ill Winds...

Soon we were off. With my eyes blindfolded, I couldn't sense any sort of speed that the vehicle was going. Neither could I sense anything from the engine tone, because the car is eeriely quite. All I can hear is the faint sighs of the winds as they flow past the contours of the vehicle. I must be in a Roller or something, since it is so quiet in here, like being in the end of a large hall by yourself. Then there is the familiar smells of fine connolley leather, like that of my Bentley. Blindly, I felt around to have an idea of where am I. I felt the seat of the car, and sure enough my hands are greeted by the soft and sensual sensations of top grade leather.

'Top grade Connolley leather, Herr Holland. The best made in England, naturally...' Manfred suddenly said, as though reading my mind...'Please be patient and forgive us for such inconvenience Sir, for it will be over rather soon. For now, might I suggest that you just lie back and relax?'

Soon, we got off the motorway onto what seems like a rough country roads. I can't see it, but I can feel the slight motions and the muffled rumblings of gravel hitting the chassis of the car. Damn, my fat ass must be too pampered by my Bentley to feel such nuances....Then, the car suddenly stopped. All noises died down and all of a sudden, a pair of hands reached around my shoulders and helped me out of the car. So, we have arrived at Dr Wilson's fabled top secret labs...

Then all of a sudden my blindfolds were removed and the sight of a grey building greets me. It looks like any industrial shed in the country side, dull. It has what appears to be grey walls and huge doors at the front that makes the building look like an aircraft hanger. I turned to look at my transport. To my surprise, it was a Maybach limousine without any numbr plates....well, looks can sometimes be deceiving, but so can feel....

'Herr Holland, will you be kind enough to follow me? Dr Wilson is waiting inside.' With that, Manfred leads me and Jason to the side entrance of the building. I looked around the environment. It seems that the building is in the middle of a field clearing in the middle of the forests. Except for the rings of lights and the presence of security posts around the building, there appears to be no sight of any city lights in the area. I looked at my watch, its now 2 in the morn, so the ride took 2 hours....

As the door opens, I am greeted by the sight of a scene not out of place in a sci fi movie. There is a huge corridor from the main door that leads to rooms that are not only behind thick glass screens, but have double layered doors specifically used for decontamination that is the standards in laboartories engaging in biological research. All the workers in the rooms are donned in full biological suits that make them appear less human and more like those strange creatures in Alien (that one was a real classic).


Then from the end of the long corridor, a tall and slender figure in white lab coat and rimless glasses walked towards us. Though I've seen the face often enough on telly, this is the first time I've seen the fella in person. The first thing that strikes me is how pale the man is, he looks ashen. He's about 6 foot 2" and have rather fine features, with thin lips and a sharp well defined nose. A handsome fella whose face betrays nothing of his actual age (he is said to be 40 even though that has never been confirmed). His eyes are his most noticeable feature. They are emerald green like mine, with a piercing stare that seems to just look through you and read your mind. Most mesmerising I must say. Dr Wilson's name and reputation precedes him. A relatively new player in the London social scene, he gained prominance quite quickly with the sort of parties and dinners that he hosts. Those quickly became the talk of the town, from the quality of the service to the exquisite tastes of the man. These parties allowed him to build important connections with the London high society, including with the King himself. This allowed him to obtain the fundings he needed to proceed with the human regeneration research. He's rumoured to be involved with many ladies of the London high society, though his guilt is never confirmed. Many, including the King himself, swears by his character and his medical skills, which the King describes as 'a fine example of a human being'.

'Arh...Mr Holland!' Dr Wilson boomed with a surprisingly deep voice. ' No pardon me, Sir Holland, Knight of the British Empire, its my pleasure and honour to have you here with me tonight. Come, lets have a look at the wonderful work that we are doing here...'

Midnight Rendezvous

The many days that I've worked, just waiting for the day to come where I visit Wilson's labs. Though doubtful of the purpose, nevertheless I am rather interested in how the man manages what he does. Finally, it was the day, or rather the night. Doctor Wilson had requested that we meet him at his labs in the dead of the night as part of some 'operational requirements' set by the MOD. As there were no other alternatives, I readily agreed to this rather queer timing.

I look over to Jason. The young lad was visibly excited throughout the day. He must have checked and rechecked his equipment at least half a dozen times in the past hour as we wait for the hour to arrive. As a way of compensation for the inconvenience of the timing, Doctor Wilson has graciously offered us his personal transport to the labs and back to our homes.

" It is time. Pack your equipment boy, we got an interview to do."

With that, we walked out of the office, coats in one hand and our briefcases on the other. Neither of us spoke as we took the lift down to the lobby. Even though there was silence, the excitement is palatable. As we walked out of the lobby, I look up into the night sky. The sky is clear, and the air was cool and crisp. There are no clouds, but there are no stars in sight either. Only the moon was on its lonely vigil, full and bright. We got into my Bentley and we drove a short distance to Nelson's Column, where Doctor Wilson's driver will meet us at the stroke of midnight. I dismissed my driver after we reached Trafalgar Square, and we stood there shivering in the cold night as we waited for the fella to arrive.

I looked at my watch, 5 minutes to midnight. I look up on the column, seeing Nelson standing triumphedly atop the column, a monument of greatness that once graced our empire. Now Britain is barely a shadow of her former self, the empire no more, relegated to a second tier status as China and India have risen to become major powers with their tremendous economic and military strength. The 21st century belongs to the ancient empires of India and China, risen from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. How the mighty hath fallen...

'Mister Holland, I suppose?'

I turned around with a startle. Standing in front of a me is a middle aged man wearing a neatly pressed suit. He stood not very tall but proud. He stands about 5 feet 3" (I'm 6 Feet 2"), has a longish thin face that seems to have an odd greyish pallor to it. His lips are thin and reddish; concealing brilliant white teeth that seems surprising free of fillings for a man of his age (he appears to be in his early 50s judging from the wrinkles and everything). He spoke with a voice thats low yet strong, smooth yet not exactly silky. The left breast pocket of his suit was embossed with a strange figure in red. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a figure of a 9 legged Dragon pierced with a spear through its guts.

' My apologies, Herr Holland, my name is Manfred. I work for Herr Doktor Wilson, being both his personal assistant and his butler. I'll be conveying you and your friend to Doctor Wilson's laboratories. However, I must apologise and seek your kind understanding for certain issues.... For the trip, I'm afraid you and your friend will have to be blindfolded...'

"What? Blindfold, what for?" I asked indignantly.

' Again I must apologise Sir for this seemingly unreasonable request. You see, the Human Regeneration Project is funded by His Majesty's Government as a military project. As a result, strict security measures are required by the MOD for funding to continue. Though the MOD has kindly allowed the both of you to visit the laboratories, the conditions are that no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to reveal the location of the laboratories. For the interests of security.' Manfred said with a smile.

Suddenly, my world plunged into darkness as an invisible pair of hands from behind put what feels like fine silk handkerchief over my eyes and tied the ends tight. Before I can even let out as much as a sound, the deed was done. After what seemed like an infinity (in reality just mere seconds), I hear the sound of a vehicle approach. We are hustled into the vehicle and soon we were underway...

Beginnings...

' The Commission is pleased to announce the winner of this year's biology prize goes to Doctor Jacob V. Wilson of the United Kingdom for his breakthrough work in the field of human body regeneration....' Sitting at my desk, I stare at the telly as the winners for this year's Nobel Prize is announced. It seems just like yesterday that man started out on the first steps towards immortality with the cloning of animals when in fact its been 30 years already. Now, we have finally crossed the most difficult hurdle of all, that of life and death. With the breakthrough in human regeneration, now life can be extended indefinitely. Ageing is a process that's built within our DNA. As we grow old, the DNA degenerates and our body goes along with it. With the regeneration process pioneered by Doctor Wilson, the degenerated parts of our bodies like the organs are simply replaced by grown ones inside his many secret laboratories supposedly scattered along the countryside. The second part of the treatment encompasses the injection of a material known as Solution V into our bodies (the methods of injection are unknown even to the press at this point as all test subjects are sworn to secrecy by the government who bankrolled this project) that fixes the ageing gene in our DNA which stops the ageing process entirely. With the treatment complete, essentially the person will be able to live forever...

'Sir, can I talk to you for a minute?' It was Jason, one of the young lads who just joined the team. Fresh out of college, with boundless energy and enthusiasm, a fine looking young man with a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, perfect for our line of work. 'Its Doctor Wilson, Sir. His press secretary called just now. He doesn't seem to quite agree with our opinions on his work, Sir. Seems like he's been reading our papers and found your editorials quite objectionable regarding the ethics of regeneration. And he requests a meeting with you...' Hmm....the ethics of regeneration, now I remember about that editorial I wrote a few days back in The Times. I never believed that God created us to live forever, that we die for a reason. To live forever will be sin and unnatural, pretty much what that man is doing right now, creating an army of undead that is pretty much an army of the Devil himself...That I really feel uncomfortable with. Sure with his work people will never have to feel the pain of death and separation again but is it really wise? Live forever, that just sounds too good to be true...God save our King and our Kingdom, I'll be damned if our great country becomes a land of the undead.

' Alright Jason, I'll see him. Find Amy and look for a time slot, then tell Wilson's secretary that I'll meet him when I'm available and....'

'No Sir, it gets better than that Mr H. He's inviting you to his laboratories. No press has ever been invited to his laboratories before, it'll be a real scoop.... Pity he requests that you go alone....'

Me alone? Now what does that scumbag has in his twisted little mind, meddling with God's creation with his filthy hands, want with me now? Does he want to get even with me after I wrote that scathing editorial last week? 'No, tell that Dr Wilson that I'll meet him on two conditions; that I am comfortable with the schedule and that you'll follow me to the laboratories. I'll accept no pictures if he insist but tell him it wouldn't help if he insists so. No compromises on my two conditions, clear?'

'Yes Sir, I'll go find a time with Amy. Damn, It'll be the scoop of the century, a look inside the mysterious Doctor Wilson's top secret labs...'

'It sure is, son' I muttered not quite audibly
'It sure is'

'Now get back to work son, we got things to do'