As Gyou made his way deeper into the
disused and mostly abandoned laboratory, he removed the disk
from his pocket. Doctors Halverson and Sanderson were both
standing by the processing-tank that held Murakami’s son in his
stasis sleep, and Gyou wondered for a moment just why they were
together in this place. The two scientists noticed him then and
both nodded respectfully.
"Commander Gyou," Dr. Sanderson turned
to him. "Ed says that you’re the one who designed this young
man’s Zoalord body. I don’t want to sound presumptuous,
Commander, but would you like me to take a look at what you’ve
done? Just to see if there are any improvements that could be
made?"
Gyou narrowed his eyes slightly,
thinking over what the man had said. Apparently he was very
intimidating when he was in this pose, judging by the way that
Dr. Sanderson held up his hands. And also by the next words out
of the man’s mouth.
"I didn’t mean anything by that,
Commander," Dr. Sanderson said, sounding more than a little
frantic. "I was only saying that since you had never designed a
Zoalord before, you might need…"
Gyou glared at the man as he trailed
off. While it was a fact that he had never before done any work
of this kind, it was also very aggravating to be questioned this
way by one of his own underlings. Dr. Halverson at least seemed
to have the sense not to say anything, and Gyou was pleased to
note that he at least had some discretion.
"Doctor," Gyou said, turning to face Dr.
Halverson and dismissing Sanderson from his thoughts. "Do you
have anything to add to this conversation?"
"No, sir," Dr. Halverson shook his head
with finality.
Gyou nodded, again feeling satisfied
that Dr. Halverson at least knew his place. Handing the disk to
Dr. Halverson wordlessly, Gyou turned and left.
Once he was gone, Sanderson slowly let
out the breath he’d been holding.
"You really shouldn’t have said that to
him, Simon," Halverson said to his fellow processing technician.
"You know how touchy he can get about things like that."
"I know, I’m sorry. I forgot," Sanderson
said, still looking at the spot where Commander Gyou had been
standing. "I just hope that he won’t hold it against me for that
long."
"Well, you and I both know how the
Commander can be about these kinds of things," Halverson said,
as he inserted the disk into the computer terminal. "Still, if
you want to assist me, I’d be happy to have the help."
"Thank you. I’d be happy to assist you,"
Sanderson said as he stepped over to the console.
With the two of them standing
side-by-side at the console it was a bit more crowded than
Halverson would have preferred, but it was really the only way
that they were both going to be able to see just what was on the
disk that Commander Gyou had presented to them. The genetic code
for the child’s Zoalord body showed up on the small screen of
the console and both scientists began looking it over. It turned
out to be a very well thought out design, especially for someone
who had admitted that he had never designed a Zoalord before.
To someone who had worked on the
Proto-Zoalord project in Arizona, this particular design would
seem very familiar indeed. But then, neither of them had been
with that particular subset of Chronos’ scientific division.
Aside from that, most of the scientists who had worked with
Prof. Yamamura on that particular project had been executed for
collaborating with a traitor. Those few that had survived were
cut off from their supply of antidote.
They had then been interrogated by some
of Dr. Balkus’ own loyal staff. Drs. Halverson, Sanderson and
Henderson had all heard vague stories about the ‘Arizona
Incident’, as it had been called. But really nothing beyond
rumors and hearsay had reached them, and none of the scientists
had been at all interested in learning the true story. They were
processing technicians, not investigators, and things like
attempted insurrections and sabotage really weren’t within their
purview.
The development of this child’s Zoalord
body, however, was certainly something that both of them could
take an interest in. There were some very minor flaws in the
DNA, not all that important but Halverson dealt with them
anyway, more out of a liking for perfection than any real sense
of urgency. Sanderson checked over the work of his fellow
processing technician without having to be told. Thoroughness
and efficiency being the mark of such men, after all.
Once they were done with that job,
Sanderson stepped away from the console at a look from
Halverson. Designing the retro-virus was work best done by one
person. Halverson’s hands practically flew over the console, his
typing speed developed over long years of the same. Sanderson
watched appreciatively, since he had never really managed to
develop the kind of speed that he had seen Halverson demonstrate
on a fairly regular basis.
As Halverson completed the work on
the Zoalord retro-virus and started feeding it into the
processing-tank, he considered what he was feeling about this
particular project. It wasn’t really anything at this point, but
there was still the sense that he should be feeling at least
something.
Remorse at least, if not outright guilt. But he felt nothing,
and still Halverson felt that he should be feeling… well,
anything really.
But he knew the stories; stories of what
happened to the people who had let their conscience get in the
way of their work. People who had stupidly tried to betray
Chronos for some so-called higher cause. The things that had
happened to those people didn’t really bear thinking about. At
least Halverson could take some comfort in the fact that he
wasn’t one of those stupidly idealistic types; the ones that
never lasted long in the outside world.
To say nothing of their survival
rate inside Chronos itself. Looking back at the boy in the
processing-tank, Halverson made up his mind not to entertain any
more of those pointless thoughts. If he felt nothing about what
he was doing, then he simply felt nothing. Ethics be damned.
Halverson had seen too much, and knew the dangers too well, to
let himself be drawn into a debate about the morality of genetic
engineering. Even if it was
just with himself.
Now that the retro-virus had had a
chance to fully mix with the processing fluid, Dr. Halverson
settled back to watch the changes. These would of course be more
dramatic than those that the boy had gone through when Halverson
had merely aged his body.