Dr. Phineas Waldolf Steel clasps his gloved hands together.
His eyes flash to his nurses, and he nods to them, devoid of emotion.
They straighten themselves, all business now, responding to his non-verbal cue.
"An interesting conundrum, one which merits thought. Much thought - I would add.
A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. My staff stands ready... as do my nurses."
He leans in toward the pensive Dr. Foetcsh.
"Doctor?" he asks. "I am prepared to follow your lead, or lead your follow, depending on your preference."
He bows slightly.
Conspiratorially, in hushed, but unhidden tones, he adds; "But, my good Doctor, I should like to put you at ease with some advice.
I would suggest that this fine Maltese gentelman's threatening air is nothing more than a distraction, a hurdle betwixt the problem and the truth.
I suggest we both ignore this so-called imprisonment. It is of no consequence to us, we have work to do.
A place is a place - provided the equipment isn't falling apart.
Let us endeavor to tease the truth out of the problem it cloaks itself in and drag it screaming and kicking into the light, shall we?."
Building a Utopian Playground - One Smile at a Time
I suppose you're right, Doctor Steel. I mean, who would shoot the guys that are working for you? Right? The doctor laughs, trying to seem at ease and calm.
Foetsch saunters over to the table, shaking slightly, and stares down at the suit of armor laying prostrate before the group. Power armor? That's it? That's simple! Right? Y-yeah... Umm, the Coalition manufactures its own power armor for our marines, and I happen to possess my own suit, devoid of the spectacular armaments of our combat models. He points to the Cardamine. But what's this for? I mean, what could a plant do for a suit of armor?"
Are you suggesting going beyond a mere exoskeleton? XiaoBei has done some experiments involving mental and physical integration with suits, but none of them have been a success. See, the human mind is adapted and evolved, to the point where utilizing our own limbs is natural. Adding four more limbs to that is rather... Difficult, in my experience. Perhaps it's the rather degraded mental capacity of the typical Coalition marine... Foetsch lets out a snicker, obviously more comfortable with his situation.
Or, you know, I could be completely wrong about my assumptions. Assuming typically makes an "ass out of you and me," as a good friend of mine used to say.
Dr. Steel replies with a wide grin. "No no, I prefer to assume that assumption is the mother of hypothesis.
I feel that is safe to assume this.
Therefore, to me, it is.
You'll have to arm-wrestle your own demons."
"Now..."
He holds his hands out, as if weighing the air. "...what if - my very good Doctor Foetcsh - we could somehow 'externalize' the wearer's own nervous system, so that its wearer could 'feel' the suit?
I understand that one of the more interesting side effects of cardamine use is an increased awareness of external stimuli, is it not?
Perhaps we could use this to our advantage..."
The Nurses sidle up to the table and begin to pick at the edges of the armored suit. "Not very stylish," Nurse Hatchett observes "...could use some color, maybe some cleaner lines...."
"Foof." Dr. Steel snorts and waggles his hand. "We will sort all that out later, my dear."
He tugs at his beard thoughtfully, turning a flexible elbow joint over in his hand. "Injection points." he says to noone. "Here, and here, where the skin stays put against the suit..."
He pauses, dreamily, then snaps his head around to face his 'captor' "Docto- erm, Mr. Runner?" he asks, brusquely. "My colleague and I will need all current datum on human reaction to intravenous Liquid Cardamine application."
The Doctor nods and ticks off points on his rubber-gloved fingers. "Dosage limits, reactions, blood toxicity, lethality, all that."
Dismissing the wheelchaired man with another waggled hand, he grabs at a knee joint, studying it. "Hmmm needles would rub and irritate. Permanent catheters?"
His musings become subvocal, and his Nurses respond to his cues by manipulating the suit parts for him as he ponders.
Building a Utopian Playground - One Smile at a Time
We also need to find a way to raise the effency of liquid Cardamine. That stuff is rare, difficult to produce. But I'm sure that you will find a solution to all possible problems, if you're that brilliant as you seem.
The voice came from a dark corner of the room and soon after that voice faded away a man the others.
My name is Sotha Sil, I'm Death Runner's right hand and responsible for the Syndicate's research. I will provide you everything you need for you work. We have shiny hidden laboratory where you can work and find all our data on Cardamine research.
He walked around, taking a look closer at the doctors. He sat down, lightened a cigarette.
I'm sorry for interrupting your thoughts, Doctor. Please, continue.
Death Runner smiled and lifted his hand gesturing towards his friend and under-boss.
"As he has already stated, this is my right hand man. He will be the one overseeing and aiding in the project. Anything you need can be requested to him.. Now then! To the laboratory!"
He snapped his fingers, and the guards quickly moved in to restrain the guests. The boss gave a nod to Torro Trait and he promptly blindfolded the scientists and two women that accompanied Dr. Steel.
The lights turned on section by section, lighting the room up in flashes of white. Tables with equipment and several suits of power armor laid on them, were in the center of the room. Crates of cardimine were under the tables as well. The terminals were to their left, with several workers sent from Galicia standing at attention beside them. Above and to the right of the room was a glass layer of wall for observing.
"Take a look around. Everything you need should be in here, but as I said If something is not, just ask for it. Ah and speaking of which.."
He wheeled himself over the wall beneath the glass observation panel and pointed to a green button.
"If you need to talk to us, use this. Hold it to speak."
Death Runner approached the group and gestured at the guards. They released their grip on the scientists and backed away.
"Dr. Steel, while you were blinded and escorted here I called in for catheters to be placed on the tables as well. Injection points from the suit and into the body would be a good place to start from the sound of it. Which brings me to the last presentation of a surprise. I think you and Professor Foetsch will enjoy this very much.."
He waved at one of the scientists standing beside the terminal. The man moved towards the wall and lifted up a red lever. Several paces away from him a small section of the floor opened up and a slave was lifted out from beneath them and brought up, standing on the floor. He collapsed though, obviously drugged. The man was wearing nothing but rags and had been blindfolded by a piece of cloth wrapped around his head, as well as another covering his mouth so he could not speak.
"Free living test subjects! They are dispensable, of course. When you are done there is a chute next to where he was lifted up that you will simply need to open up and slide him on down there. What do you think, Dr. Steel? Professor Foetsch?"
Foetsch crossed his arms and contorted his face into a disapproving scowl. Nope. Won't do it. Not going to work with slaves. The only way you're going to get me to work on your friggin' suit is if you free these people to Coalition custody immediately, or they volunteer for the work. Foetsch stared directly into the eyes of Death Runner.
If not? Then game over, man. Game over. Get someone else. Foetsch said, sauntering over to one of the close walls, and leaning up against it, adjusting his glasses, and dusting the orange off of his pure-white labcoat.
Dr. Steel stares hard at Dr. Foetsch.
Slowly rotating his gaze past his Nurses, and resting it finally on Death Runner, he licks his lips and speaks.
Quietly but firmly.
"Mechanical Engineering is not my area of study, too formal, too precise.
No wiggle room."
He picks up a wristcuff actuator, dangling it as if it were a dead rat, and it drops to the table with a clunk.
"No, I'm afraid I'll need the good Doctor Foetsch if I am to proceed.
I can work the organic end of things, easily in fact. But this..." He indicates the tables and suits "This is his department."
He eyeballs the slave for a moment before continuing.
"And while I don't bear the compunctions against 'cruelty' or 'internment' that my fine friend here does, I must ask why you would hamstring us with such clearly poor specimens.
Can you build a viable spaceship from rusted and fatigued metals?
I hardly think so."
He strides over to the slave, and picks at pale skin on the slave's shoulder. "I mean, really - Liberty's leftovers?
Please."
Tugging on his beard, he pauses, smiles, then speaks again. "I do, however, I believe have a solution."
Walking away from the slave, he approaches Death Runner at a respectful distance.
"Do what you will with this half-human narcotic soup.
We need strong, as-yet unaddicted bodies for our work.
And I think that neither of us Doctors would have a problem working with a certain strain of human specimen.
I'm thinking, of course, about captured Gallic pilots.
Dr. Foetsch and I have both seen our people's lives worsened by their antics, and I would wager that his protestations would evaporate, should we be presented with proper Gallic specimens, and not this weak, drug-addled, half-dead creature before us."
Dr. Steel clasps his hands behind his back, cricks his neck, and delivers his coup-de-gras sentences.
"No, keep your slaves for the fields - or whatever.
I'm afraid we will require military grade troops for our work.
Unless you are willing to submit some of your own battle-ready Maltese marines and pilots, I suggest you set to capturing some unwashed and stinking Gauls for us.
Otherwise this research ends here - today - due to compromised working specimens."
He looks at Dr. Foetsch with a shrug.
"Doctor?"
Building a Utopian Playground - One Smile at a Time
Gallics... Foetsch eyes Doctor Steel. The scum of the universe. Killers, murderers. They'll get what's coming to them. He shrugs.
I'll work with them. But only if they will be released to Coalition custody immediately following the experimentation. Will turns on the ball of his foot to face Death Runner. We'll need fresh specimens. Not prisoners of war, kept in a holding cell. I suppose you have a method to acquire them?
"You're right. We have our ways to capture some gallics. Shouldn't be a big problem. At least not if you don't want hundreds of them. Just tell me how many you need, and I will make sure you get them."
He lighted a cigarette and blew the smoke towards the collapsed slave.
"I will also make sure that those "half-dead creatures" get a job on a cardamine plantation. Maybe Soledad, we still need some long term research how the heavy radiation there affects humans."
Sil made a gesture and some lab assistant grabbed the unconscious body, carrying him out of the room.
"Bring him back to the others and load them on my Firefly", he turns around to Death Runner. "I will just bring those people to Soledad, then continue to Torino, and gather some useful subjects."
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