It was half-an-hour past midnight when
Ingriam received the order to report to Dr. Balkus for further
examination. He had been told to expect something like this and
so was quick to leave the comfort of his bed and follow the
telepathic signal. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Lord
Imakarum Mirabilis was still asleep. Not understanding entirely
why he felt a connection to the Twelfth Zoalord, Ingriam almost
stayed to think about the matter, but his better judgment made
itself known, and he turned away to head for Dr. Balkus’
laboratory.
It was not his place to question the
orders or directives of his superiors, and Dr. Balkus was one of
the most prominent. The soft sound of his bare feet on the floor
was magnified by his own enhanced hearing, and the young Zoalord
only hoped that Lord Imakarum would not notice the sound and be
awakened by it.
Dr. Balkus had given very explicit
instructions to keep his existence a secret from Lord Imakarum.
Ingriam was not sure why, but orders were orders, and he would
not disobey one of his masters. The trip to Dr. Balkus’
laboratory was thankfully short, and Ingriam knew when Dr.
Balkus wanted him to enter.
XxXxXxX
Sensing the mind of Ingriam, Dr. Balkus
commanded his creation to come into his laboratory. The boy
Kenji Murakami may have been Lord Imakarum’s son, but Ingriam
was entirely his, and in the event that the improvements that he
had made to that infuriating rebel Masaki Murakami were not
sufficient to keep him loyal to Chronos, Ingriam was his secret
weapon. If the former Twelfth Zoalord had not been executed by
Lord Alkanphel, Dr. Balkus would perhaps have thanked him for
taking the boy.
At a telepathic order from Dr. Balkus,
Ingriam laid himself on the examination table. This was the
second month since Ingriam—or rather, young Kenji—had made the
suggestion to improve the immune systems of the Twelve Zoalords
so that they would recognize Aptom’s invading cells as a virus
and react accordingly. As Dr. Balkus had expected, Ingriam
himself had volunteered to become the test-bed for this new
modification. Dr. Balkus had been—and still was—concerned that
altering the immune response of a Zoalord might very well render
them immune to the retroviruses that were used to create and
improve them.
Dr. Balkus wanted to be completely
certain that the alterations he had made to Ingriam’s physiology
would not render the young Zoalord a Lost Unit. Not only would
that have been very suspicious to Imakarum, but it would also
mean that there was no real way to protect the Zoalords from
Aptom’s absorption ability. That alone would be annoying on a
professional level, since it would have reduced the Twelve
Overlords to the level of common Zoanoids when it came to
dealing with Aptom.
Dr. Balkus was well aware that only a
Lost Unit could resist commands from a Zoalord,
so he intended to test Ingriam’s
response to negative physical stimuli. He would attempt to
maintain a firm hold on Ingriam’s mind so that the boy would not
be able to move or resist. Removing a scalpel from the tray next
to his hand, Dr. Balkus took full control of Ingriam’s central
nervous system, then ran the sharp point of the scalpel across
Ingriam’s chest.
The young Zoalord did not even flinch
from the discomfort he must have felt, and while he knew that
was a positive sign, he was not going to place his faith
entirely on one single event. Taking hold of Ingriam’s right
hand, Dr. Balkus dug the point of the scalpel into the soft
flesh of Ingriam’s palm—deeply enough to draw blood—but only a
single drop was spilled before Ingriam’s enhanced healing sealed
the wound closed.
Again, there was not even the slightest
reaction. Dr. Balkus was becoming slightly more confident about
the chances that the improvements would prove to be of use to
the Lords of Chronos. Still, it was always best to be completely
certain of a situation before proceeding. With that in mind, Dr.
Balkus eased Ingriam’s mouth open and pressed the tip of the
surgical tool into the young Zoalord’s tongue, watching
dispassionately as a thin trail of blood trickled deeper into
Ingriam’s mouth.
It seemed that the boy had not become a
Lost Unit after all.
XxXxXxX
Imakarum, reaching out to pull Kenji
closer to him, brushed his hand over the body-warmed sheets
where his son had been sleeping and sat up, glowing golden eyes
sweeping the room while his other senses reached out to locate
his son, just in case Kenji had merely gotten up for a glass of
water or something of that nature. But no—Imakarum could sense
that Kenji wasn’t anywhere in the room anymore.
Levering himself out of bed, Imakarum
performed a light telepathic scan, searching for Kenji’s
distinctive mental presence. Finding his son in Dr. Balkus’
private laboratory again, Imakarum narrowed his eyes—he would
have to speak to the doctor about that, since it was really
getting ridiculous. Picking up his visor and settling it back
over his eyes, something that by now had become a habit for the
Twelfth Zoalord, Imakarum left his room, his long strides
carrying him quickly down the hallway to Balkus’ personal
laboratory. The door was closed, but like all of the Chronos
Overlords, Imakarum possessed the access code. Keying it in,
Imakarum stepped through the door almost before it had finished
opening and saw Kenji sitting on the examination table, seeming
completely unharmed, with Dr. Balkus apparently just finishing
up with him.
"Hey, Dad!" Kenji called, waving once
Imakarum had come into his line of sight. "What are you doing
here?"
"I could ask you that same question,
Kenji-chan," Imakarum said easily, stepping up to the
examination table and placing his hand on Kenji’s chest. "I
think you should get back to bed now," he added as he teleported
them both back to his room.
"All right, dad, but what are you going
to do?" Kenji asked, tilting his head in that childishly curious
way that Imakarum would never get tired of.
"I’m going to have a talk with Dr.
Balkus," Imakarum said, turning away from the bed where his son
now sat and teleporting back to Dr. Balkus’ private laboratory.
Once he was back in Dr. Balkus’
laboratory, Imakarum folded his arms over his chest and regarded
Chronos’ top scientist with a glare that was only partially
hidden behind his opaque black visor.
"What were you doing with my son?"
Imakarum demanded. "This is the fourth time this month that
you’ve called him in here for one of your late-night
examinations. Is there something still wrong with him that
you’re not telling me about?"
"There is nothing wrong with your son,"
Dr. Balkus said calmly. "I was just making completely certain
that the last of Aptom’s invading cells were completely purged."
"While I do appreciate your
thoroughness, Doctor," Imakarum answered, gritting his teeth for
a moment, "I would prefer that in the future you tell me when
you want to see my son for any reason. And for the last time,
stop calling him to your lab at this time of night! He may not
physically be a child anymore, but he still needs his rest."
"There is no more reason for me to
examine your son, Lord Imakarum. As I have told you, all of the
impurities within his body have been purged."
"Good," Imakarum said finally, nodding
and teleporting back to his and Kenji’s shared room.
Once the last of the dimensional
interference had cleared from his vision, Imakarum walked back
to the bed where they had been sleeping. Kenji had already lain
back down by the time Imakarum had made it back to their room,
and Imakarum smiled benevolently down at his son before he
climbed back into bed. Slipping off his visor, Imakarum placed
it back on the table by their bed.
Once Imakarum was back in their shared
bed, Kenji cuddled up to him the way that he always did, and
Imakarum smiled again, more reflectively this time. He might
have had the body of a twenty-five year old man, not to mention
most of the powers of a Zoalord, but Kenji was still Kenji and
still his baby boy.