how to grow their own garden? The basic necessities for humans to thrive was taken away as a way to exert control.
Linden would go to each platform to look over the physical charts before having his assistant make notes in the tablet. Taking out a pair of gloves to don on as he would reach in and take a random stem, mark it, and a trim of a root that was not part of the main grouping. "I know I say it all the time but damn, I do love aeroponics."
The assistant pressed a hand to their ear piece and leaned closer to Linden to whisper so no one else could hear. "It appears we have company, Mr. Arcangeli. Shall we head to the office?"
A frown appeared on his face as he let out a sigh and hung his head, but shook a "no". "If someone who is authorized decided to drop in then we continue operations. I am not changing my schedule around to suit their needs, they will suit mine. So take the samples back to the lab and have it be checked and tell the others to send them to me here since I still have work to do."
"You make it sound as though I'm not worth your time, Mr. Arcangeli," a low purr — and a dark, twisted clip to his words as he speaks the man's name. From behind the two, North approaches, escorted by one of the man's men. Though the two little conspirators had spoken in hushed whispers to one another, it wasn't quiet enough for a creature with extraordinary hearing to miss. His ice blue gaze flickers with some emotion as it sharpens, measuring up the man in front of him that he was informed he needed to meet with. Being led around by the Military's chain was tiresome on any ordinary day; forced to visit one of the Military's investments was an entirely different kind of annoyance.
He plays the part well — much to his own chagrin.
A loyal dog to the Military, for the time being. North stops when he's within handshaking distance of the other man, his eyes only briefly looking at the other before settling on Linden once more. He has an intensity about his look, though it's hard to determine if it's because of his station in the Military — or something else. The man's human; he can smell as much, a rich perfume of blood that beckons to his more bestial nature.
"I would hope that's not the case," he hums as he tilts his head slightly, observing the other before he draws his hand out to invite a polite handshake. "North Sigurd, Military Major and Operations Manager." His full title, just in case Linden thinks he's in the presence of someone unworthy.
It's not unknown that the Military has high standards when it comes to the companies under their umbrella, and how they expect themselves to be treated by such companies. North knows very well the power he holds in his name and title alone; a power he also exudes as a vampire, even if his true identity is still carefully hidden from the public. But he holds himself to a standard that would be expected of someone in such a high ranking position in the Military. His gaze never once wavers from Linden, a wicked grin curling across his lips.
The voice was no stranger to Linden even if he didn't have to personally deal with him in the past. Nonetheless, Linden had to wonder what the hell was in the water as he wouldn't have minded an extra couple of inches just for personal reasons. You know, just to meet the six foot club at least.
An eavesdropper too. Not the worst trait, I suppose, and I can tell he is arrogant as hell.
Nonetheless, he schooled his face and smiled at the man before him. Removing his gloves and cleansing his hands with a towelette. "Welcome, Major Sigurd," he replied and extended his hand to give the man a firm shake and didn't look away from their gaze. Instead to make sure to match their intensity since he be damned be pushed around. "Since you didn't wait and entered as you pleased and overheard what I was saying. If you would have made an appointment then I could have gotten any charts or reports that you and your people would be interested in. Otherwise, we are in a time of pruning and finalizing soil composites and making sure everything is going to be ready for the upcoming season."
Name dropping is the same as comparing metaphorical dicks, he sighed and brought back his hand and looked to the other men that were with the Major. His lips twitching upward at the sheer idea of them having to follow the same rules as everyone else in this building. "As you know, Major Sigurd, the only reason why the Military has their teeth and claws into Terrene is because those who control the food controls the people. Your group don't want people to be self-sustaining which means more pressure on us to ensure we have resources and funds to keep everything going like a well-oiled machine.
That said, Major or not, you all must follow the same guidelines as the rest of us as a form of respect to what we do. So please, wear the booties, the bouffant, and a yellow jacket that will designate you are visitors. I will show you around if that is what you wish and what I have planned for growth for the Spring season. Is that too unreasonable?" The family raised no fools and he wasn't going to be like the others and cower and bend to the military's will either.
Posted 01-22-2024, 01:29 AM
This post was last modified: 01-22-2024, 02:57 AM by Linden Arcangeli
When bugs come in
