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Wired Bone: Chapter Seven
🕑 Added 2023-06-11 01:32:53 +0000 UTCChapter Seven
There was an abomination against good sense standing outside the window.
Quadruped with wings, it had the head and wings of a pigeon, but the body and grubby paws of a possum, all tied together in grey fur and feathers that reflected the light in greens and purples, with bits of black fur-feathers around its beady black eyes. It was framed by the early morning sun, and would have looked majestic if one ignored the fact that it was filthy disease-carrying vermin.
It was something called a lesser chimera. Also known as trash chimera, vermin chimera and “damned flying rats”.
It and some variations of its kind had been invented by a bored hypercognitive young lady whom the Academy hadn’t managed to catch in time, because she’d been nine at the time.
Apparently, she’d been trying to breed a superior kind of rat to take over its lesser, and had gotten carried away with the other types of vermin available to her experimentation after she got the hand of mixing genomes into “functional” organisms, like the Dark Scientists used to.
Speaking of which, as one might imagine real Chimeras did not care to share a name with vermin, but the term had caught on before anyone could stop it. As if the poor human-animal hybrids hadn’t suffered enough.
Zero watched it as the disgusting thing ate a tick off its own back, picking it out with its little beak. After fluffing its feathers and stretching its legs, the abomination took flight and left the window, leaving Zero bored with nothing to observe once more.
The five of them — Doctor Phan, Zero, and their three opponents — had arrived at the waiting room an hour before the allotted time, twenty-three minutes before. Now, with thirty-seven minutes until the meeting, Zero was left with little to do but observe their opponents once more.
His eyes naturally wandered over to the researcher first. Dressed in a standard-issue white Academy lab coat over a simple white shirt and beige sweater. Beige pants, beige loafers, and if Zero had to guess, beige socks.
Physically, he was as close as a human being could get to embodying the color, too. Bald with an island of fuzzy and short grey hair in the middle of his head and a short crown of it around the base, face covered in wrinkles and liver spots, sunken eyes and an unbrushed moustache. He looked sleep-deprived, boring and kind of gross.
Clearly, Doctor Phan’s inferior in every way. Just like his two test subjects — which was the image of excess and wasted funding, by the way. Who needs two test subjects to show their work? They were clearly failures, like Higgs and Manny — were inferior to Zero.
Zero’s design was sleek, subtle and did not deviate from the perfect human form beyond what was strictly necessary. He clocked in at a decent 1,68m and 70kg, his body was healthy enough as he regularly exercised so as to not shame the good doctor by appearing under- or overweight, and his albino features further improved his refined air, if he said so himself[1].
His head had a few plugs across it, unsymmetrically spread over the relevant sections of his brain, which was only proof of Doctor Phan’s intelligence and diligence.
The other two, sitting in front of Zero and on each side of their researcher, were frankly abominable.
The one on the doctor’s right side was large enough to occupy two chairs, with height to match. His musculature strained against his leathery pale skin, making all his features blocky and grotesque. His hair was long and black, kind of oily-looking as it draped a little past his shoulders.
His counterpart was the exact opposite, so much so that any chance of it being a positive was removed.
They were rail-thin, nothing but skin and bones. Almost as tall as their counterpart, maybe clocking in at a meter and eighty instead of his two meters, the widest part of them was their shoulders. His limbs seemed stretched out, almost, with the arms and fingers being a tad longer than normal.
The fact that the fingertips also ended in bone claws that tore through the gloves he was wearing was another hint that some bio-modding had been carried out on his limbs.
Speaking of which, they clothes were also in direct opposition to each other. The man-mountain (whom Zero mentally catalogued as M2) was wearing a tank top and a red tracksuit with white stripes that strained to contain his body, while the beanpole wore an all-black bodysuit and gloves that covered every inch of skin, plus a sensory deprivation helmet that completely hid their head.
Together, they looked ridiculous. Especially since M2 was staring blankly straight ahead with glassy eyes and a slack jaw, sausage fingers crossed and hands on his lap, while Beanpole was tapping their foot insistently, twitching from time to time in response to some unseen, possibly internal stimuli.
Zero swallowed a scoff. It figured the combat experiments wouldn’t have much going on upstairs. Why did researchers insist upon these bizarre obsessions with carnage? Why couldn’t they be like the good doctor and realize they lived in an age for more cerebral pursuits?
Geniuses were numerous, even discounting cogs. The only problem is that only a few had the resources to study and apply their intellect to what they needed.
The end goal of Doctor Phan’s research was an affordable, simple way to program a mind with new skills. With that, hundreds or maybe thousands of people could instantly know everything they needed, leaving them open to do glorious research and further improve the field of their interest.
The others in Zero’s dorm didn’t get it, but Zero and the doctor both understood. This was the first step to a bright new future for the Academy.
And they had to share a meeting with two combat experiments.
Bah. No matter. The Head Councilman would see the reasonable solution in due time.
Speaking of which, the entrance to the waiting room opened with a modest click, drawing the attention of everyone but the twitchy beanpole, who had looked in that direction a moment ago.
… wait, what? Did he know beforehand? That made no sense, he was wearing a sensory deprivation helmet.
Obviously, his senses were enhanced, but Zero had worn one of those things as part of an experiment once. To actually hear distant noises with it on…
Alright, so maybe they weren’t total failures. Doctor Phan still had this in the bag.
In any case, the door opened and in strode a man.
He was the image of imposition. A wide-shouldered frame with a narrow waist, muscular arms and a manly beard that was short at the cheeks and long at the front, almost the length of his neck. His head was bald and he wore pince-nez glasses connected by a delicate golden chain that went around his neck.
He wore a brown three-piece suit, with a white shirt and a maroon tie snugly tied around his neck. A silver pocket watch poked out of his pocket, the sign of his status within the Council of Hypercognitives. The expression on his face was humorless and severe, with his big furry eyebrows pinched into a frown. And that was before he saw them all sitting in the waiting room, waiting for him.
His eyes went to the cat clock that hung on one wall, the only decoration in the room, and sighed through the nose. Without a word, he walked across the room and opened the door to his office.
He went through and closed the door behind him, leaving them all staring after him.
A while later, he opened the door again and said, “Well?”
Everyone rushed to stand up and follow.
If the waiting room had been grey and spartan, the office was the exact opposite. Multiple books filled the shelves that covered every single wall of the room, leather-bound and paperbacks alike. The shelves were not completely full of books, however, as some space was dedicated to baubles like human skulls or family photographs.
A red rug with yellow patterns decorated the floor in front of the Head Councilman’s desk, occupied by no chairs whatsoever. Lord Valiant, on his own side, sat upon a plus red leather chair upon which he sank. It looked very comfortable.
The five petitioners stood awkwardly while the Head Councilman investigated his desk. It was littered with scattered paperwork, boxes, a crystal orb, some sort of gyrating brass machine that moved constantly and occasionally sparked with electricity and another human skull, this one with the top cut off and a handle attached to the side.
“Generally speaking,” Lord Valiant said in a conversational tone as he sifted through papers, “It’s considered bad form to show up to someone’s office before their secretary can even make an appearance.”
No one replied.
“I’m leaving you space to explain yourselves,” Lord Valiant added, clicking his tongue when he failed to find something. “You may also redeem yourselves by getting me matches.”
M2reached into a pocket and produced a small matchbook, which he offered on an open palm.
“I thought you quit?” said Beanpole.
“They’re for lighting the stove,” rumbled M2.
Zero rolled his eyes as discreetly as possible. For goodness’ sake, their doctor let them smoke? Doctor Phan would never be so permissive with irresponsibility.
The Head Councilman took the matches with a thankful nod, then opened a box to remove a single lancero cigar, plus a stainless-steel cigar chopper. He removed the tip, put the cigar in his mouth and lit the tobacco stick, tossing back the matchbook with a careless gesture.
While this happened, Doctor Phan cleared his throat and said, “Yes, well, I thought it would be best to get here as early as I could manage, since the commute between the Academy and here can be… chaotic, at best.”
“I’m aware.”
“Ah, yes, right, of course you are,” Doctor Phan nodded, cleared his throat then nodded again. Zero had never seen him so nervous.
He went to take his hand, but Phan pulled his hand away at the first contact.
Still, he immediately started talking again, so maybe he drew strength from it to continue explaining, “Doctor Matthews here heard about me leaving early and thought it was a good idea, so we carpooled together.”
“Right, about that,” said Lord Valiant, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke as he turned his attention to the beige researcher. “I have to apologize about mixing our scheduled meeting with Doctor Phan’s here. I’m afraid he was quite insistent on seeing me as soon as possible and could not be dissuaded from waiting. Or meeting another possible sponsor. Or ceasing his calls to my secretary.”
“Oh, um, it’s quite alright,” the beige Doctor Matthews said, waving it off. “I’ve heard that Doctor Phan’s been working on this for quite some time. I’d be excited too if I’d been cracking away at it for half as long as him.”
What a bastard. Who was he, to bring up the time it took Doctor Phan to get results? Zero would’ve liked to see this boring old piece of wasted neurons try to figure out how to insert information and muscle memories into an existing human-standard brain.
He probably wouldn’t have managed to install dancing skills on mice, and Doctor Phan had that down before Zero even existed!
“I’m sure the doctor appreciates your understanding,” Head Councilman Valiant nodded. “Well. Seeing as this is yourmeeting, would you care to introduce your work first? You mentioned this had been in the works for… five years?”
“Um, yes, that is correct,” nodded Matthews. He started wringing his hands. “M-My work, um, I mean, my subject of research, that is, um…”
Doctor Phan and Zero traded amused looks. They had this in the bag.
Lord Valiant looked at Matthews, who was coming apart as his test subjects looked at him in concern (as much as one of them could while wearing a sensory deprivation helmet), and sighed out another cloud of smoke through his nose.
He stood up and leaned forward to look the doctor in the eye.
“Relax,” commanded the Head Councilman, in a manner very unrelaxing. “You’ve been taught to present your work. Remember your lessons. Present your work. You’re a man of science; stage fright does not become you.”
Matthews swallowed heavily, breathed in, breathed out, then nodded.
“F-For the past five years,” Matthews started again, hands at his sides now. “I’ve been working in producing what I’ve taken to naming ‘limit stimulants’.”
Lord Valiant raised an eyebrow, sitting back down on his chair.
“The basic idea was… a chemical component that could safely increase the user’s physical and mental abilities to and perhaps past the limitations of the body.”
“Similar ideas have been explored in the past,” the Head Councilman pointed out. “They tend to be dead ends. Human bodies can only take so much punishment.”
“Yes, o-overuse in a short span of time still has severe consequences. This much is, well, unavoidable, to the best of my understanding,” Matthews admitted, starting to wring his hands again before he stopped himself and just clasped them together behind his back. “But… through dosage control, my limit stimulants can have negligible consequences on the user’s health.”
“Define ‘negligible’,” challenged Lord Valiant.
“Microfractures on bones and minor scarring on musculature for the physical stimulants. Nose bleeds, minor concussions and intense nausea for the mental stimulants,” listed off Matthews, before he paused. “I’m currently working on developing a stimulant that improves and accelerates healing, but… so far, it’s an expensive way to cause cancer.”
“Are the wounds not healed?”
“Well, yes, but only to a limit. On the average person, the cancer treatments would be more expensive than whatever the health stimulant could fix.”
The sad truth was that even after curing cancer, the abnormal cell growth continued to be a thorn in the collective side of humanity and its off-shoots. Removing the offending body part and installing a new one, or getting the manufactured protein injections required to not get cancer in the first place was not cheap, after all.
“It’s good that you’re thinking of the laypeople when developing this,” Lord Valiant praised.
Zero nodded in agreement. Surprisingly novel for someone making weapons, but he and Doctor Phan still had this under lock. The whole point of their experiment was the laypeople.
“Speaking of which,” Lord Valiant continued, “What is the end goal of these stimulants? Who is this for?”
“Well… the Rangers, sir,” explained Matthews. He cleared his throat and swallowed before explaining, “I… my parents both joined the Rangers to pay my tuition at the Academy after I got scouted when I was seven.”
Zero blinked.
Lord Valiant did as well, just slower, before asking, “… are they alive?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. My mother was part of the administrative force, so she mostly stayed away from active combat, except for her early days. She passed away a decade and a half back. My father, however, was part of the Scouting Corps. He passed when I was ten.”
“Ah,” Lord Valiant nodded. “Yes, I… I’ve…”
Zero felt as much at a loss for words as Lord Valiant appeared to be. He hadn’t been expecting such a reasonable justification for researching better ways to fight. He’d always thought of violence as a brutish thing unintelligent people resorted to, like Tetra.
While Zero pondered this, Sir Valiant sighed, inhaled through his cigar, and tried again; saying, “I understand that, when facing loss — even old loss — it’s useless to hear a platitude about how sorry I am, or that the Academy should be free so things like these don’t happen, when I’ve been unable to make it so despite all my power.”
Despite the admission, his face remained placid and stoic.
“Er, well, I wouldn’t want you to apologize in the first place, sir,” said Matthews.
“I see. Despite this, I hope you accept my condolences and my apology.”
“I… yes, sir.”
“Thank you,” nodded Sir Valiant. “Now… where would you say you are, in terms of development? You mentioned a being on the verge of a breakthrough when booking this meeting a month ago. Have you reached it?”
“Yes, sir!” said Matthews. The excitement and nervousness that appeared to have fled him returned to him as he almost vibrated in place while explaining. “To make sure the stimulants were safe for human use, after figuring out their initial composition, I manufactured a hormone gland for each one that produces them naturally, just a bit at a time.”
“And I take it that’s what these young… men?” Sir Valiant hesitated for a bit, looking at Beanpole, then raising an eyebrow at Matthews.
“Axel is male, yes.”
“Right,” Sir Valiant nodded and continued. “That’s what these young men represent? They have the glands?”
“Well, one each and two out of three glands, in any case,” Matthews admitted, a little awkwardly. “I’d also created a subject with the healing stimulant, but I’m afraid Pan… erm… well, there was a point where I simply couldn’t fight all the malignant tumors that started appearing and ravaging her body.”
M2’s head lowered a bit, and Axel twitched a little more violently than usual.
Zero sympathized. Even after only fourteen months of life, he’d gone through the pain of befriending another subject only for them to have a bad reaction to a test. He could only imagine how much worse it would be if you shared a creator with them.
“I understand,” said Sir Valiant. “So? What have been the effects of their modifications? They seem… healthy.”
“They are!” Matthews nodded. “Armstrong here-” he gestured to the Man Mountain, and Zero had the horrible realization that the names of his subjects were all probably puns “-has been modified so that his body produces a small amount of the physical stimulant at all times.”
“Evidently,” muttered Doctor Phan.
“Ah, yes, um,” Matthews seemed to hesitate upon realizing he was presenting his work to more than one person, but he gathered his wits and kept going, “What the physical stimulant does is, in its current dosage, enhance Armstrong’s adrenaline glands and strengthen his muscles while reducing his natural limiters and his capacity for pain. On someone that did not live with this constantly pumping into their body, this would give them a brief period of notable physical strength and speed, variable depending on dosage, of course.”
“Wouldn’t the user harm themselves by using it, if their natural limiters are lowered?”
Matthews smiled and stepped aside, gesturing for Armstrong to explain.
Surprisingly, the giant had a soft, high-pitched and nasal voice. He said, “The damage is fairly minimal, and long-term exposure has made my body tough enough to resist baseline stimulation.”
He talked like he’d memorized each word. His doctor probably didn’t trust him to explain it himself and had prepared a speech for him.
“Implying you’ve had stimulation beyond the baseline?” questioned the Head Councilman.
“Yes,” nodded Armstrong. “The doctor gave us mental triggers for triggering the stimulant glands in our bodies, and we’ve had injections of the more refined product when he was sure it wouldn’t have an adverse effect on us.”
“I see. Any adverse effects to the higher doses?”
“Some strained muscles and microscopic fractures in my bones, but I am tougher than a baseline human,” Armstrong squeaked. “Voluntary trials on hired help have resulted in major fractures and torn ligaments.”
“Unfortunate,” Lord Valiant muttered. “What about Axel?”
Armstrong and Matthews looked at the helmeted subject, then Matthews stepped forward again to explain, “W-Well, as you might have deduced, Axel’s stimulant enhances his sensory capabilities.”
“No kidding.”
The dry comment hung inside a cloud of smoke while Matthews fidgeted, but the researcher recovered and said, “Ah, yes, of course, Head Councilman. Well, um, an unintended side-effect that is really quite convenient is that the sensory stimulant also has some mental effects, and it’s sped up Axel’s reaction speed by a small percentage. Higher doses have granted higher distortion times, but…”
“… but?”
“I’m afraid that long-term exposure has made Axel a bit reticent to communicate with people. Most talking is rather loud even with the helmet on, and because he processes information so fast, communication appears… rather slow to him.”
“Sounds… troubling. Do these long-term effects happen to people not constantly processing these stimulants?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been able to test that, sir. I’d need time and, well, funding for that.”
“Of course,” nodded Lord Valiant. “Your inventions are certainly interesting, Matthews, though I’m cautious about long-term consequences.”
“As you should be, sir.”
“Don’t presume to tell me what I should be.”
Matthew’s mouth clicked when he shut it.
Lord Valiant pulled the cigar out of his mouth and inspected it, before reaching into a drawer and pulling out another human skull missing its top, this one without a handle. He put out the cigar inside the skull-ashtray, and turned to look at Doctor Phan.
“Well then,” he said. “Would you care to let me know just what discovery was so important that it could not wait for its own turn?”
Doctor Phan nodded, eyes burning with determination, and opened his mouth to speak.
Before the first syllable could be uttered, two sharp knocks rang from the wooden door.
“Come in!” called out Lord Valiant, heedless of the tightening of Doctor Phan’s fist.
Zero watched the good doctor’s hand with some wariness, while the others focused on the door opening, allowing a mousy man in, with thinning brown hair and big round glasses perched on top of his long nose.
“Rufus, what’s wrong?” asked Lord Valiant, raising an eyebrow. “We’re in the middle of something, here.”
Rufus, who must’ve been the secretary, nodded and said, “An emergency Council meeting has been called.”
Before Rufus was done saying ‘has’, Lord Valiant was already standing up and walking around the desk, checking his watch as he spoke, “Do you know the reason? Who called the meeting?”
“Lady Guerra, sir. And no, sir, I don’t know.”
“So, it’s probably something actually deserving of consideration, then,” Lord Valiant muttered. “Phan, I’m afraid the meeting will have to be postponed. Speak with Mr. Drom here to arrange for the date, I’ll have to go.”
“B-But sir!” said Doctor Phan, eyes wide with shock. “I haven’t even gotten to-”
“It can wait, doctor,” the Head Councilman replied, already out the door. Doctor Phan and Rufus Drom followed him, Zero followed Doctor Phan and Matthews and his subjects followed the group, so Valiant kept talking. “If Guerra called for this meeting, it’s a matter of Third York’s safety.”
“Y-Yes, of course, I’m sure that’s right, but we had-”
“… Come into someone else’s meeting,” said Lord Valiant, heading out to the hallway outside the waiting room and heading through the labyrinthine halls of the building. “If anything, to make you wait would be more appropriate. With the way you’re behaving right now, I would be well in my right to delay our meeting. If only to grant me the pleasure of not talking to you for longer.”
At that, Zero frowned.
When he’d been heading to this meeting with Doctor Phan and Doctor Matthews, he hadn’t been sure what to expect from the Head Councilman.
The man was like a demigod in Third York’s culture; he was the only son of the one and only Wolfgang Valiant. And he was disrespecting Doctor Phan because the good doctor had been in a rush to present his work? His work was important! Could the man be so blind as to miss that? Did he not understand the implications?!
Zero’s sense of civic obedience warred with his sense of filial loyalty all the way until the parking space. Doctor Phan argued the whole way, while Valiant mostly just ignored him with a casual air, occasionally giving orders for Drom to write down and send messages to certain people.
When they got to the car, a dark blue hovercraft with the flag of Third York painted on the hood, Zero came to a decision and spoke up just as Lord Valiant rested a hand on the door handle.
“S-Sir!” he said, hesitating at the last second but not stopping.
Valiant and Doctor Phan looked at him, the former with curiosity and the latter with frustration. No wonder, with how the Head Councilman was treating him, but Zero was going to fix things.
“I… I think you’re making a mistake by ignoring Doctor Phan!” Zero declared.
“Zero, that’s enough,” said Doctor Phan, putting a hand on his test subject’s shoulder and squeezing slightly.
“No! Your research is important!” said Zero, shocked at his own rebelliousness as he spoke the words but not hesitating as he turned back to Valiant. “Sir, I understand that you have to think of the people first, but Doctor Phan’s research could benefit them all more than you can possibly imagine. Just think of the ramifications!”
“How can I think of the ramifications?” Lord Valiant deadpanned, though he looked more attentive than he’d been a minute ago. “Your doctor wouldn’t even tell me what the experiment is.”
“Wh-?” that was stupid. Surely Doctor Phan wouldn’t do that! “You’re lying!”
Drom twitched a little. Doctor Phan’s grip on Zero’s shoulder tightened enough to be painful.
Lord Valiant snorted, smirked a little and said, “It’s good to have faith, young man. You should aim it more carefully.”
“It’s not faith,” Zero affirmed. “Doctor Phan is the best the Academy has to offer, and you should treat him as such. I’ve had empirical evidence of it. I am empirical evidence of it.”
The Head Councilman’s eyes drifted to the input plugs littering Zero’s skull and snorted lightly, before nodding, “So you are. You really think whatever you’re a prototype for could help people.”
“Absolutely.”
“No hesitation!” Lord Valiant noted, sounding somewhere between faintly amused and begrudgingly impressed. His eyes drifted towards Doctor Phan’s hand and then the doctor’s face, before sighing through his nose. “Alright, get in. Rufus, call the driver and get in, I want you ready to take notes on things.”
Zero blinked, “W-Wait, ‘get in’? As in, in the car?”
“Yes,” said Lord Valiant, already walking around to let Drom open the door for him. Or rather, them. “You can even attend the meeting and decide if it’s still important enough to bother me with after it. It might be good for a laugh. After all is said and done, if you still want to, you can make your case for me.”
“Ah, um, that is…” Zero babbled like a child. Or what he assumed children babbled like, he’d never met one.
Doctor Phan didn’t hesitate. He let go of Zero’s shoulder and got in the car without a look back.
Lord Valiant watched him out of the corner of his eye, then tilted his head to the car at Zero before turning to look at Doctor Matthews and his test subjects.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to make your own way back, doctor,” said the Head Councilman while Zero got in.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I think you’ll find Doctor Phan’s work most interesting,” Matthews assured him.
“Mm. In any case, your work was interesting. Please forward your more detailed notes to Mr. Drom when you have the time; if nothing else, I’ll direct you towards an associate with an opening to sponsor someone.”
“Thank you, Lord Valiant!”
“Don’t mention it.”
With that, Matthews and his subjects left, the Head Councilman got in the car, the driver followed suit, the vehicle lifted up, and the party took to the skies.
[1] Which he did. Often enough that Tetra chucked the nearest blunt object at his head as soon as she heard him start a sentence with the words “my albino features”.
