Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Play Me Some More of that Old Blues ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

 

Chapter 8

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She was awake.

 

Faye sat up, immeasurably ecstatic to discover she wasn't strapped down. As she looked around, she frowned. Nope, not strapped down, just locked in.

 

“Well, shit.” She muttered, standing wobbly to explore her cell. At least it was a fairly well furnished cell, complete with a reading desk and a few books. Faye lifted a volume, not to check the title, but to see if it was heavy enough to use as a weapon. Slipping the soft-cover back on the shelf, she continued her exploration. When she reached the door of her room, she pressed her ear against the side, hoping to hear anything to indicate where she was. No use, it was either soundproofed, or whatever guards they had out there were really quiet. There was a curtained off area that revealed itself to be a small bathroom. Only the bare necessities were available.

 

As Faye returned to sit on the edge of her bed, she rubbed a sore spot on her arm. Examining the injury, she found a small row of puncture marks just below her left elbow.

 

“Great, I look like a junkie.”

 

A sudden wave of dizziness caught her off guard, and she dropped her head to her hands until the vertigo subsided. Then she clenched her teeth. Faye Valentine was not one to sit idly by while her life was taken out of her control. Standing up again, she returned to the door, hands fisted at her sides.

 

“Hey! Hey you assholes, open up! Let me out of here!!!”

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From another part of the facility, Andrew Mathis studied the woman on a small screen. She was screaming again. Had to admire her, she hadn't broken down yet. Dr. Wilde had not been pleased when they'd removed her from his care. Unfortunately, with him losing the other subject, he couldn't be trusted to look after their gold mine. Mathis frowned. He was pretty sure that Subject B hadn't died as simply as Wilde explained in his report. Wilde had a soft spot for his patients; there was no denying it. But he couldn't possibly be stupid enough to risk all their work… Mathis shook his head. Right now, he couldn't be certain about anything.

 

Wilde would bear watching.

 

In the meantime, Mr. Caulder had requested, firmly, that Mathis acquire an update on the new sample. With their viable sources reduced to one living, and two deceased subjects, there was even greater risk to their project. They just couldn't afford any screw-ups at this point. Mr. Caulder had made their situation very clear while Mathis had been with him in the briefing room. If this failed, there was nothing left that they could try.

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The door slid open without a sound. The room was muted, like usual, and Wilde sat at his desk, calmly studying a computer simulation.

 

“You ever take a break?”

 

Dr. Wilde jumped at the sudden speech, sitting up to brush his hair out of his eyes sheepishly. “I, uh, guess I was too distracted. Not like I'm tired anyway.” He said, stifling a yawn. Mathis glared at him. “Damn right, we can't afford to have you fucking around! This is game time buddy, what have you got for me?”

 

Wilde shot an irritated look at Mathis before shifting his shoulders and returning to the screen in front of him. “Well, so far so good. It's been twenty-four hours, and the nano-machines are continuing to divide. In fact, I was just going to call you down here, something really interesting happened a minute ago.” Mathis bent over the display as Wilde punched a few buttons. Half a second later, a smaller screen popped up. It was the same as what was displayed on the larger screen; tiny machines trundling through a landscape of hemoglobin. Then Mathis grunted, peering closer. “Did that just…. Back that up, I want to see it again.” Wilde complied, a small grin on his face. The screen jagged, then steadied to run the recording once more. There they were, floating around like little insects…. “There, freeze that.” Wilde hit the still button, and instantly froze the image.

 

“I want a copy of this, as well as a copy of the recording.”

 

Wilde nodded. “You got it.” As he made the duplicates, he glanced up at Mathis, who was still staring at the viewer, mesmerized. “Sir, about Subject C…”

 

“She's out of your hands for now. If you need anything more from her, we'll supply you with access.” Mathis straightened, running a hand down his tie. “Just be glad you're as talented as you are, Dr. Wilde. I'd hate to have to find a replacement with your qualifications.” Taking the reproductions from Wilde's hands, Mathis began to leave. At the door, he paused, not turning around. “If I were you, I'd spend my time worrying about how to keep impressing Mr. Caulder.” Then he was gone. Dr. Wilde waved his hand in front of his face, disgusted by the lingering scent of cologne and aftershave left behind. Leaning back in his seat, he allowed Mathis's parting comments to run through his head. And not for the first time, he found himself questioning whether the opportunity to study such a fascinating breakthrough, was worth risking his life.

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Richard Caulder was a wealthy man. By the age of twenty-five, he had managed to rise through the ranks of Mechatronics Incorporated to become one of three partners in the multi-billion dollar company. At thirty-two, he was voted vice-chairman, and at thirty-nine, he took over the entire corporation. He had held that same position now for the past nineteen years. His first step, before he'd even become fully settled as CEO, was to set up a partnership with another corporation with similar goals; Cherious Medical. Together, they had begun radical new research into alternative medicine. The President of Cherious had believed the work to be valuable from the standpoint of saving lives. It was Caulder that convinced him it would be of great benefit to the military.

 

And then they'd discovered the nano-machines.

 

Cherious Medical had wanted to pull out then, but the military stepped in, and insisted the research continue. Caulder had been a strong voice as well, easing nerves and soothing bruised egos. With some reservation, the project went ahead. Three subjects were chosen, initially, for implantation. It was during the early stages of the Titan war, and many soldiers were knowingly, and unknowingly, being experimented on with a variety of drugs and mind-altering devices. The partnership of Cherious and Mechatronics had been behind every procedure that took place.

 

Two of the subjects responded to the insertion of nano-machines as planned. Unfortunately, one of them, a man by the name of Viggo Devlan, became psychotic and tried to attack his commanding officer. The fool, reacting out of fear, had shot Devlan in the head. His body had been left to rot on that wreck of a moon.

 

It was right after the war that Cherious Medical decided to dissolve their partnership with Mechatronics. They had been frightened by the results of the testing that took place. There were too many soldiers who had returned from the war with knowledge of what had been done to them. Even worse, a number of the men became members of high-ranking syndicates. When news came out that a member of the Red Dragon syndicate had been irreversibly altered by one of the procedures, Cherious couldn't distance itself from Caulder fast enough.

 

After the breakup of the companies, the true agony of that separation began to show itself. A war to rival the one on Titan broke out between the two. The core of the battle was deciding who owned which discoveries, personnel, hardware, software, etc.

 

The worst blow, however, came when Cherious Medical demanded all rights to the nano technology; technology they wouldn't have had without Mechatronics. In the end, Cherious won the rights, and the military contract that went with it.

 

It seemed that with this final hit, Mechatronics would fold completely. However, it hadn't gotten where it was with a defeatist attitude. Richard Caulder had poured every last cent he had into saving his company. After several years of hunger, the company slowly began to recover. In a few years, they rebuilt much of the customer base, and earned a number of lucrative contracts. Once the company was stabilized, Caulder made another startling announcement. Having learned from his mistakes, he made the decision to relocate his entire research department to a distant, and secret, location. He hadn't made the decision lightly. This sort of separation could easily have disastrous effects. However, he'd lost valuable technology by being careless in the past, and he had no intention of making the same mistake twice.

 

Ultimately, he'd moved the operation to Pandora, a small moon orbiting Saturn. Pandora had been a difficult choice. Though it was terraformed, it was still a harsh place to live. The days were short, and the distance from the sun left the planet cold. Without the protection of the atmospheric shield, the moon would have been out of the question. As it was, it seemed fairly hospitable at first glance. The habitable area was small, but fairly well supplied. There were shops, homes, and even a few tiny parks. Never the less, when night fell, nobody remained on the streets. Because of its distance from the more popular moons and planets, the ISSP never patrolled Pandora. A plethora of criminals and fugitives had made their homes here amidst the few civilized people crazy enough to choose to settle among them.

 

Crime was a constant.

 

Because of the reputation it earned in so short a time, the military had, finally, stepped in. All traffic to and from the moon was highly restricted. Only those with a special pass could hope to land on or leave Pandora. Richard Caulder was one of those people. For six years he worked on Pandora, creating the perfect research lab with the best possible equipment and personnel money could buy. He'd been particularly delighted to acquire the brilliant researcher Christopher Wilde, whose work had been published in a number of scientific journals. Caulder had lost no time in wooing him to work for him. It was just in time too. Six months after hiring Wilde, Vincent Volaju had reappeared among the living. Caulder had been rabid to bring him in. He'd even hired someone to get close to him, to act as a contact. Unfortunately, the guy had blown his cover somehow, and Vincent had stuck a knife into him. As if things weren't complicated enough, Cherious Medical decided they wanted to protect their investment. Their real motivation was to keep Vincent out of the grasp of Mechatronics. However, this time, they lost. When Vincent died with a bullet in his chest, Caulder's people had been right there to scoop him up. For months, the researchers, Wilde in particular, had tried to re-animate the nano-machine's in Vincent's blood…. without success. When they acquired Electra Ovilo, they tried again, and failed again. Wilde insisted they needed a living subject. Caulder knew about Spike Spiegel's interaction with Vincent. He knew he'd been infected, and that he'd been cured by exposure to an antidote created from Electra's blood. They'd kept an eye on Spiegel from that time on.

 

Not many months later, Spiegel had made his move on the Red Dragons. When they brought him in, shot, stabbed, covered in blood…. and still breathing, Caulder knew.

 

They'd begun testing immediately.

 

Caulder rubbed a weathered hand over his face. Revisiting the past had a purpose; it reminded you of what you'd accomplished… but it also reminded you of what you'd lost. He'd intentionally kept his mind on only the work. Now, though, he allowed another memory to surface. Soft, pink skin, fine dark hair, flashing eyes. An ache built in his chest, and he had to bite down on his knuckle to suppress the sob that tried to tear itself free from him. His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sting. In a moment, the worst pain subsided. Taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he dabbed at the corners of his eyes, erasing the visual testimony to his emotions. Why was it the memories that were most important to him were also the ones he found the hardest to dwell on? Another wild memory skipped across his mind.

 

He was holding a hand, tiny, yet perfectly formed. His steps were slow, to allow his traveling companion to keep pace with him. Then, the hands reached up, begging. Richard bent to the little person, lifting him in his arms. The tiny hands patted his cheeks joyously, chubby fingers spread wide. Grey eyes sparkled with joy, and a little mouth spread wide to laugh. Four teeth had made their homes in pink gums. A fifth was showing, but hadn't come in quite yet. Richard held the child close, inhaling the fresh-washed smell of his baby skin. “Do you know how much your Daddy loves you Ethan?” The child simply giggled, waving his arms as he was spun in the air…

 

Setting his face, Mr. Caulder tucked his handkerchief back in his pocket. Returning the memories to their proper files, he walked from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

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