Engineer Alan Perez held the corked test tube on his hand and shook it in gentle circling motions. The water inside contained blue fluid that danced around, and then finally blended into colorlessness. The man breathed a sigh and placed the vial into the test tube rack, hands steady, but enervated. Just in front of his table was the standard company wall clock with the proud Manila Water Company logo. Six in the morning - not even break time yet. There was nothing much to do around the place, and for all the complexities of the processes in the water treatment plant, once you have gotten used to its peculiarities, life within the second Balara plant became filled with doldrums.
"Batch thirteen is clear from intermediate chlorination, recommending the release for post-disinfection, Sir," he said in a boilerplate manner while writing down on a blue ledger.
A man with a hardhat and an unshaven smug walked in. "Good, good. Let's keep up this pace so we'll be able to finish all of today's work this morning. Then we can take the afternoon off." The man was Supervisor Carlo Nuñez, a stubborn man who's said to have been around long before Manila had any potable water running on its pipes.
Alan's always hated his dry humor - even that day. Work never really ended in the water treatment plan, and the horribly inefficient redtape made work even twice as labor intensive. To top it off, nobody ever really paid attention to the work they're doing, despite the fact that it was them on the frontline of hygiene, making sure half of the city didn't die from some obscure water-borne disease just waiting to get into the lifeline of Manila. Oh no, not that, people would rather go over bonuses people were getting in sister companies than wonder whether or not that glass of water they were gulping down had its own share of life-sucking bonuses in it. Idiots. All of them.
To Alan and everybody there, they were practically unsung heroes.
"Oh yeah, Alan, the guys from the SIWI have the post-treatment package ready. I've asked the boys to start unloading from the vats for this batch," Carlo grumpily reported to Alan, "You can just send the pre-testing analysis to me later after lunch." Alan sneered secretly - Carlo never did have regard for his work and often did reckless things that drove Alan who was pathologically meticulous, insane.
Alan opened up the drawer and took out a small medicine bottle. The Swedish International Water Institute's logo had been emblazoned on it. Was it really okay to just dispense additional chemicals into the waterways without notifying the people in at the MWS head office? He was going to ask Carlo but it seemed that he had already taken off for an early and lengthy break. If the senate enquiries had to crucify somebody - he wouldn't really mind to volunteer Carlo. That b*stard.
The engineer shook his head and poured the chemical into a flask of water on his table. The water remained colorless, which Alan quickly found to be odd. Usually for test chemicals sent in by SIWI or any other water monitoring agency, it always had trace coloring to ensure that everybody working with the substance would know the water's experimental.
Lifting the flask, he walked towards his pet mice within the same office. He had always kept a pair of dagang costa as a quick measure for water safety, knowing that even for rats the particular species of white-haired rats were susceptible to strong chemical reactions in the water.
The mice drank hastily; it was a hot day after all.
Alan watched carefully. The mice seemed fine and he breathed a sigh. Maybe Carlo did have a point in cutting corners when it came to the procedural labyrinths of administering water treatment. The chemical's supposed to be just another supplementary compound - nothing outside routine.
And then the mice proved his thoughts wrong.
The mice convulsed started coughing. Not ordinary coughing, but coughing like it's in pain. Alan had never seen such a reaction before - at least nothing so quick and gut wrenching. Blood started spattering after every cough and within a few seconds, the mouse stopped moving. Alan moved closer to the cage. The rats still had their eyes open, and for some reason both of them looked like they were still breathing. "Is it poisoned?" Alan wondered.
Then one of the rats sprang to life, blood streaming from its eyes and started shrieking uncharacteristically. A rush of chills circulated in Alan's body as he watched with horror the rat systematically bashing the cage in an attempt to get to Alan. The rat's immaculately white fur soon turned red with its own blood.
Alan was thrown back in surprise.
"My God!"
He then remembered Carlo's words. The substance would be delivered to all the treatment plants that day, and theirs was already administered in the thirteenth batch of the day's supply. With a boost of adrenaline he darted out to halt the release.
"sh*t! sh*t! sh*t! sh*t!"
Alan saw Carlo ,still standing on top of the open-air treatment areas, and the fact that he's still there meant the water was still unreleased. Alan panted as he got closer, staring at the ground. "Jesus f*cking Christ. That chemical from SIWI is dangerous. Good thing you're still here Carlo, you motherfucker."
Carlo did not reply.
"Say something you son of a..." Alan stood up and stared at Carlo, face to face. Carlo was livid, his eyes bloodshot and his mouth slacked. Blood slowly came out of his eyes and nose and a steady, rising grunt came from his throat.
Alan felt the need to run, but Carlo's eyes were somewhat teasing him. This was just a joke, wasn't it? It just had to be. Alan laughed, manically. "Okay I get it, now let's just..."
Carlo lunged forward and took Alan down in one bodily thrust. His teeth sank into Alan's throat and the blood purged erupted violently into the rapidly decreasing water reservoir. With Carlo's big burly build, Alan could only vainly struggle and watch as his blood choked up his breathing, leaving him into a writhing man soon bereft of life.
Howls echoed all around the treatment plant, along with blood curdling screams,drowned by the gushing of water, and the empty drumming of the exhaust fans.
The vector has been delivered.
And so with this, the purge of Manila begins.
Showing posts with label --Chemical Manila Rewrite. Show all posts
Showing posts with label --Chemical Manila Rewrite. Show all posts
Prologue: The Smoking Gun: Chemical Manila
Smoke blown from the thick cigar between the lips of the general wafted around, like the lingering feelings of resentment that emanated around the conversation. The general was far from being at a retirable age, but the weariness in his eyes and the wrinkles on his body told of a spiritual exhaustion beyond belief.
Across the table, a younger man with a press badge and bloodshot eyes resisted an urge to cough. On his hand is a small tickler notebook where his right hand scribbled madly, in a desperate fashion. "So," the reporter spoke, "you're saying that you know the real reason why on the twenty second of February, 1984, the regime was finally able to uncover Rebolusyon ng Alyansang Makabayan's plot to oust Marcos?"
The general nodded. He answered with a raspy voice. "The stakes were high for both sides, and between us and them was a secret that could turn the tide of the struggle. Neither the RAM or the dogs of Marcos would like the public to ever know about it, so in the event, the story revolving that aspect of the revolution was kept secret."
"The secret?" the reporter asked like a child on Christmas morning.
"The intelligence officers from within the RAM, they knew something was up at the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant right from the start. There was more to the project than it being overbudgeted, undersupervised, and unusually militarized. To those in the know, Marcos had meant for it to be that way - as to why, that was the question everybody was left to ask.
What we knew was that there was something else being developed there. The fact that the amount of resources being funneled into the place doubled, tripled, at the height of the rumors of the Sabah invasion's Jabidah incident led us to think it was a weapons research program. Funds were coming in from the president's own coffers, some of them even reportedly from the amassed gold from Yamashita̢۪s plunders, and until we knew what was going on there, we could not hope to bring Marcos down."
The fists of the general clenched as he bit on his cigar. The reporter stopped writing. "The Sabah Invasion, you say? You mean Operation Merdeka? If I remember it correctly it was a move to destabilize Sabah using trained Muslim commandos as a prelude to going to war with Malaysia over the territory. In the late sixties, the commandos rebelled when they couldn't stand what was going to happen and the higher ups of the military had them liquidated in Corregidor Island. As far as I know, after that, the Marcos government junked Operation Merdeka."
"Mistakes happened, but it seems the government had other ideas than to just forget about the islands. Either way, we had to know for ourselves what was going on. On the night of the 21st, we sent our black ops to investigate the plant. I'm the last living member of the support group of the unit that went inside."
"And then what did you see inside the plant?"
"The plant itself was heavily guarded but with our skilled troops, we managed to get in effortlessly. Once inside, evidence of human experimentation started showing up. Far from being just a nuclear power plant, sections of the place looked like a genetic laboratory, with specimens in stasis with overgrown muscular structures and menacing looks. We discovered that BNPP was in fact a cover for a research program for creating enhanced soldiers - not too different from Stalin's genetic experiments during the Second World War. All I was able to catch was something about the Tabon Man gene, of which I have no idea about even to this day."
The reported could barely mask the shock on his face as he stood aghast. The general smiled a bit. The secret had stayed hidden for so long he'd almost forgotten how much of a surprise it must be to somebody in the dark about the true "peaceful revolution." He slipped back into his seat before continuing.
"We tried to gather as much information as we could, but a firefight broke out in the plant. Those outside heard loud explosions coming from inside afterward and communications with our lead unit was broken. I supervised the retreat of the remaining units - the ones that went in never came back out, and soon the central building of the plant was in flames."
"What happened to the laboratory you discovered? Was there any information that you could have kept on record?" the reported leaned forward, as though trying to elude an imaginary eavesdropper.
The general sighed. "A good number of our comrades died that night, the price we had to pay for the destruction of the laboratory. Unfortunately for us, nobody survived among those who witnessed the place first hand or gathered documents. However - "
"However?"
"As I was the point man for the retreat, I trained my rifle's scope at the exit points. I thought I saw a man carrying a briefcase and a baby amidst the smoke and confusion. No, I'm pretty sure even now that it was in fact a man. I could not get a clear identification if it was friend or foe, so I hesitated."
"So you're claiming somebody survived the explosion and that person possibly has information on the secret of the nuclear power plant?"
"Yes. Of course, I couldn't tell anybody about the plant, even more so about how I let a survivor leave. It would bother our comrades, and we'll be spending unnecessary resources looking for him, and possibly endangering our lives further in the process."
The reporter finally closed his notebook. "The following day, the government started the crackdown on the RAM, Enrile and Ramos turned coat, and the people started gathering in EDSA, making the revolution public, ushering the People Power Revolt and the rest, they say, is history.
Meanwhile, the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant was deemed too dangerous to use and remained inoperable by the new administration, as you claim, as it probably was mean to be like that.
As for the events that happened that night, none of it ever leaked outside the military, leaving unsung heroes and forever changing the face of the so-called bloodless revolution. If I'm not mistaken, this story could possibly be the story of the century."
The general guffawed. "It seems you have researched this topic pretty quickly beforehand. I almost forgot to thank you for coming on such a short notice. "
A resigned expression permeated from the reporter's face. "I'm only interested in making sure everything that happened is in my notes. I take pride in my thoroughness."
"I feel like a burden has been lifted now knowing the people will know of the bravery of my comrades.They may finally rest at ease."
The reporter stood up. "Perhaps we misunderstood each other, sir General."
He pulled out a silenced pistol and unerringly pulled the trigger on the General's forehead. The general did not even see it coming. A moment later, he was dead, blood and brain pouring out of a wide exit wound where the lower half of the man's head used to be. The crimson stain slowly pooled into the wooden floor of the room.
"Loose lips sinks ships, General."
The smoke steadily cleared as the reported opened the door of the apartment and walked out into broad daylight. He tugged the press badge out of his neck and threw it on the creek just beside the street along with the smoking gun.
End chapter.
Across the table, a younger man with a press badge and bloodshot eyes resisted an urge to cough. On his hand is a small tickler notebook where his right hand scribbled madly, in a desperate fashion. "So," the reporter spoke, "you're saying that you know the real reason why on the twenty second of February, 1984, the regime was finally able to uncover Rebolusyon ng Alyansang Makabayan's plot to oust Marcos?"
The general nodded. He answered with a raspy voice. "The stakes were high for both sides, and between us and them was a secret that could turn the tide of the struggle. Neither the RAM or the dogs of Marcos would like the public to ever know about it, so in the event, the story revolving that aspect of the revolution was kept secret."
"The secret?" the reporter asked like a child on Christmas morning.
"The intelligence officers from within the RAM, they knew something was up at the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant right from the start. There was more to the project than it being overbudgeted, undersupervised, and unusually militarized. To those in the know, Marcos had meant for it to be that way - as to why, that was the question everybody was left to ask.
What we knew was that there was something else being developed there. The fact that the amount of resources being funneled into the place doubled, tripled, at the height of the rumors of the Sabah invasion's Jabidah incident led us to think it was a weapons research program. Funds were coming in from the president's own coffers, some of them even reportedly from the amassed gold from Yamashita̢۪s plunders, and until we knew what was going on there, we could not hope to bring Marcos down."
The fists of the general clenched as he bit on his cigar. The reporter stopped writing. "The Sabah Invasion, you say? You mean Operation Merdeka? If I remember it correctly it was a move to destabilize Sabah using trained Muslim commandos as a prelude to going to war with Malaysia over the territory. In the late sixties, the commandos rebelled when they couldn't stand what was going to happen and the higher ups of the military had them liquidated in Corregidor Island. As far as I know, after that, the Marcos government junked Operation Merdeka."
"Mistakes happened, but it seems the government had other ideas than to just forget about the islands. Either way, we had to know for ourselves what was going on. On the night of the 21st, we sent our black ops to investigate the plant. I'm the last living member of the support group of the unit that went inside."
"And then what did you see inside the plant?"
"The plant itself was heavily guarded but with our skilled troops, we managed to get in effortlessly. Once inside, evidence of human experimentation started showing up. Far from being just a nuclear power plant, sections of the place looked like a genetic laboratory, with specimens in stasis with overgrown muscular structures and menacing looks. We discovered that BNPP was in fact a cover for a research program for creating enhanced soldiers - not too different from Stalin's genetic experiments during the Second World War. All I was able to catch was something about the Tabon Man gene, of which I have no idea about even to this day."
The reported could barely mask the shock on his face as he stood aghast. The general smiled a bit. The secret had stayed hidden for so long he'd almost forgotten how much of a surprise it must be to somebody in the dark about the true "peaceful revolution." He slipped back into his seat before continuing.
"We tried to gather as much information as we could, but a firefight broke out in the plant. Those outside heard loud explosions coming from inside afterward and communications with our lead unit was broken. I supervised the retreat of the remaining units - the ones that went in never came back out, and soon the central building of the plant was in flames."
"What happened to the laboratory you discovered? Was there any information that you could have kept on record?" the reported leaned forward, as though trying to elude an imaginary eavesdropper.
The general sighed. "A good number of our comrades died that night, the price we had to pay for the destruction of the laboratory. Unfortunately for us, nobody survived among those who witnessed the place first hand or gathered documents. However - "
"However?"
"As I was the point man for the retreat, I trained my rifle's scope at the exit points. I thought I saw a man carrying a briefcase and a baby amidst the smoke and confusion. No, I'm pretty sure even now that it was in fact a man. I could not get a clear identification if it was friend or foe, so I hesitated."
"So you're claiming somebody survived the explosion and that person possibly has information on the secret of the nuclear power plant?"
"Yes. Of course, I couldn't tell anybody about the plant, even more so about how I let a survivor leave. It would bother our comrades, and we'll be spending unnecessary resources looking for him, and possibly endangering our lives further in the process."
The reporter finally closed his notebook. "The following day, the government started the crackdown on the RAM, Enrile and Ramos turned coat, and the people started gathering in EDSA, making the revolution public, ushering the People Power Revolt and the rest, they say, is history.
Meanwhile, the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant was deemed too dangerous to use and remained inoperable by the new administration, as you claim, as it probably was mean to be like that.
As for the events that happened that night, none of it ever leaked outside the military, leaving unsung heroes and forever changing the face of the so-called bloodless revolution. If I'm not mistaken, this story could possibly be the story of the century."
The general guffawed. "It seems you have researched this topic pretty quickly beforehand. I almost forgot to thank you for coming on such a short notice. "
A resigned expression permeated from the reporter's face. "I'm only interested in making sure everything that happened is in my notes. I take pride in my thoroughness."
"I feel like a burden has been lifted now knowing the people will know of the bravery of my comrades.They may finally rest at ease."
The reporter stood up. "Perhaps we misunderstood each other, sir General."
He pulled out a silenced pistol and unerringly pulled the trigger on the General's forehead. The general did not even see it coming. A moment later, he was dead, blood and brain pouring out of a wide exit wound where the lower half of the man's head used to be. The crimson stain slowly pooled into the wooden floor of the room.
"Loose lips sinks ships, General."
The smoke steadily cleared as the reported opened the door of the apartment and walked out into broad daylight. He tugged the press badge out of his neck and threw it on the creek just beside the street along with the smoking gun.
End chapter.
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