Authors Note: I've recently been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes which affected my ability to write stories on my iPhone. My vision has now stabilized and I'm back to writing.
Also, this storyline was initially meant to be non erotic, but has evolved with an increasing amount of science fiction. I've yet to decide whether or not to include sexual activity, but if I feel it's necessary to further the story, then I will incorporate it.
Hugs and kisses, Kantarii
+++++++Chapter 2+++++++
The sound of a wooden door slamming shut reverberates through Ethan's office, rattling the pictures on the wall. Anger culminates within him; his face begins to turn red. After a long, deep breath, he collapses in his leather chair and exhales.
Seconds feel like eternity as he waits for Brett to vacate listening range. Soon, his frustration reaches a breaking point. He whips the back of his hand across his desk, slinging stuff into the floor.
"What a fucking dick! It'll take all evening to do that report."
Suddenly, there's a knock on the office door.
"Come in," Ethan summons, pushing a button on his desk.
"Is everything alright," Karen asks, leaning her head through the doorway.
"Yeah," he mumbles, rubbing his forehead.
"What happened in here," she asks, noticing the mess on the floor.
"You don't want to know," he says.
"I'm leaving early."
"That's fine," he says, gesturing his hand.
"Do you need anything before I leave?"
"Where did they take Amber," he asks.
"They took her down to the 3rd floor."
"I need to ask her a few more questions," he says.
"Brett's going to transfer her tomorrow."
"Fuck," he blurts.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, he's just making my job difficult," he says.
"Is there anything else, Ethan?"
"I should be okay, Karen."
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she says, closing the door behind her.
When Karen's gone, Ethan opens a drawer, takes out his notepad and reads over some of his notes. Then, he sifts through the books on the shelves searching for some information on aggressive mimicry. Unable to find what he's looking for, he sits down at his desk and turns on the computer.
Hours pass as he leaps from one web page to the next. As he skims through various articles, something catches his eye - a beautiful pink and white orchid mantis. His mind churns as he studies images of the alluring, alien-like insect. After jotting down a few quick notes, he replays the video of Amber's interview, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Towards the end, he notices a blur.
"What the -," he mumbles, rewinding the video.
Over and over, he rewatches the segment, staring at the screen. Then, out of curiosity, he plays it in slow motion and sees Amber taking the ink pen off his desk.
"I didn't see that happen."
Eventually, fatigue from a long work day wears on his mind. He rubs his eyes, then glances at his watch; sighing.
"Brett's report can fucking wait."
Suddenly, Amber's strange language begins to echo inside his head, then unsettling images of her begging for help wander into his mind. As his discontent grows, conflicting thoughts about his obligations start playing tug-of-war with his humanity. Perhaps it's his attraction to her that pulls the hardest.
He turns off the computer and tears the page of notes from his notepad, stuffing it into his pocket. Then, he opens a desk drawer, grabs a flat headed screwdriver and storms out of his office. His pace quickens as he passes the reception area, heading into the outer waiting room.
Movement triggers motion detectors once he opens the main office door. Once he places the palm of his hand on a high-tech scanner, a spherical security drone the size of a bowling ball descends from the ceiling. Hovering above the floor, it begins to gyrate while hundreds of tiny laser lenses create a realistic hologram of a security guard. As it takes shape, the lights dim and simulated sounds of heavy footsteps reverberate in the darkened hallway.
"Dr. Ethan Thomas," the security guard greets, approaching Ethan.
"That would be me," Ethan says.
"You're the last occupant on this floor."
"So it would seem," he mumbles, heading for the elevator.
Artificial intelligence scans Ethan, processing vital information while it follows him to the elevator.
"Your heart rate is slightly elevated and you're carrying a metallic object."
"I locked my keys in my vehicle," he lies.
"Would you like some assistance?"
"I can manage on my own," he says, pressing a button to summon the elevator.
"Once you leave, this floor will be inaccessible until tomorrow morning."
"Whatever."
Seconds later, the elevator doors open. Once Ethan steps inside and pushes the button for the 3rd. floor, the hologram disappears. As the doors close, the drone flies away, fading into the shadows.
Adrenaline courses through his veins while the elevator begins its descent. Before it comes to a stop, he opens the escape hatch in the roof. After the doors open, he scans the immediate area, making sure no one is watching. Then, he wedges the screwdriver inside the doorway, keeping them open.
Sounds of chatter nearby arouses his curiosity as he makes his way to the end of the hallway. At the intersection, he leans his head around the corner, observing two security guards at a desk. After assessing the situation, he quietly retreats back up the corridor.
Formulating an escape plan, he takes a empty metal trash can from a nearby office and puts it inside a cleaning closet. He fills it with dirty rags, dry sponges, a few empty plastic bottles, and crumpled paper. After setting it on fire, he closes the door. While the confined space fills with smoke, he heads to the security desk.
"Just admit it, Tim."
"Why are you bugging me about her, Mike?"
"Because there's nothing better to talk about."
"Okay - okay - I would."
