November 2nd Prompt
The sounds of bodies shuffling through the corridors of the base were familiar to Phillip, he'd even taken a certain sort of comfort in them. The research station was constantly active, day and night, and there was never a time when there weren't at least a handful of people moving from one lab to another to at least exchange ideas on how to tackle problems. For a secret facility it was surprisingly open and social, though he supposed that was largely because everyone here had the same level of clearance and they were only rarely allowed time off base. But the constant shuffle was something that soothed him, it assured him that he was not alone in his toils in this secretive location.
Today was another one of those normal days on the base, a shipment of anomalous materials had arrived and Phillip had been one of the men assigned to trying to discern what they were and what properties they had. The day was spent in one of the many labs with a small square of reflective silver metal, a deep gash running across its surface from one corner to another. Despite the cut in its surface the piece was still unimaginably strong. All attempts to even bend it were seemingly fruitless, two hydraulic press cylinders already cracked as a result of the intense stress tests. To further the confusion, spectroscopic analysis of the piece returned nonsensical readings which widely varied across its entire surface. He was left at a loss and as the hours of the day dragged on he found his hunger for answers, as well as the hunger of his stomach, gradually growing.
As he was attempting a heating test of the material, once again with no apparent changes, the door to his lab opened to the familiar face of one of his friends. Nevil, a talented particle physicist, with a curious expression on his face as he looked around and noted the cracked hydraulic cylinders. "Busy at work today, eh Phil?"
Phillip nodded in response, flicking off the heat gun in his hand and turning to Nevil, "Yeah, this thing has been mystifying me all day. Can't seem to bend it, compress it, cut it, file it, spectroscopy is a bust and it doesn't look like heating is even having an effect on it. The molecular lattice of it is even dizzying and all microscopic analysis did was confuse me even more."
Nevil gave a long deep sigh and nodded in return, placing his gloved hands in the pockets of his lab coat. "Sounds maddening. How long have you been working on it?"
Phillip searched his thoughts briefly for an answer before realizing he'd totally lost track of time and had to check the clock. There were no windows in the research base so there was no sun, moon or stars to keep track of. He had started at 5 in the morning, it was now after 5 in the evening. He found himself a little shocked when he saw the time, laughing as he responded, "12 hours, I guess."
Nevil laughed with him, "And let me guess, no breaks?" When Phil nodded back to him he pulled a hand out of his pocket and motioned, "Why don't you go take a break and get something to eat, I'll work on this and see if I can puzzle some things out. You can take credit for any discoveries if the brass wants to get pissy about assignment."
Phil nodded again, "Thank you, pal. I'll be back in an hour. Try not to hurt yourself." He grinned as he said the last few words, Nevil waving him away as he walked over to the reflective metallic square and inspected it.
The labyrinthine sterile white hallways of the research base lead Phillip on a winding path to the cafeteria, he often wondered to himself if they made the place confusing on purpose in some attempt to mitigate intelligence. More likely, in his mind at least, was that it just hadn't been built all at once and was haphazardly made in piecemeal and the labyrinthine layout was an artifact of that process. He passed several other researchers on the way to the cafeteria, discussing research projects and puzzling out solutions to each other's problems. The camaraderie here was something that also comforted Phillip, it gave him a greater sense of purpose. That what he was doing mattered, even if it would never be recognized by the public.
When he arrived at the cafeteria it was a bit unusually vacant, only a handful of other people quietly eating meals at separate tables. He supposed, both from the vacant cafeteria and the conversations he overheard as he passed, that he wasn't the only one who had been issued anomalous materials and was working long hours to puzzle out their attributes. The cooks were all absent at the moment, likely on break or messing around elsewhere, but there were several large sandwiches laid out. This was something he knew the chefs to often do in order to placate complaints they weren't there to serve the researchers while they were on break, so without question he grabbed one of the sandwiches and found another empty table in the cafeteria. He relaxed as he ravenously devoured the sandwich, not even realizing himself just quite how hungry he had gotten.
After only about half of his one hour break was through Phillip felt a strange sensation, like static electrical discharges running over the surface of his skin in a wave. While it wasn't exactly unusual to have strange phenomena happen in the research base, what worried him was the direction it seemed to come from. His own lab, where he had left Nevil to toy with the anomalous material.
Phil stood up from his table in a flurry and raced out of the cafeteria, down the halls and toward his lab. Something that struck him as peculiar as he got closer to the lab was that he noticed there were no longer researchers in the halls. Not even a diminished number, there were simply none at all. He wondered briefly if there had been an evacuation of some kind that he had missed, but then dismissed that thought as there would be an alarm if that were the case. Had something gone wrong and they were all gathering around to see? Or had they all gotten spooked by the static electricity?
Phil's heart sunk as he approached the entrance to his lab, there was already an armed security detail posted outside. That was not a good sign. He approached the guards cautiously and tried to enter the lab, only to have one of them step in front of the door and stop him.
"I'm sorry sir, but this lab is restricted," came the gruff voice of the guard.
"Restricted? That's my lab! My friend is in there. Doctor Nevil Siggins. Is he alright?"
The guard remained stone faced, "I can't answer that, all information is restricted."
Phil panicked, not sure what to do. It must have been evident on his face because the other guard spoke up, "Sir, we need to ask you to leave this wing of the base until you receive notice informing you that you may return to duties."
Phillip looked at him wide eyed and asked, "Am I in danger by being here?"
Once again the guard only gave him a hard stare and responded, "That information is restricted."
A cold pit sunk in Phillip's stomach as he heard those words again, noting that the first guard now had his finger hovering over the trigger of his rifle. In a fit of panic Phil turned and ran, fleeing the deafening and uncharacteristic silence of the labs and his thoughts consumed by the unknown fate of his friend Nevil.
