"Reee-laaax", Thompson said, and he smoothed out the shoulders of my jacket. "We're gonna wow 'em. We've got a great product. You made a good product."
He was damn right, I had. BX900 had been mine, from inception and design through to prototyping and trials, and I'd done damn good work.
BX900 was, in fact, my best work.
"You coulda worn a sharper tie, though." He tugged at my tie, straightening it.
"I like this tie," I replied, and I must've betrayed some measure of tension or stress because Thompson flinched, let go, and stepped back.
"Okay, okay, easy, there, Cam. The tie is fine." He was damn right about that, too -- it was the art deco one that Lucille gave me right after we got married. In fact, I'd worn this tie to keep me focused and grounded, not to mention to help me cope with the reality of the moment. In just a few minutes, a bevy of military brass would be stepping into the show lab, and Thompson would try to sell them the greatest thing I've ever made: the most unlikely weapon they'd ever seen.
They weren't gonna buy it.
"...see that Balthazar Dynamics' reputation is well-earned. Our state-of-the art R&D facilities, paired with the latest in manufacturing processes, allow us to synergize...." Thompson was into his spiel, and eight aging men in uniforms, chests crusted with bars of color and gold, listened. I stood beside him, hands folded in front of me, holding the remote. After he'd introduced me as the lead designer, I fell into half-paying attention to Thompson; I used to be in sales, long ago, and there was -is- still a hole in my soul from that experience. But eventually, I heard him give me my cue: "...the BX900 Field-Deployable Tactical Superiority BioPlatform."
I pressed the button on the remote in my hands, heard the pen door open, took a breath --
-- and waited.
Two seconds later, BX900 strode out of the pen and into the center of the show lab.
Silence hung over us all, until one of the military men found his wits -or maybe just his voice- and said:
"That's a cow."
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