Welcome To The Umbrella Corporation

Chapter Seventeen

Like the training facility only a few miles away, the main Arklay lab run by Spencer was hidden underneath a beautifully constructed Victorian mansion. Wesker marveled at the glorious architecture at every turn, unable to connect the splendid, luxurious mansion above with the high-tech biological lab below. It was even more complex and lavishly decorated than the mansion at the training facility. The lobby was enormous, with a wide central staircase and an interior mezzanine going all the way around the second floor of the lobby. White marble pillars supported the high ceiling and an enormous crystal chandelier hung above the floor.

To the left of the lobby was a huge banquet room with an enormous table and enough seats for fifty people, with another mezzanine looking down from above it. To the right of the lobby was, for lack of a better term, an art gallery. A beautiful sculpture sat in the center of the room, reminding Wesker of the Venus de Milo. Paintings, portraits, and various works of art lined the walls, and even more of them were stacked in a rear supply room. For the most part, the first floor of the right wing of the mansion was reserved for displaying artwork. The second floor was mostly for executive offices, numerous study and recreation rooms, and a large library. Wesker thought that the mansion at the Marcus estate was awe-inspiring, but this mansion was probably twice the size, putting the other one to shame.

And that didn’t even include the expansive courtyard behind the mansion, complete with a huge, water-spraying fountain, cobblestone walkways through a well-managed garden, and even a hedge maze. Behind that was the guard house, where the large number of security personnel stayed. It had rooms for up to thirty security personnel, along with a large recreation room complete with a pool table, arcade games, a well-stocked bar, and even a small stage where musical performances could be held, although Wesker doubted that there were many of those.

But what interested Wesker the most was the well-maintained sense of secrecy and mystery the mansion and surrounding area emanated. When he stood in the mansion, he could imagine all the secret passageways and winding staircases hidden within the walls. He knew about secret switches and concealed doors that led to special sections of the mansion and laboratory underneath. He did not inquire about their purpose, but he was fascinated with them just the same. The only people with clearance to be in the mansion without a chaperone were employees of Umbrella, so why such secrecy and concealment?

The sheer scale of the operation was mind-blowing. The enormous laboratory complex built underneath the mansion was five times the size of the other lab. It didn’t just contain the standard research labs and observation rooms, it was the most extensive and varied scientific compound that Wesker had ever heard of. It contained dozens of separate labs, each working on a different aspect of the Progenitor. It had a huge underground water tank where they tested the virus on aquatic species. It even had its own power plant that generated enough electricity to run the entire lab complex.

And it wasn’t even complete yet. Plans existed to extend the lab underneath the courtyard as well. And now that the training facility was being shut down, the lab had to expand to make room for all the new equipment and the increased number of scientists working there. Wesker was amazed by the plans in progress, and was excited to be involved in such a wide-ranging project.

“How old is this place anyway?” he asked Spencer one evening while they were discussing the day’s work.

“Would you believe only eighteen years?” Spencer answered. “The mansion was built in 1970. The labs were built later, but they were mostly completed by 1972, the same year we started the training facility.”

“I’m older than this building. That amazes me.”

“Some people assume that the mansion is a historic site. We get inquiries occasionally from historical societies about the mansion and the training facility as well. We turn them down, of course.”

“Who was the architect?”

Spencer leaned back in his chair. “A man by the name of George Trevor. We hired him to design something more like a modern office building. Something functional but with a sense of artistic beauty. He gave us the design for this mansion instead. I guess you could say he was a man of vision.”

“He must have been to create a place like this.”

“We made some changes to his original blueprint, of course. He was not an Umbrella employee, so he didn’t know what kind of work we were going to do here. I made the alterations myself. I supervised the project from the beginning, as a matter of fact.”

“You did?” Wesker asked, surprised.

Spencer nodded. “I’m the one who chose Raccoon City as the location for this facility. I’ve personally overseen every development that’s taken place here since before the lab was built.”

“I didn’t know that,” Wesker said. “Have you always worked with Umbrella?”

At that, Spencer chuckled softly, as if Wesker was a child asking if he was Santa Claus. He did it frequently, and it bothered Wesker sometimes. He merely asked out of polite curiosity, not because he was truly interested. The response, however, made him take an interest.

“I’m one of the founders of Umbrella as it is today,” Spencer said, his voice loaded with pride and boastful intensity. “You know that my official title is Research Director, but you might not realize what that means. I’m on the Board of Directors for the entire company.”

Wesker’s jaw almost dropped.

Amused by Wesker’s wordless reaction, Spencer leaned back and continued. “Alexander Ashford and I reinvented the company back in 1953. At the time, it was just a bulk chemical distributor owned by his father. We were both amateur chemists, and we wanted to develop new chemicals and medicines instead of just buying and selling them. We had some moderate success, and set up a small laboratory where we could synthesize new compounds. That was thirty-five years ago.”

He paused, apparently overwhelmed by wistful nostalgia, giving Wesker time to venture a question. “Ashford’s the one who discovered the Progenitor, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he discovered it in 1958,” Spencer said distantly, as if deep in thought. “By that time, we’d made a small fortune designing some chemical compounds used in cosmetics of the day. Alexander wanted to build a state-of-the-art biological laboratory where he could work on vaccines and other medical products. I thought the venture was too risky, and I guess it caused a rift between us. He build the advanced laboratory in Antarctica, as you might be aware, while I came to America and had this lab built. I guess we just went our separate ways.”

Surprised at the sentimental tone Spencer had taken, Wesker didn’t know what to say. His usually ruthless, cold-hearted employer was not the type to get emotional or mushy over events of the past. Spencer was the kind of man who kept his emotions, if he even had any, closely in check. But Wesker could sense the powerful sadness in his eyes, and it profoundly worried him.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said, coming out of his trance. “I guess you wouldn’t know about what happened, would you?”

“About what?”

“Alexander died a few years ago,” Spencer said, shaking his head sadly. “He was killed in an accident at the Antarctica lab.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Wesker said sincerely. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right. It’s just that Alexander and I hadn’t spoken in several years, and I guess I regret it now. His death was a shock to all of us in the company. It was such a pointless tragedy.”

“What happened?”

“I was never given all the details. They were doing some sort of construction. Alexander was supervising the work when some scaffolding collapsed in high wind. Either that, or a support beam gave way, I’m not sure which. All I know is that eight men were killed in the accident and their bodies were never recovered.”

“That’s terrible,” Wesker said. “Why not?”

“The construction took place at the edge a high glacier cliff, a hundred feet above the ocean. The collapse caused an avalanche off the cliff and into the freezing water below. The bodies were never found.”

Spencer let out a great mournful sigh and shook his head again. “Alexander was a great man. He shouldn’t have died that way. He shouldn’t have died at all.”

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