Carter knotted his hair tie around his wrist. Allan was intrigued, he could hear it in the man’s voice. “Immortal seems a bit much,” he said. “But I can’t see it as anything else.” He knelt by the water, hovering his hand over its rapids. “I’d have to doubt the water to be dangerous, though contaminated, yes. The bacteria probably isn’t in the river.” He paused.

Carter had to wonder why Allan could be interested in what he had to say. By his appearance, immediate body language, and the tone in his voice, he hardly cared to understand what Carter had to say. Conversing with a stranger about the habits of genetically-altered bacteria hardly seemed his style, but Carter couldn’t jump to conclusions. Even the roughest, most uncaring individuals could have a fascination in science. Not two hours ago he had been lying in his office, cursing the kids in detention downstairs and trying to sleep, and now he was wired with energy and interest in the strange new compound, one the botanists from the bar were so confused on.

“I’ve only ever seen this reaction once.” Carter said. “Once naturally. It was in a lake, somewhere through one of the smaller east tunnels. I found the lake--by the looks of it, could’ve been a good five hundred feet across--through the tunnel, and the glow was most-evident around the shoreline where the bacteria seemed to have accumulated. I took a sample, but it’s gone now. When I tried to go back for more, the tunnel had either naturally or been forced to collapse.” He put his hand in the water, watching with interest the river wash a swirling glow along with it. When he took his hand away, he picked another rock up and splashed it over its surface. “I want to see how brightly this water glows in the complete darkness in the forbidden quarter. It could lead the way if I managed to get over there…” He tossed the stone into the water, halfway out, watching its glow vanish. For whatever reason the stranger was listening to him, he took it. He wanted someone to listen.

Allan watched Carter as he explained about the lake, watching him create another glowing rock. He wasn't sure why he was still there, listening to something he normally didn't bother with as it never concerned him or his employers, but he had decided to simply accept the fact that he had been in a bar earlier; that had to be why.

Out of curiosity, Allan had reached into the water just as Carter stuck his hand in, lifting his hand so he could rub the glowing water between his fingers. Like on the stones, the glow lingered rather than fading instantly, the thin coating of water retaining the iridescent blue-green color. He was a little surprised; it didn't feel slimy or different than any other water he'd come across. From Carter's description, he had figured there'd be something different about it. "What makes you say that the tunnel could have been forced to collapse?" he asked, continuing to study his fingers, narrowing his eyes at it. The question was asked in a distracted manner, his eyes mirroring the glow. No… was it getting stronger?

"Tell you what," Allan said, and his voice instantly changed. It wasn't just curious or intrigued anymore; it was more focused, and darker. His eyes finally shifted to Carter, narrowing as he continued. "Since you're trying to figure out what this stuff is, and I'm curious as to the answer, I'll lead you to the forbidden quarter if you manage to explain what this stuff is. Since it's obviously not dark enough in here," he added, looking around, sincere irritation showing in his voice; "You can still see pretty well. Those damn lights are everywhere… what I wouldn't give for something resembling pitch-black."

Carter stared at the forbidden quarter longingly while Allan spoke. He heard the question of why he thought the small east tunnel had been forced to collapse, but never answered; he was thinking about it himself. Perhaps it was a natural collapse, but the suddenness had shocked him. He wondered why, after he had gone and come back, it would decide to give in to the forces of gravity. Most likely, someone had ordered the tunnel blocked after observing Carter leaving and returning. It was a bit far-fetched, but Carter could hardly consider it coincidence that the tunnel was destroyed so completely only after he decided to investigate it.

He glanced at Allan as he reached into the water, scooping a bit of the trailing glow and studying it. He didn’t seem like he was trying hard to understand what could be making it glow; Carter felt Allan was wondering why it felt like water instead of something more. Something strange, or alien, because of the alien glow. The color was certainly not supposed to be normal, or natural. But it was there, in the underground lake and in Allan’s eyes, on Carter’s skin as long as he had contact with water. But he had to wonder what other properties it had. He thought it could be what was making his hearing so damn sensitive…

He was shaken from his thoughts when Allan mentioned leading him to the forbidden quarter. He stood straight and rearranged his shirt. “You don’t have to lead me.” He said. “I’ve been around the river more than anywhere else, and I know the shallow parts, the narrow parts, and any ledges that could give a steady grasp.” When he looked back to the water, he continued: “I may be able to explain this ‘stuff’. If I can just find the sample of lake water I lost, I would be able to compare it to both the river and my own glow if I could contain it. Perhaps if I had a microscope… Slides…” He looked at Allan. “Forgive me if I’m jumping to conclusions, but you appear to be rather shadowy, and able to sneak easily along the outskirts of others‘ vision. If you could get me a microscope from the museum, one of the better models than what the academy has in its science labs, I could contain my office to a pitch black atmosphere and study the three samples.” He rubbed his hands together. “And since you mentioned you’d like some pitch black, it’s the perfect atmosphere to settle your eyes.” He nodded, perhaps to himself, confident in his plans. But he glanced at Allan, hoping he would assist.

Allan's eyes darted back to Carter when he stood abruptly, noticing the shift in his manner – and the lack of an answer to his question. He watched the professor coolly, listening to him listing what he would need in order to properly study this phenomenon with a calm mask. But the smile Allan shot at Carter at being referred to as "shady" could only possibly be described with one word: wolfish. The curl in his lip showed teeth, and there was a definite narrowing of his eyes as the grin spread in a heartbeat across his face.

He stood, slowly, considering Carter's words; he noticed how Carter had spoken of his eyes, of "settling" them rather than helping, thinking back to Carter's unexplainable stare at his eyes. Allan glanced at his hand again, the drying water finally starting to loose its glow. Was this contamination responsible for his eyes? Was that what was making them so damn sensitive? And… was that why Carter had found his eyes so fascinating now that he wasn't wearing his glasses? Allan resisted the urge to check his reflection, worried of what he'd see.

This worry didn't show in his voice, however; "A microscope?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow as he looked over again, adding after several long seconds, "Just that?" His second question was very different than what his first might have sounded like; not only was he willing to confirm Carter's suspicions, he was clearly proud of his talents. And he had already shown interest in finding out what the answer was to this strange little riddle, without wanting to do the hard work of solving it himself. He looked out to the river, once more trying to find the spot the stones had vanished into the water with their eerie glow. "How long would it take you to set up?" Allan looked back at Carter, the wolfish grin still prominent on his lips.

Carter glanced at Allan as he spoke, and saw the smile. It didn’t bother him; he had seen the toothy grin on many an alley-dweller in the city, scouting their next victim, but Carter doubted Allan was doing that. But to keep his mind focused on what he wanted to do rather than what he had to do, Carter turned his right side away from Allan’s sight, keeping his hand close to his pocket. The outline of his retractable dagger was a comfort, even if Allan showed to have more than just a blade concealed under that jacket.

“A microscope is all I need.” He said. “I’m certain the bacteria and the element are two different things, though perhaps made up of the same type of creature. If that were the case, the appearance or movement or behavior of one may be very different from the other, depending on origin or makeup, and so on. But the microscopes at the academy aren’t strong enough to give me the magnification I need. Only those at the museum can suffice.”

Carter knew he was answering the question of this man without him even asking directly. But he had the mentality of a teacher, a professor, and to find the answer to mysteries that confused others was what his mind was for. His mind was for absorbing information, distributing it among those who wanted an answer, and his body was made for handling pain and fatigue if the search for these answers became dangerous. Carter lived for the questions, the answers, the unknown future lying in the journey for the answers. Allan seemed concerned with the journey itself, not necessarily the answers. Carter reached up with his left hand, moving his glasses away from his eyes and onto the top of his head; he was nearly blind without them, but there wasn’t much to see. Allan’s form was still well outlined.

“If you can get me that microscope,” Carter added quietly, “I will find an answer for you. And once you’re content with that answer, you can leave and go on about your life. I don’t need your help to get to the forbidden quarter.” He added the last bit in full realization Allan probably only said he would help because he wanted to be around for the answer. He pulled a stoppered glass vial out of his pocket and held it out to Allan. “If you would collect the river water? I don’t want to run the risk of contaminating it.”

"You haven't considered asking the museum if you can use their microscopes?" Allan asked, watching the professor with a new look. He was very assertive in not wanting to be accompanied to the forbidden quarter, which he thought was amusing. This man didn't look like the kind that would have such confidence in himself, but he was so certain of what the results would be, and in typical scientist fashion he felt a need to prove it. Now to ask someone who had not only admitted to being a criminal, but willing to travel the forbidden quarter, for help?

Allan was interested in the answers; not being the scientific, academic type, however, kept him from being too interested in the method of discovery so much as the results. It was fairly amusing that he was so willing to help find the answers however; he normally wasn't the kind to be willing to work with anyone for anything.

"What's your name, professor?" he asked, taking the vial from Carter's hand, pulling out the stopper before kneeling again. He quickly washed his hand in the river before starting to gather the sample, dipping it in to keep it from becoming "contaminated" from him as well. The fast-paced water made filling the tube surprisingly hard, Allan having to pour splashes out two times before he could put the stopper in, standing as he shook the remaining water off, holding it back out at Carter.

Carter laughed at Allan’s assumption that he could simply walk into the museum’s science department and ask for one of their enhanced microscopes for ‘a few experiments’. There would be questions, borderline interrogation, and Carter would leave in a cloud of anger without anything to show for his work. Allan could get in and out faster, easier than Carter. He had never quite grown into his body; his feet were large and awkward, as much as his long limbs and thinness. He was always pegged as an easy target in more than one conceivable way, but it was painfully true that he couldn’t make himself inconspicuous enough to sneak anywhere.

Besides, with Allan’s jacket, he could hide the item well. Of course, if Allan didn’t want to prove himself a part of the shadows, able to blend in with the backdrop at his own will, Carter was of no inclination to beg. He could get in some other way, somehow.

Carter hesitated when Allan asked his name, in such a relaxed way it nearly caught him off guard. It wasn’t unique, his name, but the question was whether the stranger in front of him would return the favor. Still, Carter decided, watching Allan fill the vial and, it wouldn’t do any harm. They would probably go their separate ways soon enough. “I’m Carter Hall.” He said, taking the vial of water Allan held out. “Teacher for multiple age groups at New Angeles’ academy. And you?”

Carter's laugh was enough to answer Allan's question, the answer being what he suspected anyway; if the tunnel had "mysteriously collapsed," it was unlikely he'd be allowed to do anything beyond that. Besides, he looked like the kind of man that was easily looked over rather than taken seriously; Allan, on the other hand, was tall and lean but solid, and held an air of confidence that completed the image.

"Thought you were a professor," he noted with satisfaction as Carter took the vial, sliding his hands back into the pockets of his coat. For a moment, he didn't seem inclined to reply to Carter's question, but as he turned to face him, he finally replied with a casual, "Allan Forsyth." Perhaps not as common, but still nothing he expected Carter to recognize. Not unless the strange man was deeper into the darker side of the city than just the riverside. With an odd quirk of his lips that returned the wolf to his smile, he added, "Proverbial Jack-of-all-trades for hire."

He pulled one hand back out of a pocket, having fished out his sunglasses. Slipping them on, the glow in his eyes was hidden almost instantly, the lenses dark enough to block pretty much any light going in or out. Their design contoured around his face, increasing the darkness in which they rested. "Which floor is your office on?" he asked, suddenly sounding very business-like. "I should be able to get what you need in, say… two hours?" Whether or not this would have been what Carter expected, considering what time it was, Allan was thinking in truth that it'd take longer to find what he was looking for than the actual picking up of the microscope. After all, that one guard did owe him a favor…

Carter knew he appeared to be weak, someone who always second-guessed himself, who was not at all confident in what he looked like or what he did, or even how he communicated with others. Usually it seemed easy to target him; by the look Allan was giving him, Carter wondered if he were going to follow the path of many others and try to use his obvious strength to overpower him. If that were to be the case, Allan would certainly have a fight on his hands. But he wasn’t tense, wasn’t twitching or studying Carter too carefully to search for an opening. Though he took Allan’s assumption that he was a professor as a half-compliment, the sneer in his voice was all too evident. It had gone by the time he introduced himself by name.

He slightly recognized the name. Walking in the streets, he had heard some people speaking of an Allan Forsyth as they passed him by, going this way and that. A wanderer, by the best of descriptions, who never stayed in one place too long. But, he had to wonder, why had he decided to remain in New Angeles so long? By the appearance of his hand out of his pocket, the swift placement of dark glasses he had noted as sunglasses, Allan’s eyes didn’t like the light. He could have gone to a neighboring city, or perhaps a town, where the lights were a little dimmer. The lenses darkened the faint glow of Allan’s eyes, so Carter shook the questions away. Of all the things he understood, he would never fully grasp the concept of people.

“Two hours,” he repeated, hovering between surprise and distraction. He placed the vial of water in his left pocket. “Perfect. My office windows will be completely blacked out by then. Speaking of, it will be on the last floor, floor ten. There are two floors but when you get to the top, go all the way to the end of the hall and right. In that little alcove is my office. No one will question you on the way up.” He turned away from Allan, fighting off the faint headache that was still trying to poke its way into his conscious. His voice rumbled in his ears, worse than Allan’s did. He breathed out slowly. “I’ll be waiting at the academy, then, Allan.” He said in finality.

Allan nodded as he mentally recorded the instructions, but he seemed to pause at being called "Allan." He didn't say anything about it, however, letting it slide; more than anything, he just looked a little surprised, not used to being called by his first name. "See you then, Professor," he replied, turning away in kind to Carter's move, his more-yet-less formal reference thrown over his shoulder in a manner that clearly indicated he was keeping his distance.

He walked off, back towards the city, eyes narrowing as he saw the light in the distance starting to fill his world. Cursing softly under his breath, he walked on, grateful of the respite for his eyes, however short it had been. But there was the promise of more in two hours, which he had to admit was almost as alluring as finding out what the strange glow was. Now to find his skittish contact…

---

Two and a half hours later, Allan was finally able to knock on the professor's door, shaking his hand slightly after it hit the wooden surface. There was a split across his knuckles, the blood dried into a thin crust now. His eyes were hurting; he'd been silently cursing the school's overly bright lights the entire time he'd been inside, especially near where some students were goofing off with brightly colored, flashing lights that shot through his glasses like a knife. He knew he was late; he was still furious at his useless contact, since the man had not only been demoted from night guard to janitor, meaning Allan was forced to steal the key anyway, but the rat had tried to bolt at seeing Allan. It was a fist landing an inch from his head that had finally convinced the man to fulfill his payment, but the surface Allan had punched was metal, and his hand was still stinging from the hit.

He didn't know how many times he had been told he was too quick to physical action, but his attempts to convince the man with words had failed. True, he only tried twice before slamming him into the wall, but he had tried. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the bright hallway with narrowed eyes invisible under his glasses, dressed the same as he had been when he first met Carter, only now his left hand held the handle of what looked like a very thick black briefcase, and his coat had gotten unbuttoned sometime during his argument with the man. It hung in a way that continued to hide his sides, but it revealed the straps that held his weapons in place, admitting at last that they were there. Impatiently, Allan knocked again, hissing at his hand, even though he had hardly given the first knock a minute before trying again.

Carter could only smile at Allan's parting words. He had already made it known he was less than a professor, but he felt Allan needed to call others by their profession, or their last name. Perhaps, he thought, starting back toward the city the way he had come to the river, Allan believed using someone else's first name made him too comfortable being around them. He knew Allan was a traveler, never quite belonging anywhere, and keeping his distance was only natural for one like him.

Carter didn't have that problem. A name was merely a name to him, a title, a tag to tell one face from another a little easier. Being around someone or something too long bred familiarity, a sense of knowing the person or thing. Carter himself knew the city, the streets and buildings, the faces he passed by on a daily basis. He had grown up in the city, thus he knew it and was familiar with it. Sometimes he didn't even remember its name...

***

Carter stood among a mess, books stacked in alphabetical towers, pushed up against their bookcases and on top of the rectanglular table between shelves, papers in uneasy piles, clothes thrown over his couch when the knock sounded. He figured it had to be soft, but the sound made him recoil with a grimace, swinging into a whirl of movement; he threw the clothes back into their wardrobe, scooped up the papers and put them in his desk, set a tinted cover over the lantern he had burning. Beside it was the vial of river water and the lake water he had relocated in one of the desk drawers, along with a half-full pitcher of water he had yet to touch. The books were everywhere, but he grabbed them up and pushed them back onto the shelves the best he could and where he remembered them to be. His heart was racing from tearing up the office, beating like a bass drum inside him. Not only was he obsessive about his materials, he realized, but he was rather quick to anger. Halfway through the frantic search, he had wanted to burn every book in his office.

He cursed when the second series of knocks burst into his conscious. Locking the wardrobe, waving off the rest of the books littering the throw rug, he strode to the door and shut off the hard overhead light. Before Allan could knock again, he swung the door open and waved him inside. With a mixture of relief and worry he regarded the case in his hand. "C'mon," he said quickly, "get in and set it on the table."

Allan hardly waited for Carter to invite him in before pushing forward, his eyes desperate for the welcoming darkness they spotted in the office. The case in his hand meant nothing; his reason for his bolt inside was evident as his free hand went up to his eyes again, the grimace short but visible. Even with the lamp burning, it was still better than what had felt like pulsating, interrogating lights that wanted to pick his eyes apart. Once he was inside the room, he relaxed a little, slowly making his way to the table, taking his time to eye the room, his expression more than just a little perplexed at what he saw.

He said nothing, however, but lifted the case onto the open space on the table that was offered, undoing the two locks on it. Lifting the lid, he grabbed what he had thought looked like a rather ornate, complicated microscope, but he knew it was one of the newest the museum had gotten; his contact had proved it to him by showing him not only the newly shipped box, but the order form itself. Allan set it upright on the table, but didn't pull away immediately; he withdrew two more boxes from the case before closing it and setting it on the floor, unlocking and opening both of the little boxes before he moved away, locating a chair that he had to clear a few papers and books off of. Uncertainly, he picked them up and just set them next to it, settling himself in to watch Carter, looking at him for the first time since he arrived.

"So, newest microscope I could find, slides, and a surprise," he said, one leg crossing over the other knee in a manner that suggested he felt he'd done his part of the deal. The surprise hadn't really been his initial goal, but the bad mood he was in was tempered by the thought of just how much trouble his former contact would be in once they realized it was missing. Besides, he was curious too about the long white petal that was glowing with that iridescent blue-green brighter than anything he'd seen so far. Oh, wouldn't the scientists studying it just flip at realizing that their find was missing a petal? His smile deepened at the thought; ah Bernie, poor Bernie… being the only janitor that night, with the crazy story of a man, whose name he didn't even know, one he owed for less than legal activities, coming in and convincing him to let him take it. Not much of a backup. With the way his hand was stinging, it sounded like sweet, sweet justice.

Carter had moved aside by the time Allan brushed past him, covering his eyes for a moment. Yes, Carter thought, his eyes were very aware of light, and probably hated their owner for the prolonged time spent underneath them. Carter locked the door behind Allan, checking the blackout blinds over the windows. They were secure. As Allan disengaged the snaps, each resulting snap, click, click reminded him of a child's balloon popping. Rather shocking, to say the least. He observed Allan from afar, still not completely used to someone else in the space he had called his own. He felt as though he were going against his basic principles; to never fully trust, to never turn his back on a riddle, and to never let anyone stray too far into his refuge.

When Allan backed away, Carter could fully inspect the item and its two small boxes. One he knew held the slides, snug in their little velvet-lined case, but the other, referred to as a 'surprise', made him wary. Was that surprise why Allan had taken longer than he originally said? Was it something to be regarded as good or bad? When Carter stepped to the table, he closed it--it seemed empty upon first glance anyway--and slid it to the side. He would inspect it later. But the newest model of microscope was that which he had only seen in windows: Brass and glass, black rubber skids on the bottom and around the eyepiece, four different magnification settings, and a completely clear stage. A white light was underneath, not harsh or bright but easily distributed only about the stage.

He nodded at the sight, the thirty slides and the detailed microscope, the unknown surprise that was covered and awaiting an insection. He went to his desk, gathered the two vials and pitcher in one hand and the lamp in the other, setting them in line beside the microscope. The lamp was nearest the microscope on the left, more or less hidden from Allan's direct sight. "Keep your eyes averted." He said, touching the knob that commanded the microscope's light strength. "I'm taking the cover off the lamp." He did even as he spoke, revealing the small flame so he could see a bit better. From his shirt pocket he produced a clear case containing several eye-droppers.

Allan watched Carter look over the microscope, getting the funny feeling of watching a kid in a candy shop. Carter might have shown signs of being uncomfortable with a stranger in his territory like this, but Allan wouldn't have picked up on them even if he was specifically looking for them. He'd never been that territorial, and it showed in his wanderings; he was used to being in places he had never seen before, situations he'd never been in before, so he was quickly able to settle himself down in the room, although he did keep an eye on the stacks of books that looked like they might fall over on top of him.

He only had a few seconds to look back at Carter before the cover came off, inadvertently hissing for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut, one hand rising to block what little light from the lamp was getting to him around the microscope. Allan cursed at the lamp under his breath, having to squint his eyes in order to see what Carter was doing now. "How long is this going to take?" he asked, referring more to the light than anything else. He noticed the box with the petal had been put to the side, which almost made him laugh; this Carter was so focused on the water samples, he hadn't looked in the box.

Carter shook the vial of river water, halfway ignoring Allan's question. He used the dropper to extract some of the water, dropping some onto the center of the slide and placing it under the clips. "It will take," he started, focusing the lens, "as long as it needs to take." Though it felt odd turning his back on someone he still couldn't fully trust, he cleared his mind to focus on what the slide showed him. Mostly clear, a few bacteria that squirmed quickly and erratically, and others that were slow or motionless. They all resembled photos and illustrations of creatures already discovered, deemed natural. But some were odd. Their cell walls were lumpy, and shone with a crystalline quality that was certainly unnatural. They were almost silver, shaped somewhat like corrupted diamonds with rounded points.

Carter was surprised, though not terribly. He sorted through the magnification settings until one came up showing the inside of the cell, such as an X-Ray would show the bone in one’s broken arm or leg. Though the image was clearer, as though he had peeled back the cell wall and membrane. It had the nucleus of an animal cell, located like a brain near the top--or bottom--of the cell, but the chloroplast located just above the nucleus was strange; it gave the cell a greenish tint. The rough endoplasmic reticulum was at its left, and the smooth at its right, obviously performing their jobs. All seemed mostly well within the cell, save for the combination of plant and animal features, and a membrane running through the cytoplasm and around the cell wall.

Curious, Carter set that slide on the table and took up the vial of lake water. Its glow was faint, which he found odd since he couldn’t understand how the organisms survived so long in the vial, lost for over a year in his black hole of an office. Taking a second eye dropper from the case, he followed the same course of action as before: Grab a few drops, set them on the slide, clip it to the stage, and move the lens to its second-strongest. He observed the same strange cells floating, in a greater abundance, among the squirming organisms. He shut off the light under the stage and cupped his hand over the lamp’s flame, watching the diamond-shaped cells float and pulse with a bluish light that only illuminated the green to show.

Slipping the slide back out, he jammed his hand into the pitcher of water. A few swirls was all it took for the entire pitcher to glow, a little brighter than Allan’s eyes, which were watching. Disregarding his third dropper, he scooped some of the water onto a third slide and examined it. Most of the water was made up of the new cells, mixed a bit with skin cells and the illuminated bacteria from the lake. He heard himself say something, but didn’t catch what it was. The cells, he knew, were never going to be found in any of the books he had, even the ones his grandfather had given him.

Allan groaned softly, sliding his sunglasses off as he shut his eyes, his hand coming up to cover them completely. "How did I know you were going to say that?" he asked himself, although his irritated tone was half directed at Carter. Even so, he didn't argue the point; he was actually respectful, patiently remaining quiet until Carter had some answer for him. Besides, just closing his eyes was helping; he could still see the blue-green spots of light dancing in his eyes from the lights earlier, and were only starting to fade now.

At hearing the second slide click back out of place, Allan peered at Carter through slitted fingers, watching as the water pitcher suddenly became a night light. Somehow, it was more impressive than the glowing rocks, even though it was basically the same thing. A juvenile thought hit him, but he restrained from mentioning it, although the thought made him smile, albeit in a distracted manner; since the water when it was glowing didn't feel any different, would it taste any different?

"Anything interesting?" he asked, noticing the slides that were already sitting to the side. In the dim light, again the glow in his own eyes seemed strong, albeit less so with the lamp's golden glow softly illuminating the desk. It almost heightened his look of curiosity as he tried to study the slides next to Carter, narrowed as they were against what light there was.

Allan’s voice barged into his head almost as though he had physically ran into him. Carter nearly dropped the last slide he had just picked up, but steadied himself. He had all but forgotten Allan was there; the cell structures, appearances, and overall presence of them had chased almost every thought from his mind. “Er, yes.” He said at last. “Something isn’t right here. This makeup is so different, its completely confusing me.” He pulled a book from the stack behind the microscope. By the light of the small flame and glowing water in the pitcher, he flipped through the illustrations, the faded color photographs. He found nothing, as he thought he would, that even resembled the form and structure of what he saw. “It looks like a plant cell and an animal cell were crossed, then altered some way. I think the outer cell wall may be enhancing the glow from the extra membrane running through it, though.”

He threw the book back onto the table and looked at the box he had yet to look inside. Curiosity was killing him, and against his better judgment, he grabbed it and flipped the top back. A loose flap of velvet was over it, and he was cautious when he lifted it. A thin white oval thing, glowing slightly with a very familiar light. It made a bowl shape, one that would seem to catch water, and where it had been separated from the others. Inside the bowl were several stalks, thin like a cat’s fur, and around its edges were very slightly fringed out in a resemblance to a two-dimensional flame. Its feel was delicate, silken. A flower petal like that he had never seen before. Only the dark red or black or green of the genetically-altered plantlife around the city. Worried it would rip or simply disintegrate under his touch, Carter returned it to its box.

“An unexpected surprise it is,” Carter said at last. “It’s got to be something made by a hand other than human. Something guided by natural light, by moving air, by soil and water.” He looked at Allan, sitting in the dark area of the room. “It’s got to be something from the surface world.” He added.

Allan half smirked at Carter's unsteady reaction, amused that he had been forgotten in such a short amount of time. He squinted with confusion at the reply, however, leaning forward to see what he could make out of the pages in the book he was going through. "Plant and animal?" he echoed, sounding just about as confused as Carter.

Carter opened the box with the petal resting inside, pulling it up with a sense of total reverence. "Yeah, pretty nice bonus to get," he noted, his tone indicating that he meant it was a nice bonus for himself. His hand was still stinging, and his voice echoed his feelings towards the man that had "caused" it to split. But Allan had slipped the petal into the box with barely any concern for it, careful only because he knew that it was the only flower of its kind that was known, and damaging it didn't seem like the right sort of thing to do anyway.

At Carter's last few words, however, Allan paused, leaning back with a curious, "The surface?" He looked away, adding with a tone that was even more confused, "Why would anyone want to go up to the surface?" He was dead serious about his question; this man had clearly never entertained thoughts of leaving the twilight world, never mind leaving his extensive and safe shadows.

“Plant and animal, plant and animal.” Carter muttered, turning and leaning against the table. “I don’t know how it could happen. It’s not possible. But it’s been too long since anyone’s seen what happened up there.” He looked at his hands, hands he knew were coated in the cells, the element that made water glow blue. Allan’s tone had indicated he didn’t understand any more than Carter did. He probably didn’t care.

Carter appreciated the extra time spent to get the flower petal. But his suspicion was raised. It took very little time for Allan to find it, and he only passively regarded it. Carter thought about saying something, but decided against it. Allan was not one to fight with, suspicion or not; he didn't want to fight anyway.

But Allan seemed absolutely astounded Carter even dared to mention the surface. As though the teacher had lost his mind at the drop of a hat. Carter didn’t blame him for the surprise. “Allan,” he said, “I don’t expect you to understand a mind like mine. You may see me as an ordinary man, who thinks merely like all the other professors or teachers you’ve ever met, but you don’t know my way of thinking. I do want to go to the surface. I want to see how big the world is. I want to be in the sun and the moon and feel the wind and see what it is. I want to see how it differs now from the stories my great-grandfather told me when I was young. I think the forbidden quarter is forbidden because it holds the entrance to the surface, an escape. The stories of ‘monsters’ in the river is just to dissuade inquiring minds.” He paused for breath. “Besides… This underworld tunnel system doesn’t go on forever. Eventually you’ll just be wandering in circles, around the same damn places, seeing the same damn faces.” He looked at the microscope, the two boxes, the slides and the vials and the glowing water. He stared at them hard.

Allan eyed Carter carefully, letting him finish his rant about why he wanted to go to the surface. His eyes managed to focus squarely on the teacher, narrowed against the light but defiant enough to allow him to stare back. "I understand," he said, his voice unexpectedly even and calm considering the look in his eyes. "I understand how people can want to go up there, to see the world that no one's seen for generations. You want to see what's new, what's the same, what you can recognize from an old story or a science book."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Look, I've just… I've lost many partners to the surface, and I've heard too many stories about people vanishing after trying to find it, so it just surprises me that people still look for it." Allan decided to keep quiet about Carter's reference to seeing the 'same damn faces,' mentally adding to his words the question of what so many of his jobs had been. With as much competition as he had, he was normally surprised to recognize anyone after a few days, even if he was in the same town. Well, never mind that; if he had soothed the teacher's ruffled feathers by backing off, just enough to get his answer, then that worked for him.

The look Allan was giving him told a different story than his words. It was a contradiction Carter didn’t want to face, so he turned to stare at the tallest pile of books in the room. Allan was like all the others; afraid of change though he refused to acknowledge it. Afraid of what the surface might hold now, afraid of seeing some new land completely untouched for generations. He didn’t want to say anything about it; Allan was right. Carter wanted to see how the world changed, what animals were there, the plantlife and oceans. But he wanted to bring the people back to the surface. Life was lived in a cage of stone and darkness, and Carter was tired of it. He felt trapped by the walls, the rules that forbid movement to the darkness or to certain tunnels.

It was Allan’s last comment that made him raise a brow. Without turning, he said, “you don’t seem like the kind of person to have a partner. You seem like the kind to work alone, and if anyone gets in your way, destruction be to them. Still, Allan, people are curious. It’s human nature. They want to know about what is forbidden to them, or what they can’t see.” He rubbed his head between flat hands. “Most aren’t strong or brave enough to venture into the unknown, to what dangers or horrors might await them. I really don’t care what’s up there anymore; I just want to see it.”

He nodded slowly, as though confirming what he said as true. He had been several times to other cities, but they resembled New Angeles so much, the people the same as those he saw on a daily basis. They were all the same, the people and places, just in a different location. Nothing ever changed, no matter how hard he tried to look. Maybe Allan didn’t see that. Maybe he didn’t want to. Still, Carter thought, turning back to face the other man, one thing was bothering him. “Your eyes are glowing blue-green.” He said. It was a curt comment; he meant it to be.

Allan looked back at Carter as he started to speak, almost amused at his remark about his not being likely to have a partner. As for the other part… well, his hand was proof enough of that. But Carter's longing for the surface was bringing back too many memories of the partners he did lose, and it was more their vanishing than anything else that had finally convinced him to go on alone, feeling as if he would betray a still-living partner if he teamed up with another. He didn't believe in the monsters that were always rumored about, and he didn't really care about them. What interested him was just getting through each day, and hiding in his comfortable shadows. Was it fear? Allan wouldn't know; with his past, he never was really able to understand the concept.

Looking away again, Allan let out as soft a sigh as he could manage; he supposed that, at this point, their business was concluded. He had gotten all the answers he had wanted; it was all linked, and possibly from the surface. Whatever else may be, Allan didn't really care. He wasn't even sure why he had gotten involved in the first place. He pushed himself up and out of the chair, words of farewell on his lips, as Carter almost accusingly informed him of his eyes.

Allan froze mid-step, staring at Carter with widened eyes. "Excuse me?" he asked, his tone just as accusing as the teacher's had been, the look of incredulously obvious in his expression. What was with this game? Maybe the flower glowed, maybe the water glowed… hell, even the man's hand glowed, but why would Carter try to keep Allan there with such a bold-faced lie?

Carter had been prepared for Allan’s reaction, but not the harshness of what he said. The words were especially loud, and through the shudder, he heard the accusation, the disbelief. Allan was glaring at him, halfway to the door, glaring with those glowing eyes. It was nearly impossible not to be drawn to the eyes as soon as one looked at him; their presence was immediate in the dimness. He went to one of the bookshelves, squinting in the dark between bindings and covers. “I don’t lie,” Carter said as he searched. “I’m no liar.” Grabbing something rectangular, he strode across the room and thrust a mirror into Allan’s hands. Then he turned again, going back to the microscope and the items scattered about.

“I’ve been contemplating the glow, ever since we met.” He said, picking one of the slides up. “It’s the same tone the water from the lake is, it’s the same color as the water when I touch it. I have reason to believe that whatever’s in these slides, this compound made up of crossed cells, is in your eyes, or more. It’s probably what makes your eyes not only glow, but so sensitive to the light. And if that’s the case, it’s clear that these cells are altering my sense of hearing to nearly-unbearable heights. This has to be because the cells aren’t only clustered around a particular area on or in the body, but everywhere. They’re in the river water, but only a bit; in the sample I only found one or two, so in comparison to the entire river, there can’t be that many… Yet. The lake was nearly overpopulated with the cells, though, as there were more of the alien ones than the organisms.

Carter turned back to Allan, but was blinded by mental images of the creatures he had found. “These cells, this compound, must have been transplanted by creatures not of this earth, by the ones that forced mankind underground while they ravaged the land above. It must have made the surface plants very resilient to allow one to make its way down here, then bloom. But it must have gotten into the ground, washed closer and closer and finally making its way into the underground sources of water, the river and the lake, and possibly farther than that. Either the element built up in our system, or we’ve been affected by its properties.” He looked at Allan.

Allan's eyes followed Carter as he moved, up until the mirror was shoved into his hands. For several seconds, Allan didn't look at it, instead watching Carter move about, not wanting to look in the mirror now to confirm what he had said. But his eyes were drawn down, widening at what they saw.

For once, he was completely speechless; he heard Carter's words like a discordant backdrop of noise, only just picking up on what he said. Crossed cells… caused the sensitivity to light? The hand holding the mirror was starting to shake, his entire body tensing up at what he was looking at. The more he stared, the more his eyes seemed to glow, the iridescent color glittering almost mockingly from the reflection in the mirror. Slowly, he set the mirror on the bookshelf behind him, turning his back to Carter as he did. His voice sounded shaken as he spoke, almost unwilling to accept what he had just seen.

"I need a drink," he said, sliding the glasses out of his pocket to put on again. He paused as he brought them up, seeing the faint reflection of the glow against the inside of the glasses. Allan held his breath and pushed the glasses into place, walking towards the door once again. The reason why he suddenly felt a need to find a bright, noisy place to sit was quite easy to understand.

Carter could see Allan was beyond surprised. No words were shot back in reply, only shaking hands that held the mirror. Carter could have felt sorry for him, if he were the only one affected. But Allan’s eyes and their glow could be hidden by dark glasses, by a bit too much light. If Carter were so much as under a leaking bit of the cavern roof, he would glow as brightly as a nightlight, as brightly as the water in the pitcher did. Most of the time it was hidden, easily, but he had to wonder what others would think if they saw Carter glow, or noticed Allan’s eyes in the dark. Would they be afraid? Or curious? Other scientists might try to study them, to find out what the two already knew. None of it could happen.

He almost didn’t understand Allan’s final words until he saw the man start to the door again. Carter flew across the room, slamming into the door. “No!” He hissed. “The light will only blind you, and your head must remain clear. This contamination must have entered our bodies through the river water, and its reaction with us isn’t normal. We can’t let anyone else know about the element, the enhanced senses, and especially not about the glow in any form! If it’s still working on our bodies, we can’t be around people. The effects may, at later stages, be very noticeable by other people, and if they catch on, there will be panic.”