Midnight Pub

silicon jungle pt. 1


His gloved hand glittered under the weakly refracted moonlight. The rain fell, with no smell of petrichor, but instead a gritty staleness. The water continuously failed, never reaching its destination, never fulfilling its purpose. What purpose? Naturally, to nourish whatever plants were directly underneath it. But in the case of the flora directly underneath this water, this was strictly disallowed. For experimental purposes. Instead, the water bounced off a clear barrier of silicon (quartz-glass) and dribbled onto barren silica-y soil. But this was not to be lamented: a new purpose was acknowledged; the rain was ornamental.

He stood in a greenhouse. His gloves were covered in the material, and so were a lot of other things.

Things on his person that were now glittery:

Things on his person that remained unglittered:

At this point, the situation looked straight out of a '40s noir film, with our good-looking protagonist just as gray-scaled as everything else: black-haired, gray-eyed, serious, cynical, static. The effect was broken by the green undersides of the leaves.

He coughed once, twice, four times, took a small bottle out from his backpack, took a deep sip from the tepid water. It really sucked that he wasn't wearing a mask. He didn't think he would need one, but now he'd have to get treated for silicosis, if treatment was even possible. He looked around for a place to wipe his hands, but all of the plants were covered in glimmering grit and all surfaces were covered in plants. For emphasis, it should be added that the floor was moss. Sparkly moss. He didn't go outside to wash himself off for fear of triggering the silica burst again.

Unlike most greenhouses, this one was not humid or warm at all; the air was crisp and chilly. It was not, however, abandoned: there was a clipboard holding maintenance logs next to the door. The most recent entry was from four hours ago, at 19:04. A Dr. Elias Agassiz had been there to adjust the silica releasers. Releasers? At that moment, a series of four poofs occurred around the room, beginning with a nozzle a few meters to his right and advancing to the one which originally assaulted him. He moved to the center of the greenhouse (it was small, so it only took two paces) before he got another lungful of the particles. He watched as the five clouds of glitter sparkled, settled to create a fresh layer on the foliage. The rest of the air had a subtle dreamlike shine to it as well. Just being there was enough to permanently damage his lungs forever. He needed to hurry and collect the samples.


That sounds like... dangerous stuff?

Can't wait for part II!



Looking forward to pt. 2. Thank you for posting this.