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Fathom's Phantoms The Calm

The questions from the other Gens hit Theo like a brick wall. Henry, Ken, and Ozzy began throwing inquiries at him the moment he started distributing the last of the HID. In the handful of minutes he had to talk to Jen she had deposited her entire personal store of the chemical in his paws. Theo had objected, citing that she would have some very unpleasant withdrawals, but she refused to listen to the argument; she took HID as a point of objection to her father, not because she needed it to live.

While most of the youngest Gens' questions were directed toward the HID, Marco's was much more direct, "How's the Overseer? Is she alright? Was she hurt?"

Once the Weasel had managed to address his curiosity toward Jen, the rest of the Gens quickly added their own concerns about their manager. Although it wasn't that much more ordered, the Wolf at least felt more comfortable discussing something he felt he could answer effectively.

Theo held his paws up to silence everyone, and it worked. "Ms. Thurstenburger is fine."

The Gens had been in quarantine for two days, just in case there was anything among the VAC troops that would cause a problem... thankfully nothing had. Regardless, they had questions and it was up to the wolf to address as many as he could... and he did so in as linear a manner as possible. Theo had been the only one in the group to see Jen since the attack... and that had been three days prior.

She had perhaps five minutes with him, which was long enough to hear his report, give him a hug, and order him to distribute her remaining stock of the HID evenly. A number of questions were raised about the meaning of 'evenly', but, as he provided everyone the last of the stock, he made it abundantly clear that he took it to mean that everyone would get the exact same number of doses.

Only once the Wolf had arrived at Nathaniel did he realize that the Elephant hadn't spoken up once. Theo gave the large Gen a share. "Is everything alright, Nate?"

The Elephant looked down at Theo; though Nathaniel was seated he was still taller than the wolf. "With Yancy gone I'm the only Mark Four-Point-Three Gen here."

The rest of the Gens grew quiet as they all realized what Nate was implying. Carol moved up slowly and rested a paw on the Elephant's elbow. "They haven't done that much research into going off regimen. I mean... for all we know it--"

Nate announced in an entirely too-calm voice "I'm gonna to die first. I was the last to be born, and I'm going to die first."

Marco huffed, the Weasel's paws resting on either side of his hips in frustration, "We don't know for sure that going off of the HID will--"

The Elephant didn't give him a chance to finish. "Then I'm gonna be the test case. You'll all find out with me."

Nate cupped the pill bottle in his two hands as if it were a holy relic, "The doctors said that I'll break down faster than anyone else because I was grown so fast... it'll be like rapid aging or something... so..."

The Elephant he swallowed hesitantly, looking at the pill bottle. Xavier stood up, shaking his head. The Borzoi rested a paw on one of Nathan's tusk comfortingly. "Jen'll order more... we'll get more soon enough. I'll fly out and get it myself if I have to."

Nate offered a faint smile, "Thanks... but none of us know exactly how long I have... I... I just hope it doesn't hurt... too much. Maybe I'll be so out-of-it by then that I won't care... right?"

Oswald sat down on the floor. "It might be peaceful... you know... like going in your sleep."

Theo could tell in his distant gaze that the Otter was likely considering his own mortality more than that of the Elephant; Oswald was a Mark 4.1, which meant that he wasn't likely to last much longer than Nathaniel.

Henry shrugged. Theo had never known the Hyena to be anything other than fatalistic, and he seemed to be handling the situation better than anyone else. "We'll all die eventually."

Kenneth stood up, ruffling his wings. The Bat went straight for the exit to the apartment. "Well I don't like it. I don't want to sit here and just wait for it to happen... I'm gonna go see what we can DO about it!"

Ken wasn't normally hot-headed, but Theo realized that the Bat, like Ozzy, didn't have much more time than Nate. Gertrude, on the other hand, was much more subdued. "I'm more worried about what'll happen between going off of it and dying without it."

That caught everyone's attention fast enough. The Mouse had stated it plainly and calmly, but there was nobody in the room that didn't know what she meant: the HID had kept their emotions, tempers, and, most importantly, their hormones in check. Without their medicine anything that came next would be a complete unknown.

* * * * * *

Kamrn had never really been one to mourn; most Gorumn had their own special ceremonies to honor fallen comrades but he'd never been much for ceremony either. Instead, he chose to go about his business, preferring to do his job... which had become more difficult after the loss of his compatriots. All in all, seventeen security personnel died in the VAC raid. Even though Kamrn knew only a handful of them personally he felt the loss of all of them thanks to the increased shift rotation.

It wasn't all bad however and he wasn't about to complain. With a break in the chain of command it had turned out in Kamrn's favor; he was promoted for his assistance in the defense of the station. The Gorumn was practically aglow with the return of his Sergeant's badge-- he had done it! He was no longer a Grunt. Although he maintained the trim on his armor that identified him as a recruited security unit he was pleased beyond all measure that he had taken the first step (of many) to restore his name and regain his place among the police.

The first part of his shift that night consisted of his regular duties watching the lifts and trams. It was quiet, mostly because everyone was still on their best behavior after the VAC attack, but also because the majority of station inhabitants had chosen to sequester themselves in their quarters whenever they weren't on the clock. What that meant for Kamrn was that his job was just a little bit easier... except for the back-to-back assignments, of course.

For his second shift the Gorumn was assigned a second security officer. Although Kamrn was not normally inclined to receive a partner he was pleased to find out that it was Mol. The Cytkus female was like him in many ways and they tended to get along-- mostly because they stayed out of one another's way when they worked together. The patrol assigned to them was down in one of the lower levels on the station and it was just busy enough that it allowed Kamrn time to blow off some steam.

Right toward the end of their patrol they responded to an issue involving an altercation between two Ghouls. Kamrn was actually smiling while he was chasing a red suited Civet down several corridors, then tackled the feline once Mol winged their quarry with a rubber bullet. The Gorumn showed expert professionalism, managing to restrain the red uniformed Gen without causing any real damage. The brig warden didn't appreciate the quality of the capture, of course, but Mol, who was more aware of Kamrn's idiosyncrasies, took the opportunity to congratulate him once they had left the prison cell block.

The Cytkus complimented him, reaching over to give him a sound slap on the back. She repeated it with a swift smack from her tail too, smirking. "A few more captures like that and the Commander might give you a change to your colors."

Very few security officers were equal to Kamrn on height, but Mol was one of them... and she seemed perfectly content to be physical with him. It was quite a compliment in and of itself, though the Gorumn had a feeling that her touchy-feely nature was a little more than casual. "Thanks."

A few moments later she confirmed his suspicions, "Shifts over... my quarters are open if you feel like having a go."

He kept his response simple. "No. I'm going back to mine."

She extended the offer. "I could join you."

When he didn't stop, she added, "I'll let you be on top."

She smiled invitingly, revealed her two rows of teeth when he paused. The thought almost made him consider it; he did like top. However one thing he didn't particularly like was such a forward female... or one as big as he was. In the end he decided to avoid complications. "No. I just want to rest... and you should too. We need to be fresh for our next shifts tomorrow."

She made one more attempt, though it seemed more to pout than to press the issue. "Maybe that's how I like resting."

When the Gorumn remained unmoved he watched as Mol about-faced, slamming her tail in agitation against the wall, hard enough to make a distinct sound, but not with enough power to break anything. Kamrn gave her no more thought as he walked away; he didn't have any energy for dwelling on a woman with who he had little-to-no interest.

Once back at his room he closed the door and set the lock. Unlatching his armor, the Gorumn set it aside and stripped down to nothing, putting his uniform through the personal laundry unit on a double-wash cycle. He worked hard to keep his powerful scent from disturbing the sensitive noses of the other races, and that meant special attention to his hygene.

Scratching his groin with one hand, Kamrn pressed a few buttons on his sound system, pulling up one of his favorite songs and turning the volume up to high before heading to the shower. Although the Gorum would never admit it, he enjoyed singing in the shower... a lot... and 'Il Seraglio' was one of the few Human operas that had a singing part made comfortably in his higher register. The fact that the character, Osmin, was surprisingly like a Gorumn further delighted him.

Soaping up and washing his muscular, green skinned frame thoroughly, Kamrn sang along with the music and completely lost in the joy of a hot shower and good opera. As he was finishing up, the Gorumn briefly toyed with the idea that there was some production value in the thought of having someone design 'Il Seraglio' for a multiracial cast... updating it a few hundred years to make it that much more modern, of course.

He continued humming to himself as he dried off, finding great enjoyment in the simple act of personal care. A part of him lamented the fact that he could have enjoyed a fling with his coworker but he also realized that it would have cut into his shower time. Besides, he reasoned, he had a hand... and it didn't talk as much.

* * * * * *

The Cat asked the same question he'd asked no less than three times in the prior hour. "You're HOW old again?"

Despite his obvious lack of familiarity with the Designer Domestics model of LHI's, Dr Victor Cortez was the only member of the medical staff Kenneth had found who was willing to so much as speak with him after the DNA coding test he ran came back as 'ACCESS DENIED - PROPRIETARY INFORMATION'.

The Bat replied as directly as the first time. "My coding has been rendered for just over two years..." though he decided to add something new for the Cat's trouble. "But I was born fourteen months and eleven days ago."

Dr Cortez smiled, using a pipet to transfer a solution from one vial to another. "Though I would say you weren't exactly BORN, now were you?"

Ken frowned. "It was the day I was disconnected from The System, and brought into the world. Based on what I've heard the doctors say, it's just as traumatic as being born... but I can remember it while all the Gens who come out the usual way don't."

The Cat looked up from the test tubes. "Wow... sucks to be you."

The Bat's frown became a scowl. "Because I can remember what it was like?"

Dr Cortez gave the test tube a little shake. "Well that, yea... but I was talking about this 'HID' stuff."

The bat scowled, beginning to think that he was wasting his time with a cat whose only real interest was learning about him and offering up insulting comments rather than helping. "Can you do something or not?"

Dr Cortez paused, setting the tube in a stand. "Actually... I think I can, yes."

A great weight came immediately off of Kenneth's shoulders, not just because there was hope for him and his coworkers, but also because it reaffirmed that the decision he made to look for aid was with merit. Not only was he concerned about running out of HID, but his very existence was tailored around doing right by his employer and he hadn't stopped to get permission to seek the aid of a scientist before doing so.

He knew Jen would have been very displeased if she discovered that he was risking LHI's proprietary information without some kind of payback; he'd been suffering from a migraine and stomach aches for almost over hour because of it. Fortunately, with a positive return in sight, the Bat's entire being was rejuvenated knowing that he might possibly succeed.

The Cat paused when one of the vials shattered on the med bay floor a moment later. "Oops. How clumsy of me."

Kenneth began to feel the migraine threaten its return. "That isn't exactly instilling confidence."

The Doctor knelt down to pick up the mess. "I'm just excited, that's all. It's been awhile since I had the opportunity to put my knowledge and skill to good use."

Kenneth was not comforted. "Hooray for you, I guess."

The Cat discarded the item into a secure can and then fished around in one of the cabinets, "I am very confident that I can synthesize a replacement for this chemical you need. It won't be exactly the same but its effects on your body will help counteract the break-down of the amino acids that make up your oh-so-expensive custom-tailored genetic code."

The Bat sat up straighter. "So... it's something we'll be able to use instead of the HID?"

The cat shrugged, returning to the bat with a syringe in his paws. "For awhile, sure... Just not forever... because it'll kill you eventually."

Dr Cortez stood there for a moment expectantly, but Kenneth just stared, trying to process what had just been said. The cat gave the needle a little shake. "This isn't just for show. Arm, please."

Kenneth presented his arm, watching as the doctor drew some blood from him. "So... whatever you're making... can kill us?"

The Cat nodded. "Eventually anything CAN kill you. The replacement for your therapy treatment will just do it faster than most things, yes."

Dr Cortez returned to the counter top where he had a large number of machines and instruments placed. The Bat watched him incredulously. "So... it won't help then? We're going to die if we don't get our HID."

Dr Cortez frowned in response, "You'll last longer with the right kind of chemical therapy."

"And what is 'the right kind'?"

The cat began squeezing out small amounts of blood into several vials, "I'm going to make that 'right kind'... so yes, it WILL help. It will give you more time and, with any luck, we'll get more shipments of that HID-stuff you need."

The bat remained quiet for a few moments before he could manage to formulate his next question, "So... how long will it give us?"

The cat's response didn't answer his question-- in fact, it was another question entirely, "Did you know that as little as 270 parts per million of airborne cyanide can kill most people within minutes?"

The bat felt his headache grow stronger, "What does that have to do with--"

Dr Cortez didn't give him a chance to object, "Hypersensitivity, asthma, or bronchitis may actually increase or decrease a given individuals susceptibility to it."

"I don't see how that--"

The Cat spoke flatly, as if to a developmentally challenged individual. "Not everyone's the same, kid."

To anyone else it would have seemed strange for Victor to use such a title on the bat who, by all accounts, appeared to be a good five or six years his elder, but they both knew Kenneth's real age. "I'd say that someone who's already sick or dying probably won't last past a few treatments... But someone who's healthy might get by for a while."

Kenneth blinked. "So... you're saying we should start the treatment before we run out of HID completely."

Dr Cortez clarified. "I'd say start on it after you run out. No need to poison yourself without reason... so wait until after you've all used up the last of your medicine, then substitute doses of my wonderful new creation."

The bat paused at the cat's declaration, "Are... I mean... you mean... You already know how to make what we need?"

Dr Cortez nodded, "It's done, actually. I just need some of that medicine of yours to compare with it to be COMPLETELY sure it will work."

Kenneth hesitated for a moment, then decided to fully commit. He handed the Vat a full dose of his remaining HID.

The Doctor accepted it, then set it on the counter. "I'll need more than that.".

The Bat's pause was longer, and he slowly fished out another dose, "I don't know why you--"

The Cat didn't hesitate to interrupt him yet again, "You're wasting my time now... just turn out your pockets and I'll take what I need."

Reluctantly Kenneth complied, and was aghast to discover that Dr Cortez needed a good quarter of what the bat had left. Before he could object, the Cat spoke up. "You'll thank me when I can use this to get the right percentage on the doses."

It took a moment for Kenneth to overcome the shock of having to give up so much of his supply, "H-how much can you make?"

The cat chuckled, returning to his test tubes, "Enough to kill all of you a few times over.... So more than enough for you to make due as long as you can... please stop asking such needless questions and let me work."

Kenneth fidgeted as he sat where the Cat had placed him. Time passed with little sounds other than Dr Cortez working away at his devices. Just as the Bat was about to give up hope, the doctor turned back to face him, "Alright... I've managed to dilute the solution as much as I can without it losing potency."

Wringing his paws together, Ken asked, "And... it'll make it so we can survive without HID?"

He provided Kenneth with an entire medicine bottle, "Assuming you don't die from the Genetic Ossification Drug you should be able to avoid most of the adverse effects of going off your meds indefinitely."

"Most?" Kenneth asked, followed a half-second later with a second one, "...Ossification?"

The Cat gave the bottle a little shake, rattling the pills inside, "These will keep your DNA and RNA playing nice... And yes, 'ossification'... I've always liked that word, and it helps with giving this amazing new chemical compound an equally amazing, poignant acronym."

The Bat quickly put it together. "Gee-Oh-Dee... You are calling it--"

Dr Cortez's smirk was entirely self-gratified. "I've managed to bottle GOD. Only GOD can save you now, my friend."

Kenneth stood up, but the Cat placed a paw on his chest. Dr Cortez' good humor was completely gone, and the face of a tried-and-true businessman replaced the Cat's casual smiles. "I trust my assistance to Overseer Thurstenburger will NOT go unnoticed?"

"As soon as we know it works and all of my coworkers--"

Dr Cortez harrumphed. "It works... but there's no 'all' about it. This batch is for you-- just for you... if the rest of the Overseer's work force need a little GOD in their life they'll have to come to me so I can tailor a solution to them too."

"Why?"

The Cat rolled his eyes. "That's what the blood draw was for.... customization."

Kenneth acknowledged hesitantly, sliding the medicine into his pocket, "Thank you... Doctor... I'll... let everyone know."

Dr. Cortez was immediately all smiles once again. "You're VERY welcome. And yes... please do. GOD won't wait forever."

The Bat made his way quickly out of med bay, feeling more hope after the experience, but, at the same time, much more ill-at-ease. He also reminded himself that the good doctor never bothered answering his question about which adverse effects of being without HID were included with the cat's use of the word 'most'. There was no point in questioning, he realized... at that point he was gambling, and it was so late in the game that he couldn't afford to fold.