Akio looked out the window, "I hope so."
He stood up and walked quickly. If his wound hurts, he won't show it.
"I have to go," he said.
"Can't you stay for breakfast?" she said. "We can go for breakfast. There is a nice little restaurant a few blocks away. Brunch is good. We can walk. I have a treat. This is the only thing I can do."
Akio pulled the shirt over his head. "You are pregnant with a boy," he said.
"A boy? I can't believe it," she said. "a boy?"
"Yes," he said. "Do not you remember?"
"I—well—I—just didn't expect it. A boy? Yes, a boy," she looked down at her pregnant belly and the little boy inside. "I never thought I would give birth to a boy. This hasn't happened yet."
"Obviously, you must stop the detestable behavior of your undisguised man."
She gave him an expression.
"Hate men? That's the correct way of saying it, isn't it? A woman who resents men?" He went on, "Of course it's for the child."
She was sad, frowned, and pointed words on her tongue, ready, ready to be beaten with a whip. Instead, she said, "I don't hate men, but yes. Yes. Everything is different now."
"Breakfast? Is it coming out now? Because it told the truth?" Mingfu smiled. "I may be overly honest, but I am still hungry."
"Haha," she said. "No, it's still going on, but now we're paying each other."
Mars Matias drove his mini-taxi into the Danmanos Corporate Park. The people who rented cars before him liked country music and loud country music. Mars was late for his appointment, he was too lazy to change the space station, and any form of music was better than silence. He let it go. Today, he is a bit rustic.
Dammanos World Headquarters is a city in itself. It has three restaurants, two bars, a shop, a fitness center with a climbing wall, two basketball courts, a swimming pool, a rìto center, a bank center, a dry cleaner, and even a hair salon.
The walking path is winding and winding, passing through the campus, back and forth. The grass is very lush and well maintained. The rest of the Pittsburgh metropolitan area became withered and brown during the heat wave, but the green plants on the Danmanos campus did not seem to have been affected at all. The ducks splashed in the man-made pond, which was shining in the sun, while the employees of Danmanos ate lunch and chat on the terrace next door, using umbrellas and thin sprinklers to block the noon sun.
This is a good place. While trying to maintain the campus speed limit of 10 miles per hour, Mars glanced at the campus map in his hand. He almost ran into a jogger at lunchtime. The jogger jumped off the cornflower blue bumper unscathed. Instead of raising his middle finger to Mars and cursing him, he smiled and waved at him ーーDid not cause any harm.
Wow, it's not in Kansas anymore.
Mars raised his hand-I'm sorry.
The Antwater building is adjacent to the man-made pond. Mars stopped in a parking spot. The entire campus seems to be the only one who is empty.
The Unterwater building is a huge glass dome that emits light from the inside. The curved glass windows reflect the silver pond, the green trees and grass, and the blue sky. It is considered a miracle of modern design, and its brilliance has appeared in dozens of architectural articles and magazines.
Mars squinted in the sunlight. There were tears in his eyes. Anteaters are beautiful and difficult to observe at the same time.
He grabbed the worn canvas messenger bag on the passenger seat with one hand. He pressed his head with his other hand and smoothed the curly semi-circular African hairstyle. He checked the sun visor one last time, and then climbed out of the car.
He strode across the grass and into the building.
The meeting was held at noon. Sharp. He was ten minutes late.
When Mars was intercepted by security officers, he only took one step.
Paul, at least as it says on his name tag, coughed, raised two fingers, and motioned for Mars to come towards him. Paul was not like most of the security guards Mars met, not like the swollen, tieless, pretentious people he met, nor the young, thin, and pale security guards he met. Paul is tall and strong. He looks like a Marine, or a mercenary. He is just doing business. No smile, no gossip.
Mars could not imagine anyone would embarrass Paul.
"Hey, Paul," Mars said.
Paul shook his head, his lips curled straight. He knows the type of Mars. Smart, a child who lives in the city center, relies on his own efforts to cheer up and make a difference, but no matter how hard he works, he has never been able to kick the chips off his shoulders. It is this chip that will get young people like Mars into trouble. Paul can see who is a good opponent a mile away. In this regard, Paul could find any weakness a mile away. He has a pair of keen eyes and can estimate a person's height within a few seconds.
"Who are you here to meet?"
"Bruce Deman," Mars said.
"Bao," Paul said.
Mars handed him a canvas messenger bag, "Is it really necessary?"
"Yes."
Paul took everything out of the bag. He flipped through the books and notebooks, searching between the pages.
"Really?"
Paul opened and closed Mars’ sunglasses case, checked his laptop, clicked on his ballpoint pen, opened an aspirin bottle, looked inside, smelled it, and closed the lid.
Mars looked to the left. His heels swayed back and forth. Don't be ten minutes late. He is now fifteen years old and is about 0 minutes late.
Mars closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Paul checked a tube of lip balm. He tore off his hat and sniffed it.
"Strawberry?" Paul commented. "It's kind of girly, don't you think?" Paul likes to give people shit.
"Are you kidding?" Mars crossed his arms, head sideways.
Paul put everything back in Mars' canvas bag, and then walked around the table with a metal probe.
"Put your arms aside. Separate your legs."
Mars did what he said.
Paul moved the stick along Mars's arms and sides, up and down the outside and the inside of his legs.
The wand said nothing.
Paul returned to his desk and looked at the computer.
"full name?"
Mars Matthias
"I won't show you on the list."
"I have an appointment at noon."
"With Mr. Danman?"
"Yes."
"You are late," Paul said. "You are not on the list either."
"This is a mistake. A few months ago, I made an appointment with Wendy, his personal assistant."
"Wendy, you say?"
"Yes."
"She is usually good at it. I can hardly believe that she will forget to put you on the list."
Paul picked up the phone and dialed the number. He held it to his ear for a while, then put it back in the cradle, "She is having lunch."
Mars rummaged through his notebook and took out an email from Wendy, confirming his meeting with Bruce Deman. He was very happy that he printed it out. Mars is proud of his preparation. He handed the e-mail to Paul. Paul took it and read it.
"Well," Paul said. "Wait a moment."
Paul was about to pick up the phone again when his head jerked up. He squinted his eyes and stared at an old man who had just entered the building through the gate.
The man is wearing brown work jeans and a plaid shirt. His gray hair was cut short and neatly combed.
The old man stared straight ahead and walked to the elevator entrance. He moves quickly and his arms are stiff on the sides of his body. A row of security card readers is set up in front of the elevator. In a short period of time, Mars was already there, several DenmanNoos employees passed them, each swiping a magnetic card, waiting for the beep and the green light, and then continue.
When checking Mars' bag, Paul walked around the table and strode towards the old man, who was about to stop him at the security checkpoint.
The old man must have seen Paul coming towards him from the corner of his eye, because he visibly shrank and walked faster. As soon as he reached the security card reader, he put his hands on both sides of the turnstile and arched the roof cleanly.
"Stop it!" Paul roared. He ran. His thin, sturdy body caught up with the old man in less than ten steps and a leap, and he easily crossed the turnstile. Paul stood between the old man and the elevator.
Although Mars didn't see Paul pressing a button or calling for help, a dozen security guards in uniforms, with weapons tied to their waists, seemed to appear from nowhere. They surrounded the old man.
Paul ordered: "Leave the house."
"I just want to see that gentleman." Just a moment," the old man said. He tried to walk past Paul and towards the elevator. This was a mistake.
In an instant, Paul let the old man lie on the ground, lying prone on the ground. Paul's muscular forearm pressed against the old man's neck. This reminded Mars of a lion hunting a terrible antelope-a terrible, old, and feeble antelope. Paul pressed the old man's face against the glass tile floor. His knees rested on the old man's small back.
"No, more complaints," Paul said.
The old man’s cheek was pressed to the floor, his face wrinkled with pain. His eyes scanned back and forth, breathing heavily. His face began to turn bright purple. Zi sè stretched from the person's face to the top of his head. Mars could see purple through the man's sparse gray hair.
Paul stood up. The old man was still lying face down on the ground, arms outstretched to the sides. He did not move. Mars doesn't know if he can do it. Since then ー ー Since then, Mars has never happened again. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)