Last night, there had been a break-in at Tricorp Botanicals, a corporation that Genomex had connections with. It seemed to be in connection with Dark Star, a military organisation who had participated in a mostly failed experiment involving the transfer of genes across species, from plants to humans. This had resulted in, admittedly, the death of the majority of the subjects, but the survivors were showing abilities somewhat akin to the feral branch of the children of Genomex.
I called in its head of operations, Dr Harrison. He agreed quite readily to the meeting.
"I'm concerned, Dr Harrison. This operation was supposed to be tightly contained."
"I completely agree. But it seems Dark Star refuse to lay down and die," Dr Harrison said.
"Well nine of them seem to have complied," I said, pressing a button to show the members of Dark Star with the deceased ones covered with Xs.
"And I'm guessing the three survivors were responsible for the attack on Tricorp last night?"
"Really?" I said, turning to look at Dr Harrison. "And your security branch was unable to drive them off?"
"Security branch? My security team can barely tie their shoelaces," Dr Harrison said. I could almost sympathise. "We're in the agri business, security has never been a major issue. Until now."
"Welcome to my world. I'll assign my staff to take over your security immediately," I said. And Dr Harrison did not protest. Despite his position, the man seemed to be pliant and obedient. He had seemingly been waiting for the Dark Star faction to succumb to the complications of their experimental treatments. The passive approach had admittedly been working so far, but it seemed he needed a little assistance in dealing with the final three stragglers.
Collaborations with other corporations could drastically complicate matters. It would doubtlessly be more work for me, but it was often simpler to take control oneself than to expect others to follow one's orders.
Dr Harrison stood behind me, holding his glasses thoughtfully. "As you can see, the small man is clearly stricken," he commented.
"Yes. The big man, Lieutenant Longstreet is it?" I said, and Dr Harrison nodded. "He looks to be the living incarnation of Nietzsche's dictum." The man looked at me blankly. Sometimes I really had to question the quality of education other people had received. I clarified. "What does not kill you will make you stronger."
Dr Harrison nodded, and put his glasses back on. "We've passed the ninety day mark on the tests. Chances for survival at this point increase exponentially," he said.
"Then I'd say we're on the verge of success."
"I wouldn't go that far. Nine of our twelve test subjects have died," Dr Harrison said.
"We only need one survivor to achieve the results we desire," I said, surprised that a man of science would not also immediately come to the same conclusion. Had he forgotten the spirit of discovery and the importance of pushing the boundaries of science? Why did people have to cry over human test subjects? They didn't care so much about the death of laboratory mice. Although Dr Harrison did seem rather attached to his plants. Perhaps he held funeral rites for the ones who did not make it.
"And assuming that Lieutenant Longstreet does live, all we need is a sample of his DNA to take this to the next step," Dr Harrison said, gracefully turning his opinion to match mine.
"To genetically alter a human being into a new mutant."
Dr Harrison nodded.
"My people should be just about in place to bring Lieutenant Longstreet in for his interview now," I said.
We waited a while. Dr Harrison attempted to make some inane small talk, and I did my best to deter him from continuing. He made some disparaging remark about the weather, and I began to wonder if that stereotype about British people was actually true.
After a while, I grew tired of waiting and we went to see why my men had not reported in. As it turned out, they had failed to bring in Lieutenant Longstreet as instructed, and had instead returned with Corporal Randall, the third surviving member of the experimental group. Correction, formerly surviving member. We stood at the window of the lab, looking in at the body. A sheet covered it.
"Adam gets the living, and we get the dead," I said.
"I'm afraid your GS agents went in with a trifle too much self-confidence," Dr Harrison said
"Which would have been completely justified if not for the annoying presence of Adam's people," I said. That was supposed to be a justification for the poor performance of my team, but I immediately regretted the choice of words. I moved on swiftly before Dr Harrison could pounce on my weakness. "Well at least they were able to return a test specimen to us for further study," I turned away from the window of the lab. "Although I'm far from confident in your ability to bring answers from a corpse." I paced onwards, satisfied with the way I had twisted it around towards his failing.
"I'm afraid you're probably right. Our best hope for a successful resolution to this experiment is a living subject."
"And since only two possible candidates remain alive, I've got my agents scouring the city," I said.
"Our latest data would indicate the woman, Sergeant Dawn, who seems to have been stricken by the same pathological illness that's killed the others."
"Well that means that unless Lieutenant Longstreet survives, you're in a great deal of trouble," I said, walking off and leaving Dr Harrison to contemplate his situation.
Dr Harrison was irritatingly smug about his part in capturing Lieutenant Longstreet along with Shalimar Fox. He had the air of a little boy who had just squashed his first bug. He had simply walked in during yet another break-in at his facility and made a show of giving orders to my men. But the degree of delight that he expressed suggested he felt he had practically made the capture single handed.
But later when I saw him, he was back to his usual nervous looking self. He put me in mind of one of those British politicians I sometimes saw on the television, with all of the wealth but none of the charisma of their American counterparts.
"There's a long-standing tradition in my world of tampering with human nature to create a more perfect soldier. From the hashish of ancient Persia to the Viking Berserkers to MK Ultra, men in my position have sought the perfect way to create the perfect monster in the field," I said to Dr Harrison as we walked into my office.
"And I believe we're getting there," he said.
"This morning, you sounded ready to shout your success from the rooftops, Dr Harrison. Are you having any doubts?"
"I wouldn't call them doubts exactly. Let's just say I have concerns."
I walked over to my computer and switched on the CCTV feed in the lab. "What's his condition?" I asked.
"He's fine," Dr Harrison replied. He spoke a little too quickly and there was a shake in his voice. I turned to look at him in suspicion. "We've sedated him so I can administer a complete examination to find out precisely why what killed the others seems to have thrived in Lieutenant Longstreet." He paced as he spoke, and came to a stop rather too close to me.
"I'm concerned by your concerns, Dr Harrison," I said.
Dr Harrison looked shaken by my comment. "It's… just the scientist in me. It's all about control," he said.
"I will join you in the examination room to observe the procedure," I said, glancing pointedly at his hands, which he was presumptuously resting on the back of my chair. I shot him a glare. He removed the offending hands and moved away.
As I promised, I joined Dr Harrison in the lab. We watched through a window as a group of technicians prepared the subject. "Have you made any progress in learning precisely why Lieutenant Longstreet survived the experiment?" I asked him.
"We're getting there."
"Getting there?"
"We can only move so fast, Mr Eckhart. A sample of blood taken from the late Corporal Randall has proven an invaluable tool. By comparing the two DNA structures we've managed to isolate the precise strand of genetic material responsible for Lieutenant Longstreet's longevity."
"Fascinating," I said, as we went through the door to the lab itself. "Then it's true, most great medical advancements point to pathology."
"Well, we'll soon find out. I believe that with the Rafflesia pricei we've got on hand, we will be able to start the next phase of the operation."
"If you are correct, we are on the verge of creating new mutants."
"Obedient and subservient new mutants, completely at the service of your will!"
"Enough to conceivably make the children of Genomex unnecessary in the greater scheme of things," I said.
I watched Dr Harrison perform the procedure on Lieutenant Longstreet, and when he was done, I went for a closer look at the patient.
"Now this may surprise you, Dr Harrison, but I am not a particularly optimistic man," I said. "That said, I have to admit the work you have done here gives me hope for a brighter future."
"Thank you Mr Eckhart, that's awfully kind," Dr Harrison said. "To complete our research on this subject, I'll inject him with a drug that will permanently paralyse his brain function." He was already preparing the equipment.
"Is that really necessary?" I asked.
"I'm afraid so. There's no telling how strong his mutant abilities have become," Dr Harrison said, moving the device closer to his patient's arm.
It all happened so fast. I had no time to react. Somehow the man was awake and had sprung up from the operating table. He had me in a headlock and the injection Dr Harrison had prepared in his other hand, pointing towards me.
"You look a little bit sleepy. Maybe it's time for you to take a nap," Lieutenant Longstreet said, uncomfortably close.
"Now let's not do anything rash," I said, pulling at his arm with all my strength. It was like trying to move a steel bar.
Had the patient been awake and listening to us the whole time? Then why had he chosen to attack me and not Dr Harrison? He was the one intent on turning him into a brain-dead zombie. I should have forbidden the doctor from doing that. Stasis would have been a more agreeable and less permanent solution. But it was too late now. The only question that remained was if he would crush my cervical spine before halting my brain function. The shot of adrenaline from the shock of being grabbed was waning, and I felt a terrible pain.
"This is how we're going to play this. We start by showing a deceased soldier some respect," he said. I felt the pressure of the needle against my skin. He would need to press a little harder to penetrate my exo-skin, but I could sense the end coming for me. There was nothing I could do. All my incomplete intentions, all my regrets, they amounted to nothing now. Some agency would arrange for me to be quietly buried. Would my family be informed? Would they care? Those things were beyond my control. I shut my eyes.
"Beau!" a voice called out. It was a voice I recognised, but not one I could immediately place. "You don't want to do this."
"Why? There's nothing to go on for."
"It's not true." My eyes flickered open, and I caught a glimpse of Shalimar Fox. How was she here? Oh, of course, she had been brought in along with Lieutenant Longstreet. And of course, she had not been adequately restrained. If not for my inability to breathe, and the excruciating pain, I would have laughed.
"My squad is gone," the man said.
"That's not true. You've got a new squad now, a new pack."
I could feel the grip slowly decreasing, and I crumpled to the floor. I felt the impact, and then unconsciousness claimed me.
I looked out of the window of my office. It had been tempting to simply instruct someone else to deal with Dr Harrison, but I felt that the immense pain was justified in this situation. Drugs could knock the pain down from an unbearable level, but I could only take so many while remaining awake and able to speak coherently. A neck brace prevented me from causing further damage from movement, but it was far from comfortable. I was lucky, I supposed, that I had survived the ordeal.
"As I said, Dr Harrison, I am not by nature an optimistic man. The reason is simply that I cannot bear the disappointment that is so frequently the result of heightened expectations." I turned around carefully, and sat down. "I have always subscribed to the adage hope for the best and expect the worst."
"I understand that, Mr Eckhart. I also understand the trauma of your, um, experience yesterday along with the loss of Lieutenant Longstreet must be very difficult to accommodate. But we still have the Rafflesia pricei."
"Is that right?"
Dr Harrison nodded.
"I gather you haven't checked in at your office this morning."
"No. I came directly here," Dr Harrison said, as if he expected me praise him for this.
"And you haven't heard about the security breach last night," I said, internally wincing as the pain making its presence known once again.
On cue, one of my staff came in with a bowl containing the sad remains of Dr Harrison's poorly guarded rare plant.
"Preliminary laboratory analysis indicates that the last specimen was destroyed by an application of high voltage electricity. It's most likely the work of Brennan Mulwray. He's one of Adam's people."
Dr Harrison stepped towards the specimen to take a better look. "Perhaps we could accelerate the growth rate. Take some time off that twenty-five years."
"Who knows where I'll be in twenty-five years? But I'll have a good idea where you'll be," I said.
Two of my security staff stepped into my office, and Dr Harrison meekly allowed them to escort him out. When I was alone again, I smiled to myself, even though it hurt. My pessimistic assumption that the Genomex collaboration with Tricorp Botanicals would fail had turned out to be accurate. It was a small one, but it was a consolation prize no less.
My recovery would no doubt be long and slow, complicated by my existing conditions. But pain, discomfort and restrictive schedules had already been my daily companions for many years. At least I had now removed the thorn in my side that was Dr Harrison. I could now assume full control of Tricorp and see what experiments, equipment and staff were salvageable.