“As a test, we pierced his heart in several places, and burned out about ninety percent of his lungs. His enhanced body repaired everything, actually growing back the tissue and even whole organs to a state better than when we began the experiment.”
Amir’s bladder finally forced him away from the mirror and he threw back his head and sighed loudly with relief as he used the toilet.
Claire rolled her eyes. “His external physiology is greatly enhanced; however his hormone levels are significantly elevated to a point where they pose a danger. His aggression is worse. We’ve had to drug him several times to selectively blank his memory to keep him unaware of the pain of the experiments. Each time we memory wipe, it seems to exacerbate his anger and he loses more control of his emotions. Like the test subjects we’ve lost, he is wildly out of balance. We’ve had to euthanize our previous subjects when they reached this point. He’ll probably revert to base emotions and lose all intelligence. We’ll have to take similar steps to eliminate him if that happens, of course.”
Faust took a deep breath and closed his eyes so he could sort out his thoughts. Finally, he said, “We are so close. I had hoped he’d survive the process without this hormonal imbalance. This reversion to low-level intelligence could render this whole project moot. We must figure out how to ensure the subjects have conscious control of their enhancements and don’t lose themselves in the complex rewiring of the brain. Elizabeth?”
Too late to stop himself, Faust realized the desperation in his voice had drawn Claire’s attention, and she turned toward him. She looked at him with concern. He knew he’d been increasingly hard to deal with lately, and his decisions had been non-inclusive. He’d tried to hide his growing internal torment, but apparently Claire had noticed.
He turned away from Claire and saw Elizabeth bite her lip before saying, “It appears the sudden surge in hormones leads to a loss of conscious control. The brain responds by wiring even more connections, which results in increasing hormone levels, creating a feedback loop. He lacks any control over this deterioration, which is why we need to work out how to provide conscious control. The cycle escalates quickly, and the subject soon becomes nothing more than a purely emotional creature, losing all ability to critically think or be governed by logic. Specifically, one filled with anger and rage. I am completely at a loss to explain a mechanism to limit this. Conscious emotional control will be the key here and should be where our research focuses. The technological improvements required will be vast—at least as complex as what we’ve already tackled.”
Faust hated the truth of Elizabeth’s statement and he tried not to scowl. Her statement happened to be technically correct and this obstacle was a major source of his internal strife. The failures and madness their work had caused might be true, but he had a plan to deal with this issue. Conscious emotional control was the key. The problem was, he didn’t have the luxury of time to be delicate about finding the answer.
With a familiar gesture, Claire put a hand on his arm and he felt a twinge of guilt. He glanced at her and the concern on her face made him realize she recognized the anguish he felt. Her brow creased in a worried frown that Faust recognized all too well, for they’d been lovers at one time.
Amir finished urinating as Faust observed him through the one-way mirror. Amir took a moment to marvel at his physique once again, touching his finely chiseled abs and running his hand over his well-developed chest before he reached for the robe one robot held out. The two robots then allowed him to dress. After he’d put the robe back on, they secured his arms once more. This time, he hardly seemed to mind. Amir exited the restroom and strode back to them.
Dr. Reprate spoke up again. “We also broke most of his bones. They’ve all knitted nicely and are in the process of returning to their original condition, free of the bulging or restrictions normally accompanying healed bones. It’s really quite more than we’d hoped for.”
Amir had overheard Dr. Reprate. “What’s more than you hoped for?” he demanded.
Faust felt excitement boiling up inside of him. “Why, you are, Mr. Amir. Don’t you think?”
Amir grinned, his face cocked to the side as if uncertain. “What’s going on? Not that I’m complaining, doc. I look like I’ve been put in another body. I didn’t even look this good at twenty-five. I can barely tell it’s me. I mean, Jesus! These muscles are insane.”
“Indeed. I trust you are pleased with the outcome?” Without waiting for a reply, he said, “You did agree to the experiments, Hans. We have all the proper waivers and signed paperwork.” He produced a copy of the waiver from his coat, showing that Amir had clearly signed at the bottom.
Amir barely glanced at the papers.
Faust put the document back in his lab coat.
“I . . . I think I am,” said Amir. “Pleased, that is. I mean, holy shit! I look like Superman. And whichever one of you gave me my new piece down here, I sure hope it works. I can’t wait to try it out.”
Clearly revolted, Doctor Reprate scrunched his face at the crudeness, but Elizabeth laughed, her voice rich. “Yes, Mr. Amir. Your equipment is fully functional. I think you will find your, uh, ‘new piece’ works better than when you were a teenager. I got a bit over-enthusiastic about the part regarding your external reproductive anatomy, I’m afraid. I’ve programmed your nannies to restore your vigor rather rapidly, which means you can achieve orgasm roughly once every twenty minutes, indefinitely, assuming you have enough bio-available material.” She nodded and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It’s quite an improvement. You will quickly become dehydrated and will need to make sure you consume enough nutrients to keep the pleasure centers of your brain supplied, along with your male anatomy and muscles, but your body is now capable of a lot more sex than the normal human male.”
Amir grinned at her, giving her a boldly appraising look that annoyed Faust.
Before Amir could say anything, Faust spoke to cut off what Amir clearly wanted to voice. “I have something else,” he said, addressing his colleagues. “As you all know, we have one vital piece of information to verify. I’ve brought you here so we could learn of the results of our experiment together. Shall we?” He motioned Amir to the table once again. “If you would, Hans, please have a seat. I need some tissue samples for this level of detail, I’m afraid. We cannot trust the analysis of the nannies for this precise information.”
Amir frowned, looking at the table. The robots had not let go of his wrists. “Are you going to tie me back up?” He seemed on the verge of another outburst.
Faust felt his jaw clench. “No, no. Please be calm, Mr. Amir. Remember, you are not wholly yourself and your emotions are not entirely under your control. We will allow you to remain unfettered for this test, only restrained by the robots, if you will promise to stay calm.” He turned to Elizabeth and Claire. “We really should have fixed this hormonal issue before now, doctors. I’m a bit disappointed in you.” He intentionally raised an eyebrow. Seeing their looks, he felt a surge of enjoyment at their discomfort. “Obviously, Mr. Amir is deteriorating emotionally, and this level of chemical cocktail is unsustainable. These repeated failures of yours with all the subjects are hindering the project.”
Both Claire’s face and Elizabeth’s face turned red at his criticism, but he pretended not to notice as he swept by them and joined the robots at the table. He needed the other doctors off guard. Reprate was stuttering more than usual, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence.
Amir finally moved, nearly strutting as he walked to the table and sat down. His gown fluttered open. He grinned at the women, not bothering to close it when the robots finally released his wrists. He even moved one leg to give them a better view.
Both women ignored him. Dr. Reprate occupied himself with examining his lab coat.
Faust motioned to the robots, silently communicating his prearranged commands. “Now then, please remain still while we take samples of your blood, marrow, and spinal fluid. This might be painful, Hans. Woul
d you like us to sedate you?”
“No!”
Faust watched Amir struggle to remain calm.
“No. I’m fine. What about the bone marrow?” He grunted stupidly. “That’s all the way to the bone, isn’t it? And my spinal fluid? It’s going to be one hell of a needle.”
Barely able to restrain his eagerness, Faust said, “Yes, well, it is for science, so I hope a little needle doesn’t scare you. Your body will heal itself within moments. Sure, it will hurt, but the pain will be brief. Rapid healing is part of what we’ve accomplished in our experiments with you. A benefit, if you will.”
Elizabeth started to object, her voice reflecting her confusion. “We don’t really need to—”
Faust cut her off. “Nonsense. I don’t trust the nannite analysis for everything. Don’t become dependent on one technology. Sometimes we must verify with direct observation.” He examined the oversized needle.
The other doctors looked confused about the entirely unnecessary process. Claire, especially, appeared be increasingly concerned, so he avoided eye contact with her as much as possible.
“What measurements, Doctor Faust?” said Claire. “Perhaps we are misunderstanding.”
He merely glanced at them with a dismissive expression that they collectively chose not to challenge.
Amir seemed to have forgotten the mention of a needle. He examined the muscles of his arms. He shook his head in disbelief. “This is crazy. I feel like a young man. I look like one, too.” He looked up and leered at the women, who continued to ignore him and didn’t balk when the two robots who had been holding him proceeded to place needles in both of his arms, ostensibly drawing blood. Faust had programmed them to instead flood Amir’s system with the drug cocktail they’d used to bring him to this point. This time, relatively vast quantities were pumped into his system. Faust watched as the third robot moved and then stood poised behind Amir with the needle.
“All right,” said Faust, trying to suppress the eagerness in his voice, “we are ready to extract the spinal fluid and marrow samples. As I said, this will be painful, Mr. Amir, but the pain will pass quickly as you heal.”
Faust felt another wave of excitement as the robot prepared to insert the needle into Amir’s spine. He signaled, and the robot moved in response.
Amir screamed.
Although Amir’s arms were held in the vice grip of the other two robots, he didn’t even try to move. With uncharacteristic control, which surprised Faust, he held still, muscles bulging. The robot’s actions only lasted a moment, then Amir leaned forward, panting. A moment later, he straightened.
“That fucking hurt! Goddamn it.” Amir shook his head, his sweaty hair sticking to his deep brows. “But the pain is gone now.” He took a deep breath. “I feel fine. Even the puncture seems to have stopped hurting.”
His voice had become more graveled and had dropped in tone. He continued to stare at the women, his previous expression of lust changing to something darker.
Amir’s musculature increased before Faust’s eyes, his brow becoming noticeably deeper than when they’d all entered the room. Faust knew Amir’s body was adapting to external stimulus quickly, and the result of that adaptation would mean a degraded and unstable mental state.
Still working through his plan, Faust mopped his brow. He waited while the lab equipment quickly and efficiently evaluated the samples and provided the requested results. Faust took a deep breath to calm himself and began looking through the amplification equipment which then projected the data onto the screen. When the lab readout began to appear with the expected results, Faust whooped in triumph. He motioned for the other doctors to join him so they could observe the data being displayed. “It worked!” He didn’t have to fake his delight. His next actions hinged entirely on these results.
Several readouts showed Amir’s reparative levels to be at the ideal ranges. The biggest source of astonishment was the DNA and genetic analysis readout from all the samples. There were several gasps.
“This can’t be right, Carlisle,” Claire Ashcraft said. “You didn’t tell us you were working on this!” She stepped closer, staring at the screen in disbelief.
Faust, having known this would throw them off guard, laughed. “How could I have told any of you? Don’t be absurd. If I’d have told you, I’m sure the enormity of my discovery and all the details would have leaked to the public. I don’t have to worry about Dr. Reprate, since he can barely talk half the time, but you two ladies gossip more than a flock of geese and I can’t have this information getting out.”
Faust waited as Dr. Reprate slowly analyzed the data, clearly unable to believe his findings. His obvious shock was a source of amusement. After a moment, Dr. Reprate finally said, “Oh my gosh! He’s effectively immortal!”
God, Reprate had a shrill voice. Faust wanted to clasp his hands over Reprate’s mouth, smothering him simply to stop the annoying noise.
Reprate continued. “This . . . this is . . . I mean, look at the analysis. If the comparisons from throughout the experiments are correct, the telomeres are completely repaired. The DNA is dividing as if it were cancer, but without the mutations. The senescent cell levels are almost gone. Increased stem cell counts. Wow. So many obstacles, gone. He could live to be a thousand!” He calmed slightly, his voice dropping to its normal wheezing tone. “Are these cellular and genetic changes systemic? Or am I looking at an aspect of gene editing that is isolated?”
“Yes. The changes are systemic. This is what I’ve been working on. Immortality! And you thought I had shirked my part of the research.” Faust allowed the disdain he felt to come out in his voice. What idiots. And how dare they sneer at him behind his back? “You all thought I hadn’t been doing my part.”
There were several protests, which he cut off with a shout. Pent-up anger and disgust suddenly rose to the surface. He could barely stand to look at them. “I know you discounted my work! Well, now I have shown you, once again, I’m a far more capable researcher than all of you combined.” He raised a hand to cut off their objections. He had no desire to hear them anymore. “You have all been helpful, of course. This is exactly what I wanted, and I’d feared I’d have to step in to complete gaps in your research, which would have slowed my own. Some of you are horribly incompetent. When did you actually plan to fix the lack of hormonal control? Never, apparently. But now I have the missing piece. I’ve done it, achieved the methods we need to secure immortality.”
He watched discomfort creep over their faces.
Elizabeth corrected him. “We have done this. We,” she emphasized. “But yes, I admit I wasn’t sure what your contribution would be, other than the constant criticism you seem to have become fond of expressing. I’m sorry for thinking you weren’t contributing like you should have been, but I must say, you’re being childish. Don’t wrench your arm out of its socket to pat yourself on the back. As you so snidely indicated, we clearly have more work to do. We can’t have patients deteriorating—especially if they become violent and nearly impossible to kill. This changes the dangers, Carlisle. Before, it wasn’t too much hassle to . . . correct the situation. Now, we may not be able to so easily dispatch the subjects.” She glanced at Amir when she said this.
Looking back at Falk, she scowled and said, “Stop gloating. Jesus! What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Why shouldn’t I gloat? I just turned an aging man of no consequence into an immortal. You have helped me make him into somewhat of the male ideal, which will be a pleasant side effect, but the miracle here is mine.”
Doctor Reprate became red-faced. “I r-resent that!” he stuttered. “M-mm . . . my work is equally im-m . . . important. I created a way to heal all but death. Even death would have been something I could have fixed, given more time. You may have made it so he w-won’t age, but I’ve made it so he can survive. What good is not aging if you can be shot to death by a drug dealer or angry spouse?” Reprate licked his lips nervously. “His repair process and central immune sys
tem are incredibly enhanced. I . . . uh, I won’t have it. I have done an incredible amount of work here. All of us have. What’s wrong with you? You aren’t the only b-b . . . brilliant scientist here, you know. The world will see more than one f-f . . . face.” He took a deep breath and looked worriedly over at Amir. “And I agree with Elizabeth. There is much more t-t . . . to be done. We have to fix all the problems that have arisen. This man is clearly deteriorating to an uncontrollable caveman state before our eyes. Look at him!”
Faust stepped back toward the table, his heart racing as he was finally able to allow a sneer to touch his face. His calculated goading had worked, and he positioned himself behind Amir. The other doctors didn’t say a word about his movements. “Oh really?” he continued, goading them even more. “You think creating an oversized penis and bulging muscles are something to be heralded? While you’ve focused on enhancing physique and useless sexual characteristics, I’ve been redesigning the genome! You think I couldn’t figure out a way to make the tissue recover rapidly? I could have, if I hadn’t been so focused on fixing the genetic time bomb which is the downfall of all humans since the dawn of creation. You make me sick. You idiots have done a decent job, but nothing remarkable. Sure, there’s a market for some of your silly vanity, but who cares when compared to what I’ve achieved?”
He made a quick motion and one of the robots injected Amir with another massive dose of drugs from one of the silver trays. Amir began breathing heavily and his fingers grew white from gripping the table. Sweat dripped from his hair.
The other doctors looked at Faust, disbelief showing on their faces.
Elizabeth finally recovered from the verbal slap she’d received. “You arrogant prick!” She stepped forward, pointing at him accusingly. “How dare you demean my work by simplifying it as tinkering with his male anatomy. You insufferable asshole! Those ‘vain’ enhancements will more than fund the remaining research. I’ve invented a goldmine!”
Sector Seven Page 2
