"Letters"
by Acey
Disclaimer: Mr. Toriyama owns DBZ. I am not Mr. Toriyama, in case you couldn't tell.
Shoutouts:
Kelly Neptunus: You're welcome for updating. Thanks for getting me back into writing this. I probably wouldn't have gotten even this far with this fic without all your encouragement, and that's the truth.
Loony Lovegood: Your penname's neat (poor Luna, people think she's crazy =( )! I don't normally do (or read) OCs either (hector, I have enough problems trying to keep the real characters in character! I can't worry about characters I make up!), but with this fic I had to. I'm glad you liked the character of the Doctor. Most smart people are a tad on the strange side (and she's no exception-- neither am I from what my friends say-- but they're stranger [one of them is trying to pass a Squirrel Liberation Act -_-, but when I tried to convince her of the necessity for a Robot Liberation Act, she said no way], so I'm in good company.). And in response to the questions-- you'll find out in the next few installments, including this one (I can't give it away, wouldn't be fair!).
Apology: This chapter would've been out two days ago were it not for the fact that I kept getting those cruddy "server busy" messages every time I tried to get on ff.net. For all they've said about how they're reducing those messages, they are NOT. -_- I tried a solid twenty times to get on, to no avail. But I bear with the system, no matter how I hate it.
Now, for your enjoyment and entertainment, chapter ten of the acclaimed (eh, what am I saying?) fic "Letters." As always, I hope you like it very much.
There were no more new letters from Gero, a fact that the woman wasn't fully convinced of until she went outside to the mailbox herself, checking around it as well. Only the three old ones remained, and these-- well, these she would be sure to read thoroughly. It could-- it had to-- make a difference.
"Miss?"
The woman silently cursed her cook for her interruptions, well-intended as they were.
"Cook! I told you I am going to stay in the lab today!"
"I thought you'd like some apple cake, Miss. Should I bring it in?"
"No. I'm very busy now. I'll get it later."
'Not even a thank you,' the cook thought, bitter mood returning. 'But when she pays so well, you take what you can get.'
**********************************************************************
My dear _________, February 6, 760
My new experiments with the twins are going quite successfully from a medical standpoint, though I daresay that they will be less than happy about them than I am; the experiments could have some unpleasant consequences if they were expecting to come out of my lab as they came into it. I suspect, however, that they will find that the end more than justifies the means in their cases, should I complete their reprogramming. I fear I probably won't, at least, not any time soon. It's a tedious process, very tedious, and you ought to know that by now.
I tire of merely intimating things to you. It gets a tad boring, even for me, to keep hinting of my plans, a hint here, a more blatant one there, until at last I expect to hear the police car's siren as I write this, but none comes, none comes. I know you were never the type to do any detective work besides trying to figure out how to correct someone's defective gene (and I wouldn't count that if I were you), but I know you can do better than this! You're causing me to lose faith in the intelligence you've displayed for the world to see, and I truly wish you wouldn't. After all, I can admit to you freely now that you were the only person I ever admired, before or since the alma mater, and now that I've told you, it doesn't make a bit of difference. What a pity.
But I keep on, for you. Let's make this game of mine harder. I need a game, a small, daring diversion, what with all the time I will so soon have on my hands (and the twins will have as well, whether they wanted it or merely wanted the money I promised-- they'll need diversions, too). I'll send you only two letters more. You have two letters left to discover where I am and what I'm doing. How's that for an ultimatum? Far different from the old school term papers, isn't it, but the costs of misunderstanding are higher than simply a failing grade and a GPA drop. Two people's lives are at stake-- lives as they are now, at least, and if you lose, dear, billions more will soon follow.
I still believe in you; you'll get it, I know you will. Good luck.
Your old colleague, Doctor Gero
Acey: How's that for an update? =) The best is coming now!
Disclaimer: Mr. Toriyama owns DBZ. I am not Mr. Toriyama, in case you couldn't tell.
Shoutouts:
Kelly Neptunus: You're welcome for updating. Thanks for getting me back into writing this. I probably wouldn't have gotten even this far with this fic without all your encouragement, and that's the truth.
Loony Lovegood: Your penname's neat (poor Luna, people think she's crazy =( )! I don't normally do (or read) OCs either (hector, I have enough problems trying to keep the real characters in character! I can't worry about characters I make up!), but with this fic I had to. I'm glad you liked the character of the Doctor. Most smart people are a tad on the strange side (and she's no exception-- neither am I from what my friends say-- but they're stranger [one of them is trying to pass a Squirrel Liberation Act -_-, but when I tried to convince her of the necessity for a Robot Liberation Act, she said no way], so I'm in good company.). And in response to the questions-- you'll find out in the next few installments, including this one (I can't give it away, wouldn't be fair!).
Apology: This chapter would've been out two days ago were it not for the fact that I kept getting those cruddy "server busy" messages every time I tried to get on ff.net. For all they've said about how they're reducing those messages, they are NOT. -_- I tried a solid twenty times to get on, to no avail. But I bear with the system, no matter how I hate it.
Now, for your enjoyment and entertainment, chapter ten of the acclaimed (eh, what am I saying?) fic "Letters." As always, I hope you like it very much.
There were no more new letters from Gero, a fact that the woman wasn't fully convinced of until she went outside to the mailbox herself, checking around it as well. Only the three old ones remained, and these-- well, these she would be sure to read thoroughly. It could-- it had to-- make a difference.
"Miss?"
The woman silently cursed her cook for her interruptions, well-intended as they were.
"Cook! I told you I am going to stay in the lab today!"
"I thought you'd like some apple cake, Miss. Should I bring it in?"
"No. I'm very busy now. I'll get it later."
'Not even a thank you,' the cook thought, bitter mood returning. 'But when she pays so well, you take what you can get.'
**********************************************************************
My dear _________, February 6, 760
My new experiments with the twins are going quite successfully from a medical standpoint, though I daresay that they will be less than happy about them than I am; the experiments could have some unpleasant consequences if they were expecting to come out of my lab as they came into it. I suspect, however, that they will find that the end more than justifies the means in their cases, should I complete their reprogramming. I fear I probably won't, at least, not any time soon. It's a tedious process, very tedious, and you ought to know that by now.
I tire of merely intimating things to you. It gets a tad boring, even for me, to keep hinting of my plans, a hint here, a more blatant one there, until at last I expect to hear the police car's siren as I write this, but none comes, none comes. I know you were never the type to do any detective work besides trying to figure out how to correct someone's defective gene (and I wouldn't count that if I were you), but I know you can do better than this! You're causing me to lose faith in the intelligence you've displayed for the world to see, and I truly wish you wouldn't. After all, I can admit to you freely now that you were the only person I ever admired, before or since the alma mater, and now that I've told you, it doesn't make a bit of difference. What a pity.
But I keep on, for you. Let's make this game of mine harder. I need a game, a small, daring diversion, what with all the time I will so soon have on my hands (and the twins will have as well, whether they wanted it or merely wanted the money I promised-- they'll need diversions, too). I'll send you only two letters more. You have two letters left to discover where I am and what I'm doing. How's that for an ultimatum? Far different from the old school term papers, isn't it, but the costs of misunderstanding are higher than simply a failing grade and a GPA drop. Two people's lives are at stake-- lives as they are now, at least, and if you lose, dear, billions more will soon follow.
I still believe in you; you'll get it, I know you will. Good luck.
Your old colleague, Doctor Gero
Acey: How's that for an update? =) The best is coming now!