The Crystal City

David Lazaro sat at his shiny new metal desk waiting, for what he did not know, but he sat and waited for whatever he was supposed to be waiting for.
He had been on Uce Quintus for a week now, waiting, waiting for today. A fortnight ago he had received a message.

He had been sat at his antique mahogany desk in his office in the heart of London's Old Town when his computer beeped. He felt more at home here than in the new technologically advanced London that had sprung up after the devastation of the floods of 20 years earlier. Turning his attentions to the computer from his paperwork he opened up his in box to find;

'I need your help. One week from today take the shuttle to Uce Quintus and report to the reception of Paragon Research in Crystal City. Introduce yourself as Alphonso Camacho. I have arranged for you to start work in their PR department. I'll explain everything to you after you have settled in. Wait for me in your office in two weeks time.
Please do not try and trace this message.

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