Perfect Dark: The Novelization


The sprawling blue sky seemed to float ambrosially above the breathtakingly-tall DataDyne skyscraper, as hover-cars seemed to dance around the top and the center of the stark, grey-scale building. The magnificence of this building seemed to overflow itself onto the smaller, inapplicable business establishments around the brooding, but beautiful business district. The huge, panoramic windows, which almost appeared to individuate themselves, were plastered in a circular fashion on the building, like mirrors reflecting in the sun. The glint from the windows made them appear to emanate their own luminescence. Oh the beauty of this building; cocooned in a heavenly phenomena of both monstrosity and luminosity.

Dr. Fredrich Carroll stepped out of his small Bronset XIX hovercar, escorted by two DataDyne security agents dressed in civilian clothing. They parked in an extensive aboveground parking structure about fifty meters from the north entrance of the DataDyne skyscraper. The Datadyne structures consisted of numerous parking structures, countless entrances, but the significance entrances were marked with the ubiquitous "D" insignia, in which no one mistaken. Dr. Carroll moved gawkily towards the sun-bathed north entrance of the skyscraper with the two agents, with their Maas pistols holstered on their thighs, being keenly perceptive of their surroundings, as they were escorting a high-profile individual to one of the most high-powered CEO's in the United States.

Keeping the burnished briefcase enclosed tightly in his right hand, sweat began to incessantly decant from the doctor's face, the temperature apparently rising rapidly as he neared the entrance. The agents sped up their pace; Dr. Carroll was forced to walk faster, until finally his hand reached the cool, metallic surface of the entrance handle, and it quickly whirled open. The lobby was quiet, and was fairly empty, with an exception of a blonde-haired woman, with copper-toned skin, who was affixed on writing on a bulletin post on the blue-marble-colored wall. The fluorescent lights whirred in a muffled tone, as its rays cast a relaxing, soothing chroma on the walls, floors, and even the ceilings itself. The floors were blue-marble-colored, with a rug emblazoned with the aforementioned "D", which covered about forty percent of the flooring. Directly in front of Dr. Carroll was a lone receptionist. She appeared to be in her early 20's, brunette, brown eyes, very petite. She seemed to perceive Dr. Carroll's stare, and looked up. She smiled brightly, eyeing the two agents side-by-side of him, and she pointed at a lambent, cylindrical-shaped door.

"Through that door, Mrs. DeVries is waiting." The woman continued her plastic smile, and returned to what she was previously tasked with. Everything is so shiny here, Dr. Carroll thought, as he passed through the door with the agents. They went up a few flight of stairs, until they reached an upper floor, which was gilded in DataDyne adulation. Rugs with the "D" were everywhere, the walls were emblazoned with the "D". The ubiquity of DataDyne was starting to irritate Dr. Carroll. Dr. Carroll seemed to be embellished in his thoughts when the agents opened a large, blue-marble door, and saw Cassandra DeVries sitting at her desk, with another woman to her left.

Dr. Carroll clenched his teeth as he looked into the bituminous, but starkly radiant eyes of Cassandra DeVries. Her hair was blonde, and she was wearing a blue, business-suit blouse, a black skirt, and had a gold amulet around her thin neck. Her red, slightly-chapped lips, managed to take form of a reticent smile.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Carroll," Cassandra said, breaking the undiluted silence of the room. The golden rays of the sun flowed like a river into the room, spilled on the desk and onto the floor. The woman standing next to DeVries nodded her head at the two DataDyne agents who escorted Dr. Carroll, and they disappeared out of the room. "Good afternoon, Dr. DeVries." Dr. Carroll returned.

Cassandra's eyes drifted towards the woman standing by her desk.

"This is Miss Carla Alvarez, our Head of Intelligence and Security of DataDyne Sector 1", Cassandra introduced. The woman proffered her hand, and Carroll reciprocated, giving her a firm handshake. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor," the woman delivered a seemingly fictitious smile, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. Dr. Carroll sensed this, and knew that they both meant business behind the facade of niceties.

"Wine?" DeVries spurted in a pallid, but interested tone. DeVries spun around in her chair, and opened a small mini-refrigerator. A large bottle of Broadbent wine made its way in DeVries' hand, and she motioned Alvarez and Dr. Carroll to sit on the chairs arrayed in front of the desk. She also proffered three wine glasses, popped the cork, and poured the wine into the glasses. Everything was swiftly, but passionately executed. Professionally to say the least. Cassandra smiled, and irreproachably tapped Dr. Carroll's briefcase with her index finger.

" I want to see what you've gathered from Mr. Carrington for us, Dr. Carroll." Cassandra leaned back, and took a slow sip of her wine. Dr. Carroll's throat began to feel moderately dry, so he also took a sip. Miss Alvarez sensed his discomfort, and she gave another fictitious smile, but this one was much more impersonal.

"Well," Dr. Carroll started, "What we have here is possible evidence that Mr. Carrington currently developing new technologies." He popped the latches of his briefcase, and slowly crept it open, facing the open briefcase at DeVries. The contents in the briefcase consisted of a few high-resolution photographs of what appears to be the overhead, satellite view of hangars, and airstrip, and a close-up photograph, of what appeared to be a small tangerine-sized camera. The other contents consisted of documents and transcripts between the Carrington Institute and other government agencies. Cassandra's smile seemed to fade as she reviewed the contents, thumbing the photographs, and the documents.

Cassandra handed Miss Alvarez the documents after she thumbed through them. The documents itself were gibberish, just presumably vital information written in an encoded computer language. Miss Alvarez's expression expressed disapprobation, and she let out a sigh.

"This isn't all of it, Dr. Carroll. This is only what I perceive as only partial evidence of Carrington's surreptitiousness. Above all, we wanted intelligence on Carrington's proposal of the new communication addendum he was seeking to have reviewed." Cassandra's cold stare made Dr. Carroll's throat even more dry. He quickly took a longer, deeper gulp of wine, and sat the glass down nervously.

"That's impossible. The proposal is there. It's in those documents." Dr. Carroll pointed at the transcripts Alvarez was mentally decoding. "No it's not," She spat, not looking up. "It's not here. He's lying to us, he knows where they are." Alvarez's cold stare transformed into a ominous glare. Dr. Carroll knew what he got himself into. A suicidal mission. For Carrington. And now, he was in bigger trouble than he had anticipated. They discovered the missing piece of the puzzle, and now they were going to get it from him. Anyway they could. What happened next was all a huge blur.

Dr. Carroll attempted to bolt out of the room, indexing a flash grenade from the inner pockets of his suit. Miss Alvarez reacted instantaneously, sporting a V-4 tranquilizer gun from a hidden holster somewhere on her hip. Time seemed to slow down, as he clamored for the door release hatch. He could hear Alvarez pull the trigger, and spit out a nonlethal dart hollowed in tranquilizer that is strong enough to incapacitate a boar. The dart hit him hard on his left shoulder blade, and he can already feel the effects, as the tranquilizer rapidly percolated into his bloodstream. Instant dizziness, and loss of balance came over him like a menacing storm.

He finally, with much great effort, slammed the release hatch until the door swayed open, and through disoriented vision, he could see the figures approaching him quickly. He felt a hard smash against his right shoulder. He realized he was being seized by security personnel. With his index finger still on the pull-ring of the stun grenade, he strived, with heavy effort, to pull it. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, and the voices all around him seemed to become more remote, the fluorescent lights above him fading into void. But he still had his index on that ring, and he, if it were the last resort to escape, that's what he would do. Before his last trickle of consciousness was lost, he managed, with concentrated, but lethargic, to pull the pin, and he felt the grenade literally drop out of his suit.

Bang! He could see the magnesium flare/flash of the stun grenade behind closed eyelids, and the deafening roar that ensued. He suddenly felt an invigoration surge throughout his body, and although severely languid, he was able to stagger to his feet, and get back towards the lobby. His ears were heavily ringing, and his vision was started to become more disoriented. He looked back at the pile of guards and Alvarez, and they were staggering to their feet, blindly trying to seize Dr. Carroll. Dr. Carroll began down a flight of stairs, the fluorescent lights blinding his already severely-compromised sight. He stabbed his hands into his slacks pocket, and felt the magnetic strip of his Panic card.

He knew that the panic terminals were situated just outside the lobby, as he mentally noted before entering the skyscraper. He could hear the muffled cries and yells of strained vocal cords of the security and Alvarez, attempting to seize him before he had entered the lobby. D. Carroll was running and staggering blindly, knocking over vases and plant stands, as he heard the rapidly approaching security behind him. Almost, goddamn it, almost!, Dr. Carroll said to himself. He felt sweat incessantly pour down his face, blinded by the constant flow of fluorescent lights into his eyes. He staggered into the lobby, and literally hurled himself out of the door, into the north entryway. The panic terminal stood derelict, and sun-drenched adjacent to a few thick columns near the entryway. Having the magnetic card at hand, he was just about to swipe the card feeder into the terminal, when he felt another cold slap, this time on his thigh. The tranquilizer made its way into his bloodstream, and he felt he was going to drop dead at that moment. With one more blast of concerted effort, he swiped the panic card into the terminal before collapsing unconscious, and before he did so, a microsecond of delight crossed his mind.