Looking into the clear,
green-tinged fluid of the processing-tank, Dr. Halverson
shuddered slightly. He could tell that the artificial maturation
was going just as planned, even without the instruments to
record the changes since the doctor was now able to confirm that
fact visually. The kid now had the physical features and
developmental level of a thirteen-year-old as opposed to someone
of the boy’s own original age. It
was
an interesting thing to watch, and Dr. Halverson had thus far
managed to detach himself emotionally from what he was actually
doing to the kid.
The only thing the doctor was currently
worried about was the fact that one of the scientists who worked
for Dr. Balkus would happen to notice that this processing-tank
was being more closely monitored then the rest of them. It
wouldn’t take much forethought on their part to realize that
there was something out of the ordinary going on here. In fact,
all they would have to do if they wanted to find out about the
project was to check the records in this terminal’s database.
Dr. Henderson, who knew more about
computers than Halverson himself, had said to leave the matter
of the main database to him. But that didn’t solve the more
immediate problem that Halverson faced from the doctors who were
loyal to Dr. Balkus. Just one of them could undo most or all of
what Halverson was doing here. One word about the kid leaking to
Balkus would be enough to get him in very serious trouble. In
fact, both his life and that of the kid were now in an equal
amount of danger.
Halverson knew that Gyou would execute
him, probably in the most painful manner the old Zoalord could
think of, if he got word of Balkus knowing about the kid, or of
Gyou’s plans for him for that matter. And the kid, well, with
how dependent his body was on the chemical solution Halverson
had prepared for him; any withdrawal or change would prove fatal
in a matter of time.
It was like that with all the people
that Chronos processed. With the mutigenic fluid permeating
their tissues and by extension eventually their internal organs,
and the physical and genetic changes it forced their cells to
undergo, it was no surprise to any of the scientists that worked
in Chronos that the human body became dependent on it after a
time. The real challenge for the processing technicians like
Halverson and his colleagues was to slowly and gently wean the
people off the fluid so that their bodies would no longer need
it.
He had heard reports that, before it had
been accepted practice to have newly hired techs train under
their predecessors, there had been a lot of people killed by
inexperienced young scientists who had made those kinds of
changes without bothering to see if their Zoanoids were at the
right stage of development to survive them. Dr. Halverson took a
reasonable amount of pride in the fact that he knew enough not
to make any of those kinds of mistakes.
But still, doing this kind of thing to
someone who wasn’t yet at their peak of physical development
made things that much more difficult. The scientist in Halverson
was exhilarated by the challenge, and Dr. Halverson had to
remind himself constantly of just this kind of scientific
exhilaration whenever his conscience started to trouble him.
That had been happening less and less of late, something that
Dr. Halverson was very grateful for.
It
could
be somewhat troubling at times, that feeling that he was
becoming less and less human as time went on, but humanity
wasn’t something that was highly valued in Chronos. Turning his
attention back to his work, Dr. Halverson was unaware that he
was being observed. In fact, the only time that Halverson
noticed the person standing next to him was when they laid a
hand on his right shoulder.
"Aah!" Turning suddenly to face the man
now standing beside him, Halverson was relieved to see the
familiar face of Dr. Sanderson.
"Nice, Ed. You don’t look like a
man who has anything
to hide," Sanderson said with biting sarcasm.
"You startled me."
"I imagine so. After all, I could have
just as easily been someone else. Here, I thought you might be
hungry."
With that, Dr. Sanderson handed a large
sandwich over to his fellow scientist and processing technician.
Dr. Halverson was very grateful for this consideration, since he
had just started trying to figure out how he would be able to go
and have lunch without being certain if the project was going to
be safe from prying eyes for even that small amount of time.
Eating his sandwich while at the same time being scrupulously
careful not to drop crumbs on the monitoring console, Dr.
Halverson finished in a much shorter time than he would have had
he gone to the cafeteria.
"So, what’s the status of our little
project?"
"As you can see, it’s not quite so
little anymore," Dr. Halverson said, waving his hand at the
figure suspended in the processing fluid.
"Yes, I noticed that, too. Good work."
"I think Commander Gyou would be
pleased if he could see this."
At least I certainly hope so,
Halverson added silently. "For that matter, where is the
Commander? I haven’t gotten any requests for a progress report
as yet."
"You were probably too busy to check up
on what’s been going on outside the base," Dr. Sanderson
commented, stating the obvious with remarkable aplomb.
"Right. I haven’t left my post since I
was assigned here."
"Good. That’s very dedicated of you. I,
however, was up in the Information Control Sector. It turns out
that the Guyvers and their group are trying to escape through
Takeshiro again."
"Through Takeshiro? Even after what
happened to them all last time?"
"Apparently so," Dr. Sanderson said,
nodding. "Anyway, the reason that the Commander hasn’t yet
showed up to demand a progress report from you is because he’s
gone out to fight the Guyvers himself."
"What?"
"Yes. And get this: the test subject has
showed up as well."
"Commander Gyou’s prototype?" Halverson
asked, incredulous. Halverson knew that the test subject had a
name, but it was of no concern to him. "How could he have even
survived this long?"
"He seems to be determined to live for
as long as he can," Sanderson said. "He also seems to have some
help that we know very little about."
"You’re referring to that weapon that he
always carries around," Halverson said. "The one that has the
power to actually penetrate the skins of our Zoanoids, despite
the fact that all of them have been specifically engineered to
be resistant to any kind of weapon that has been made."
"Yes, that’s the one," Sanderson said.
"I’ve suggested numerous times that what we really need to be
doing is finding out just what group of people that this errant
test subject has been in regular contact with, but so far it has
proved impossible to keep a watch on him. As you know, he can
sense the presence of Zoanoids."
"I know, because he himself is a Zoalord
prototype. It was very careless of them over at Chronos Arizona
not to make sure that all of the test subjects that had been
used in the making of Commander Gyou’s Zoalord body were all
really killed."
"It would be better if you keep that
opinion to yourself when Dr. Balkus is around, he was the one
who oversaw the disposal of three of the four prototypes. If you
remember, Balkus first thought that he had gotten rid of all of
them."
"Yes, I know," Halverson nodded. "It
wasn’t until the first of the sabotages and attacks started
happening that he realized that he had made a mistake."
"Yes, and we all know just how touchy
the old doctor can get about making mistakes," Sanderson
smirked.
"Yes," Halverson grinned. "He seems to
think that than kind of thing is beneath him. It must have
something to do with how old he is. I don’t think he’s caught on
to the fact that everyone makes some mistakes somewhere in their
life."
"Don’t tell that to Dr. Balkus,"
Sanderson said, smirking.
"I’m not feeling particularly suicidal
today," Halverson said, smiling back.