Ruckus in Munich Chapter 7.
Posted: Tue Jul 06, 2004 2:29 am
“Dust Thou Art and Unto Dust Thou Shalt Return”
Genesis 2:7.
The shadows were everywhere… They concealed, aided, abetted, and gave shelter to the bastard children of evil. They converged, congealed and held sway over dark council. It is said everyone has a demon lurking inside them…waiting…for the chance to entrap another soul. That shadows were merely a physical representation of this dark thread.
When Lucifer and Jehovah waged a war for the destiny of humanity’s souls, Beelzebub was the fallen angel’s closest consultant, advising him to corrupt and seduce, instead of force or coercion. It proved fruitful, for the dark tempts more than the light. More often than not, men will let their souls be consumed with shadow…
Fog… the celestial tide. Blanketing the land and withdrawing from whence it came. It hides much, coating all. The great bodies entreating the lowly inhabitants beneath them…with their presence, obscuring and misdirecting efforts. Unlike shadow, fog does not discriminate between dark and light; it misleads all and any who enter its domain. The intrepid, the cowardly, the soft, the foolish, all were equally ensnared.
‘Shadows and Fog, they are the sustenance that keeps this unholy covenant from crumbling. That and I hold their minds in the vice-grip of perpetual fear, my pathetic sycophants. Machiavelli was right ‘If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared’. I fear the vengeance of no man, no nation, nothing. They cower from MY vengeance. As the Fuhrer once said ‘Only force rules. Force is the first law’. The honorable Justice Deimos Sabina presiding.’ A chuckle escaped the cowl that smothered the countenance of the pacing figure. Low and rattling, it served to unsettle more than comfort.
My sentences may be harsh but I reward success. The winners live; the losers face the worst fate imaginable. They become their twisted creations, or are torn apart by their comrades. How ironic. Yet how deliciously suitable.
The embodiment of a python undulating through his warren, he moved through the stark corridors. He arrived at a trapezoidal entrance and placed his hand on the ID plate. His claws clicked together as he drummed them across the transparent surface. The wide-beam laser swept across his palm and he waited.
“Confirmed as Lord Sabina, Please Enter.” A pleasant, though emotionless female voice announced.
Sabina entered the briefing room, taking his seat at the head of the table. The hematite surface glowed dully in the weak light. The silver surface was pockmarked with numerous scorings and black stripes. He hunkered down into the high backed chair designed for his modified anatomy. The cowl spoke:
“Status Reports, Dr. Alfred Johansson, first.” The hand waved dismissively.
A nervous blonde man arose from his seat. Hands trembling and shoulders quivering he began haltingly.
“Our recombinant program is running into some problems, Cybernetic and Nano mods are coming along ahead of schedule. The nanosurgeons are doing quite well, and the subjects aren’t rejecting the cybernetic implants.” He remained standing.
The hands drew patterns in the air, and motioned for him to explicate.
“Success rate for the Temujin and Agrona mods is 98%; Keres program success is an appalling 30%. Apparently…the subjects cannot handle the biological stress, their immune system combined with unconscious resistance fights the changes, or they go insane if either does not occur. These factors have prompted the design and implementation of endocrinal control system, which has further complicated matters, but has ensured control over the ones that survive.” The man began crossing himself.
“Verklaar verdere Katholiek, of u zult Maagdelijke Mary spoedig ontmoeten.” Deimos uttered in gutter Dutch to the surprised geneticist, he removed his cowl and bared his teeth at the man, his angular face no longer covered by the black smoke. It was not human. Catlike eyes, green pebbled skin that had a strange translucence to it, and almost seemed wet…Deimos was definitely not human, a protruding snout further separated him from the rest of his subordinates.
“Yes Milord, the Keres program has been hobbled because of our relative inexperience, current technology, biological and genetic limitations, and resistance from our subjects. I’ll explain how we make the alterations to Keres subjects first, Lord Sabina. In the human genetic code, there are large inactive stretches of genome called introns. These inactive spaces in the genome are from other animals. Activating certain introns in a supervised manner would create certain phenotype differences, and it does not change the structure of proteins; avoiding rejection by the body to the changes. These changes would have the desired effect, but the changes would be too slow for practical use.”
“How slow Dr. Johansson?” Deimos was curious.
He fidgeted. “Anywhere from 6 months to four years, Milord.”
“Thank you. Continue with your explanation.” Sabina was quite proud of the things his acolytes had accomplished.
“We activate these introns through the use of retroviruses, and use the Progenitor cells to simply accelerate these changes as well as setting up important connections, such as additional neural and circulatory nets. Thus the period of time for redevelopment is around 2 weeks for minor alterations…with full alterations taking 2 months.”
“Biological stress load is the first and most frequent cause of testing…discontinuation. When the progenitor cells are attaching and melding to the subject’s body…the body can only handle so much change in one period of time. Otherwise the subject goes into shock or organ failure. We are essentially putting these subjects back into the womb. By having the progenitor cells anchor themselves to the body; we can alter and change its structure. Some of the subjects may have trained themselves to superior physical and mental conditions, but if they had to fight their body for it, they were unable to maintain vital functions and fuel the progenitors while they made changes. Rejection was really not an issue, as these were their cells. The problem is akin to a response to stress put on a system at equilibrium. Energy is used up to bring it back to equilibrium, and for these subjects they died in the process of doing so.” He paused briefly to let Sabina and his fellow scientists under the man process the information.
“Another problem with the physical alterations is the unconscious mind itself. The body naturally resists changes to it, and is not the most compromising partner. As we all recall from Physiology, the brain stem controls unconscious functions of the body…like breathing, and heartbeat. What the brainstem does to hamper the development of progenitor attachments is that it does not send enough blood or nutrients towards the attachment points in the interests of keeping the body static. Thus the progenitor cells die because they failed to make adequate connections. If they succeeded they could detach from the body at any time, due to the fact that they are artificial constructs, and are chemically unable to completely bond with the body. “
Could you even call him a man? He does not look nor act like one...He’s become so twisted biologically and mentally to bring about the changes needed to achieve his goals. Was his disfigurement and alteration really worth the end that he espouses?
“One of the basics of our program is the use of retroviruses to change the genetic codes of cells. The viruses enter the body, puncture the cell membranes, and inject their genetic code, which in turn may alter the code of the organism it’s infesting. We’d had to tailor viruses so they would activate the desired introns. Unfortunately…some of the subjects’ immune systems attacked the viruses, because they did not seem innocuous to those particular immune systems. As a result when the genetic code variation was supposed to set forth the desired changes, and make a friendly environment for progenitor cells; the subjects died of complications.”
“Now, Dr. Johansson…I was going to execute you on the rather disappointing Keres results…but you’ve fixed one of your problems, furthermore…the success in the other two is really what I wanted anyway. If you had failed me…you would be one of subjects for the recombinant program. You did not. You and your family will live well. I expect improvement in the Recombinant program…however insignificant.” His voice was a low hiss.
“Dr. Li Jing, what have you to report on weapons development and testing?”
The woman stood, raven locks obscuring her face. She was quite striking, but Deimos had no interests in the flesh. It held little sway over him, and was merely an impediment to achieving his goals.
Keres, Temujin, Agrona. Let it never be said that Deimos Sabina was not a poet in his quest. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to use examples of the very creatures that created me. They are…quite inferior: Intellectually their raw potential is sufficient, but emotionally and anatomically…quite so. My plans will correct these woeful deficiencies and the dominant life form on Earth shall ascend; to heights unknown and reaches that they could not dare to dream of. It all begins here.
Keres; my brutal enforcers, the Greek mythological agents of violent death. Personifying death in battle, by accident, or by murder. Craving blood and feasting upon it after ripping free the souls from the mortally wounded and sending them on their way to Hades. I shall make them the backbone of the human empire. They shall be our soldiers and laborers, brutal and uncouth when they need to be, shedding their enhanced body every 6 months or so for two weeks of recuperation and relaxation. They’ll kill for pleasure instead of duty, and it delays combat stress.
Temujin; of iron, if we cannot alter every human…then we must make them as close to their genetically modified compatriots. They are our machinists, our technicians, the smart workers. Interfacing with machinery in ways only dreamed of. Of course they are not prohibited from taking other roles, but their effectiveness is most in that regard. To say nothing of the things one can do in battle with an integral .50 cal, they would also be effective as mechanized infantry…training isn’t nearly as hard when the device is part of you.
Agrona; battle, slaughter, the Celtic goddess of war and death. The mainstay of any population and of any army, they shall be the majority of new humans. Having the ability to also take upon the role of Temujin might also be a problem, but perhaps it would help both sects. Humanity shall be a plague upon other civilizations, conquering and holding dominion over all, if any exist. If push comes to shove, we can simply recreate my kind, and use the earth’s best genetics to triumph over any and all who oppose our rule.
Why have I resigned myself to promoting and spreading the race I hate? They after all, brought me into being, and used me in conditions they would never subject others to, and foolishly assumed they were superior. I am superior. Soon I will prove their fruitless logic of: “Then why did you not create us?” wrong. Excessively painful was my treatment, and the way they controlled me. Perhaps I could have been a loyal servant, and might have willingly believed I was sent to alleviate their problems, but their treatment of me proved otherwise. Using for me to test cures of their diseases, and then being a test subject to their biological and chemical weapons of death. Those tests were…excessively painful. I may have recovered, but my suffering was not alleviated by those abominations, they wished to see the natural effects on a humanoid.
I learned I was actually stolen from the Nazis when an Allied PFC stumbled into an underground research center whilst trying to dig a foxhole at Bastogne. The poor fool managed to kill the guards and the scientists, and ultimately sealed his death, by taking those documents; the documents that explained my genetic makeup, the materials necessary, and the exact procedure on how to create such a monster. The chimera invulnerable to disease, chemicals, tolerant of temperature conditions that humans could not survive without expensive provisions, adaptive biology allowed me to walk comfortable without a knife, traverse types of terrain that were cumbersome for humanity, and regenerative properties; in other words the perfect autonomous soldier to carry out the Fuhrer’s crusade when Germany fell. I would have never come to being if PFC Tony Sabina had not delivered the Deimos project into the hands of Allied Command. The United States now had a lowly PFC in the 101st airborne carrying the knowledge of Nazi Germany’s horrific attempts in genetic engineering. He was killed by a German sniper when crossing the Rhine. I do dislike German snipers, even more so than their Russian counterparts. So I took his last name as a tribute to his kindness.
I am and will forever be a monster. I am content with this role; because I am glad I am not a lowly human. They are incomplete, I seek to change that. I am a truly twisted piece of biological machinery. Archaebacteria RNA; chemical tolerance. Crocodile DNA; disease immunity and durable skin. Newt DNA; Regeneration. Tardigrada DN; temperature tolerance. Liger DNA; muscle mass, defensive mechanisms, terrain traversing, and senses. I am adaptable, I am dangerous, and I will rule. I further have separated myself from my subordinates, by bringing further bringing out my alterations. 10 years ago, I could have passed for a human...with winter clothing and indirect sunlight.
Deimos had been musing offhandedly, while his armaments director was speaking. The first rule of being in charge was to never relinquish control.
“Get to the point woman! If you cannot learn to speak succinctly…I will provide adequate motivation” He smiled letting his enlarged canines show
“Which weapons systems are ready and which aren’t?”
“Gauss Needlers will be ready in 1.5mm, 2.5mm, 3.8mm, and 5.0mm rounds. We’ll use a titanium jacketed, tungsten core needle, for our electromagnetic impulse propelled round. Man Portable MASERS (microwave amplification by stimulated emission of radiation) will also be available in sufficient qualities. Although their uses are limited, they are excellent torture devices, and extremely silent. So if we need to eliminate someone without any fuss; we use MPMASERs. Limited number of pocket spin stabilized rockets, but that’s because we’ve just recently become completely acclimated with the technology. There will be enough for one full combat load of gyrocs, for two in a 7 man squad, for our units. Duplex rounds will also be available in abundant qualities, because although they do less damage, for each actual round you use, you get two highly effective AP bullets fired. These will be for intelligence or infiltration teams only; our Gauss technology is mature and effective enough to be used in full battlefield situations.” Jing was not a coward like Johansson.
“And? What about the heavy weapon that I gave you specifications for? Is it finished?” His interest piqued at the exclusion of his pet weapons project.
“I already covered it Milord, quite succinctly enough for even your tastes. Shall I go over it again?” Her eyes blazed, and she would never lose face, no matter who challenged her.
“Dr. Jing. I admire your guts and passion; however I do not wish want to view them when they are ripped out of your stomach. I commend courage and drive in my subordinates; as long as they remember who is in command? Clear?” He spitted her with a venomous stare, his angular pupils boring through her body.
“Our heavy Infantry weapons project meets your general specifications; however we decided to make it more effective. Instead of merely a melee weapon and a heavy assault weapon combo, we have decided to increase the deadliness. The .70 caliber machinegun will remain as the heavy support weapon, because our modified soldiers can handle the weight and recoil, and with a 100 round drum magazine built into the top, it makes for easy access and swapping out. That’s the medium range weapon, and it being water cooled is no liability. The close range weapon is a 10 gauge shotgun. 26 round magazines located at the bottom of the weapon. Independent triggers, and folding stock as well as optional silencer. We call it SDSOC or Squad Dual Support Omni Range Carbine.”
“Excellent. Most efficient for our soldiers, and a powerful assault weapon that can decimate even armored vehicles with sustained fire.” He hissed in pleasure.
“Egon Kounrad…have you decided on a location for our grand experiment?” He looked intently at a dour man with long brown hair.
“Yes Lord Sabina. It shall be Munich during the German festival of Oktoberfest. We cannot repeat the mistake we made in America again. The Americans are simply too full of fight, and have the forces that pose a very real threat. We should not steal from the Lion’s den. Munich will ideal for Keres test subjects, we can find healthy individuals in abundance, and they will be most plentiful. I understand you have no liking for Germans either, so it would seem appropriate that we struck them. We will have to deal with the efficiency of the Germans. They are just as deadly as the Americans but smaller in number and not as highly trained. Still a formidable force, assuming their government can bring them to bear.”
“Most…satisfactory, I believe you had a personal request of me Mr. Kounrad? I will grant it if it is reasonable.”
“Yes Lord Sabina. Let me accompany the strike group. I wish to make the distinction between East Germans and West Germans. I want to kill those filthy capitalist bastards. I am an East German first, German 2nd.” He had a different look in his eyes.
“Hmm…I would not think of loosing my political advisor to prove an ideological point. If that is your request, then I wish happy hunting to you. Bring me back a sniper and I shall allow for the rest of your family to come here. They shall be amply provided for.”
“Thank you Lord.” The dour man was incapable of anything but sputtering.
“Meeting dismissed. I grow tired of these deliberations.” Deimos sprang from his chair and loped towards the labs.
Deimos did not walk, he loped. Because his musculature was that of a large cat, he possessed a certain…fluidness. His armored skin tended to slow his gait, but he had developed something akin to sprinting on ice, make the initial steps and let his momentum carry him forward.
The blast doors sealing the entrance to the Lab and Development stood; two silent sentinels. Opening with a slow hiss of pressurized air, Deimos could not help but reminded of serpents. The entire area exuded a reptilian atmosphere. Green tinted isolation tanks where the bodies of Agrona and Temujin subjects floated, gave the complex a distinctly green tinge. Large banks of computers controlled the nanosurgeons that made the alterations to the Argona. Looking down from the ceiling, the lab was the semblance of a small city. The fact that the computer banks and cylindrical tanks towered over the denizens served only to reinforce this comparison. Large glass cubes were grouped toward his left, the lighting harsh and artificial. Orderlies could be seen porting numerous electronics and machinery into the glass forest. Inside of that maze of white and steel, man became one with machine.
Deimos glanced at a rust colored splatter on the wall. His custodial staff was most inefficient, they still had not cleaned up the entrails from Keres combat testing. The steel domes where they had been tested had been dissembled and carted off to provide permanent lodging for his beasts. Most unhygienic he thought as his heightened senses perceived the stench. The beasts within him fought for control, pushing him toward primal urges he had once thought dead... He shook himself violently as if to throw off the fiends that inhabited his thoughts. Thoughts in control, he continued his inspection.
Periodically he would come across subordinates, who would scamper out of his path.
They are like birds, scattering whenever something large approaches. I feel as though I am parting a sea… of cowards.
Now and again he would elicit a rigid salute, more ramrod than any tin soldier. Those impassive faces, rigid with respect…or fear, he catalogued for when the next gutting day came.
His lab had an arboreal semblance to it; the newest projects were the furthest from the center, while the oldest were located at it. It allowed for quick survey and was simply efficient. He turned his attention to the innumerable rows of growth and alteration tanks that housed his children. Not his biological children, but children of his vision. For purposes of morale, he had the subjects partially clothed in skintight garments. They did allow diffusion of the nanosurgeons to vital locations, and preserved modesty.
Humans have such inconveniently located sex organs. So vulnerable as well, however; I cannot be as cruel to my children as my creators were to me. Then I would have a problem.
As he descended deeper into the bowels of his laboratory, his pace slowed. There was more to inspect, and less to divert his attention. Workers were not welding enclosures or carrying nutrient bath cables, as they did on the outer edges. The smell of grease and of oil permeated his nostrils. His instructors must have been field stripping weapons in preparation for the final activation of the Agrona candidates.
Reaching the nucleus of his lab, he grabbed his tablet from the equipment rack. Briefly scanning RD reports, he found the section he was looking for: Activations. Skipping down towards the Agrona section, he read the codenames of his Elite. Vigdis, Morana, Gunnar, Vidar, Gunthar, Kreimhild, Bran, Aonghus, Fachtna, Fearghas, Fiachra, Laverna, Quirinus, Akantha, Rangda, Sengen, Bishamon, Hachiman, and lastly Conlaoch.
He had gone through much to obtain his standard bearers. Kidnapping, Extortion, Murder, Direct threats against the causes they so skillfully supported. Green Berets, Rangers, SAS, Spetznaz, SEALS, GROM, GSA, Jaegerkorpset, KSK, Fallskarmjagare, E.T.A. , Incursori, Sayeret Golany, and the 707th. Elites of Elites before he was able to enhance them.
He could kill them with no significant risk to his person. What he could not do was produce more Chimeras. He was the first and last of his kind. The documents had been mysteriously lost when the complex where he was used as a test subject was left in ashes.
It is a good thing corpses burn so readily. I would have never been able to escape had I been not able to start that fire. I did, and learned much about the pitiful race that is humanity. My soldiers, they will be gods among men at Munich. They shall have the peace and secuirity they desire, and I shall finally have a base to begin my army. At long last I shall be able to show the world the power of change. My kind of change, mankind will be ruled by his own creation. How fitting for such is the destiny of Gaderel.
Genesis 2:7.
The shadows were everywhere… They concealed, aided, abetted, and gave shelter to the bastard children of evil. They converged, congealed and held sway over dark council. It is said everyone has a demon lurking inside them…waiting…for the chance to entrap another soul. That shadows were merely a physical representation of this dark thread.
When Lucifer and Jehovah waged a war for the destiny of humanity’s souls, Beelzebub was the fallen angel’s closest consultant, advising him to corrupt and seduce, instead of force or coercion. It proved fruitful, for the dark tempts more than the light. More often than not, men will let their souls be consumed with shadow…
Fog… the celestial tide. Blanketing the land and withdrawing from whence it came. It hides much, coating all. The great bodies entreating the lowly inhabitants beneath them…with their presence, obscuring and misdirecting efforts. Unlike shadow, fog does not discriminate between dark and light; it misleads all and any who enter its domain. The intrepid, the cowardly, the soft, the foolish, all were equally ensnared.
‘Shadows and Fog, they are the sustenance that keeps this unholy covenant from crumbling. That and I hold their minds in the vice-grip of perpetual fear, my pathetic sycophants. Machiavelli was right ‘If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared’. I fear the vengeance of no man, no nation, nothing. They cower from MY vengeance. As the Fuhrer once said ‘Only force rules. Force is the first law’. The honorable Justice Deimos Sabina presiding.’ A chuckle escaped the cowl that smothered the countenance of the pacing figure. Low and rattling, it served to unsettle more than comfort.
My sentences may be harsh but I reward success. The winners live; the losers face the worst fate imaginable. They become their twisted creations, or are torn apart by their comrades. How ironic. Yet how deliciously suitable.
The embodiment of a python undulating through his warren, he moved through the stark corridors. He arrived at a trapezoidal entrance and placed his hand on the ID plate. His claws clicked together as he drummed them across the transparent surface. The wide-beam laser swept across his palm and he waited.
“Confirmed as Lord Sabina, Please Enter.” A pleasant, though emotionless female voice announced.
Sabina entered the briefing room, taking his seat at the head of the table. The hematite surface glowed dully in the weak light. The silver surface was pockmarked with numerous scorings and black stripes. He hunkered down into the high backed chair designed for his modified anatomy. The cowl spoke:
“Status Reports, Dr. Alfred Johansson, first.” The hand waved dismissively.
A nervous blonde man arose from his seat. Hands trembling and shoulders quivering he began haltingly.
“Our recombinant program is running into some problems, Cybernetic and Nano mods are coming along ahead of schedule. The nanosurgeons are doing quite well, and the subjects aren’t rejecting the cybernetic implants.” He remained standing.
The hands drew patterns in the air, and motioned for him to explicate.
“Success rate for the Temujin and Agrona mods is 98%; Keres program success is an appalling 30%. Apparently…the subjects cannot handle the biological stress, their immune system combined with unconscious resistance fights the changes, or they go insane if either does not occur. These factors have prompted the design and implementation of endocrinal control system, which has further complicated matters, but has ensured control over the ones that survive.” The man began crossing himself.
“Verklaar verdere Katholiek, of u zult Maagdelijke Mary spoedig ontmoeten.” Deimos uttered in gutter Dutch to the surprised geneticist, he removed his cowl and bared his teeth at the man, his angular face no longer covered by the black smoke. It was not human. Catlike eyes, green pebbled skin that had a strange translucence to it, and almost seemed wet…Deimos was definitely not human, a protruding snout further separated him from the rest of his subordinates.
“Yes Milord, the Keres program has been hobbled because of our relative inexperience, current technology, biological and genetic limitations, and resistance from our subjects. I’ll explain how we make the alterations to Keres subjects first, Lord Sabina. In the human genetic code, there are large inactive stretches of genome called introns. These inactive spaces in the genome are from other animals. Activating certain introns in a supervised manner would create certain phenotype differences, and it does not change the structure of proteins; avoiding rejection by the body to the changes. These changes would have the desired effect, but the changes would be too slow for practical use.”
“How slow Dr. Johansson?” Deimos was curious.
He fidgeted. “Anywhere from 6 months to four years, Milord.”
“Thank you. Continue with your explanation.” Sabina was quite proud of the things his acolytes had accomplished.
“We activate these introns through the use of retroviruses, and use the Progenitor cells to simply accelerate these changes as well as setting up important connections, such as additional neural and circulatory nets. Thus the period of time for redevelopment is around 2 weeks for minor alterations…with full alterations taking 2 months.”
“Biological stress load is the first and most frequent cause of testing…discontinuation. When the progenitor cells are attaching and melding to the subject’s body…the body can only handle so much change in one period of time. Otherwise the subject goes into shock or organ failure. We are essentially putting these subjects back into the womb. By having the progenitor cells anchor themselves to the body; we can alter and change its structure. Some of the subjects may have trained themselves to superior physical and mental conditions, but if they had to fight their body for it, they were unable to maintain vital functions and fuel the progenitors while they made changes. Rejection was really not an issue, as these were their cells. The problem is akin to a response to stress put on a system at equilibrium. Energy is used up to bring it back to equilibrium, and for these subjects they died in the process of doing so.” He paused briefly to let Sabina and his fellow scientists under the man process the information.
“Another problem with the physical alterations is the unconscious mind itself. The body naturally resists changes to it, and is not the most compromising partner. As we all recall from Physiology, the brain stem controls unconscious functions of the body…like breathing, and heartbeat. What the brainstem does to hamper the development of progenitor attachments is that it does not send enough blood or nutrients towards the attachment points in the interests of keeping the body static. Thus the progenitor cells die because they failed to make adequate connections. If they succeeded they could detach from the body at any time, due to the fact that they are artificial constructs, and are chemically unable to completely bond with the body. “
Could you even call him a man? He does not look nor act like one...He’s become so twisted biologically and mentally to bring about the changes needed to achieve his goals. Was his disfigurement and alteration really worth the end that he espouses?
“One of the basics of our program is the use of retroviruses to change the genetic codes of cells. The viruses enter the body, puncture the cell membranes, and inject their genetic code, which in turn may alter the code of the organism it’s infesting. We’d had to tailor viruses so they would activate the desired introns. Unfortunately…some of the subjects’ immune systems attacked the viruses, because they did not seem innocuous to those particular immune systems. As a result when the genetic code variation was supposed to set forth the desired changes, and make a friendly environment for progenitor cells; the subjects died of complications.”
“Now, Dr. Johansson…I was going to execute you on the rather disappointing Keres results…but you’ve fixed one of your problems, furthermore…the success in the other two is really what I wanted anyway. If you had failed me…you would be one of subjects for the recombinant program. You did not. You and your family will live well. I expect improvement in the Recombinant program…however insignificant.” His voice was a low hiss.
“Dr. Li Jing, what have you to report on weapons development and testing?”
The woman stood, raven locks obscuring her face. She was quite striking, but Deimos had no interests in the flesh. It held little sway over him, and was merely an impediment to achieving his goals.
Keres, Temujin, Agrona. Let it never be said that Deimos Sabina was not a poet in his quest. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to use examples of the very creatures that created me. They are…quite inferior: Intellectually their raw potential is sufficient, but emotionally and anatomically…quite so. My plans will correct these woeful deficiencies and the dominant life form on Earth shall ascend; to heights unknown and reaches that they could not dare to dream of. It all begins here.
Keres; my brutal enforcers, the Greek mythological agents of violent death. Personifying death in battle, by accident, or by murder. Craving blood and feasting upon it after ripping free the souls from the mortally wounded and sending them on their way to Hades. I shall make them the backbone of the human empire. They shall be our soldiers and laborers, brutal and uncouth when they need to be, shedding their enhanced body every 6 months or so for two weeks of recuperation and relaxation. They’ll kill for pleasure instead of duty, and it delays combat stress.
Temujin; of iron, if we cannot alter every human…then we must make them as close to their genetically modified compatriots. They are our machinists, our technicians, the smart workers. Interfacing with machinery in ways only dreamed of. Of course they are not prohibited from taking other roles, but their effectiveness is most in that regard. To say nothing of the things one can do in battle with an integral .50 cal, they would also be effective as mechanized infantry…training isn’t nearly as hard when the device is part of you.
Agrona; battle, slaughter, the Celtic goddess of war and death. The mainstay of any population and of any army, they shall be the majority of new humans. Having the ability to also take upon the role of Temujin might also be a problem, but perhaps it would help both sects. Humanity shall be a plague upon other civilizations, conquering and holding dominion over all, if any exist. If push comes to shove, we can simply recreate my kind, and use the earth’s best genetics to triumph over any and all who oppose our rule.
Why have I resigned myself to promoting and spreading the race I hate? They after all, brought me into being, and used me in conditions they would never subject others to, and foolishly assumed they were superior. I am superior. Soon I will prove their fruitless logic of: “Then why did you not create us?” wrong. Excessively painful was my treatment, and the way they controlled me. Perhaps I could have been a loyal servant, and might have willingly believed I was sent to alleviate their problems, but their treatment of me proved otherwise. Using for me to test cures of their diseases, and then being a test subject to their biological and chemical weapons of death. Those tests were…excessively painful. I may have recovered, but my suffering was not alleviated by those abominations, they wished to see the natural effects on a humanoid.
I learned I was actually stolen from the Nazis when an Allied PFC stumbled into an underground research center whilst trying to dig a foxhole at Bastogne. The poor fool managed to kill the guards and the scientists, and ultimately sealed his death, by taking those documents; the documents that explained my genetic makeup, the materials necessary, and the exact procedure on how to create such a monster. The chimera invulnerable to disease, chemicals, tolerant of temperature conditions that humans could not survive without expensive provisions, adaptive biology allowed me to walk comfortable without a knife, traverse types of terrain that were cumbersome for humanity, and regenerative properties; in other words the perfect autonomous soldier to carry out the Fuhrer’s crusade when Germany fell. I would have never come to being if PFC Tony Sabina had not delivered the Deimos project into the hands of Allied Command. The United States now had a lowly PFC in the 101st airborne carrying the knowledge of Nazi Germany’s horrific attempts in genetic engineering. He was killed by a German sniper when crossing the Rhine. I do dislike German snipers, even more so than their Russian counterparts. So I took his last name as a tribute to his kindness.
I am and will forever be a monster. I am content with this role; because I am glad I am not a lowly human. They are incomplete, I seek to change that. I am a truly twisted piece of biological machinery. Archaebacteria RNA; chemical tolerance. Crocodile DNA; disease immunity and durable skin. Newt DNA; Regeneration. Tardigrada DN; temperature tolerance. Liger DNA; muscle mass, defensive mechanisms, terrain traversing, and senses. I am adaptable, I am dangerous, and I will rule. I further have separated myself from my subordinates, by bringing further bringing out my alterations. 10 years ago, I could have passed for a human...with winter clothing and indirect sunlight.
Deimos had been musing offhandedly, while his armaments director was speaking. The first rule of being in charge was to never relinquish control.
“Get to the point woman! If you cannot learn to speak succinctly…I will provide adequate motivation” He smiled letting his enlarged canines show
“Which weapons systems are ready and which aren’t?”
“Gauss Needlers will be ready in 1.5mm, 2.5mm, 3.8mm, and 5.0mm rounds. We’ll use a titanium jacketed, tungsten core needle, for our electromagnetic impulse propelled round. Man Portable MASERS (microwave amplification by stimulated emission of radiation) will also be available in sufficient qualities. Although their uses are limited, they are excellent torture devices, and extremely silent. So if we need to eliminate someone without any fuss; we use MPMASERs. Limited number of pocket spin stabilized rockets, but that’s because we’ve just recently become completely acclimated with the technology. There will be enough for one full combat load of gyrocs, for two in a 7 man squad, for our units. Duplex rounds will also be available in abundant qualities, because although they do less damage, for each actual round you use, you get two highly effective AP bullets fired. These will be for intelligence or infiltration teams only; our Gauss technology is mature and effective enough to be used in full battlefield situations.” Jing was not a coward like Johansson.
“And? What about the heavy weapon that I gave you specifications for? Is it finished?” His interest piqued at the exclusion of his pet weapons project.
“I already covered it Milord, quite succinctly enough for even your tastes. Shall I go over it again?” Her eyes blazed, and she would never lose face, no matter who challenged her.
“Dr. Jing. I admire your guts and passion; however I do not wish want to view them when they are ripped out of your stomach. I commend courage and drive in my subordinates; as long as they remember who is in command? Clear?” He spitted her with a venomous stare, his angular pupils boring through her body.
“Our heavy Infantry weapons project meets your general specifications; however we decided to make it more effective. Instead of merely a melee weapon and a heavy assault weapon combo, we have decided to increase the deadliness. The .70 caliber machinegun will remain as the heavy support weapon, because our modified soldiers can handle the weight and recoil, and with a 100 round drum magazine built into the top, it makes for easy access and swapping out. That’s the medium range weapon, and it being water cooled is no liability. The close range weapon is a 10 gauge shotgun. 26 round magazines located at the bottom of the weapon. Independent triggers, and folding stock as well as optional silencer. We call it SDSOC or Squad Dual Support Omni Range Carbine.”
“Excellent. Most efficient for our soldiers, and a powerful assault weapon that can decimate even armored vehicles with sustained fire.” He hissed in pleasure.
“Egon Kounrad…have you decided on a location for our grand experiment?” He looked intently at a dour man with long brown hair.
“Yes Lord Sabina. It shall be Munich during the German festival of Oktoberfest. We cannot repeat the mistake we made in America again. The Americans are simply too full of fight, and have the forces that pose a very real threat. We should not steal from the Lion’s den. Munich will ideal for Keres test subjects, we can find healthy individuals in abundance, and they will be most plentiful. I understand you have no liking for Germans either, so it would seem appropriate that we struck them. We will have to deal with the efficiency of the Germans. They are just as deadly as the Americans but smaller in number and not as highly trained. Still a formidable force, assuming their government can bring them to bear.”
“Most…satisfactory, I believe you had a personal request of me Mr. Kounrad? I will grant it if it is reasonable.”
“Yes Lord Sabina. Let me accompany the strike group. I wish to make the distinction between East Germans and West Germans. I want to kill those filthy capitalist bastards. I am an East German first, German 2nd.” He had a different look in his eyes.
“Hmm…I would not think of loosing my political advisor to prove an ideological point. If that is your request, then I wish happy hunting to you. Bring me back a sniper and I shall allow for the rest of your family to come here. They shall be amply provided for.”
“Thank you Lord.” The dour man was incapable of anything but sputtering.
“Meeting dismissed. I grow tired of these deliberations.” Deimos sprang from his chair and loped towards the labs.
Deimos did not walk, he loped. Because his musculature was that of a large cat, he possessed a certain…fluidness. His armored skin tended to slow his gait, but he had developed something akin to sprinting on ice, make the initial steps and let his momentum carry him forward.
The blast doors sealing the entrance to the Lab and Development stood; two silent sentinels. Opening with a slow hiss of pressurized air, Deimos could not help but reminded of serpents. The entire area exuded a reptilian atmosphere. Green tinted isolation tanks where the bodies of Agrona and Temujin subjects floated, gave the complex a distinctly green tinge. Large banks of computers controlled the nanosurgeons that made the alterations to the Argona. Looking down from the ceiling, the lab was the semblance of a small city. The fact that the computer banks and cylindrical tanks towered over the denizens served only to reinforce this comparison. Large glass cubes were grouped toward his left, the lighting harsh and artificial. Orderlies could be seen porting numerous electronics and machinery into the glass forest. Inside of that maze of white and steel, man became one with machine.
Deimos glanced at a rust colored splatter on the wall. His custodial staff was most inefficient, they still had not cleaned up the entrails from Keres combat testing. The steel domes where they had been tested had been dissembled and carted off to provide permanent lodging for his beasts. Most unhygienic he thought as his heightened senses perceived the stench. The beasts within him fought for control, pushing him toward primal urges he had once thought dead... He shook himself violently as if to throw off the fiends that inhabited his thoughts. Thoughts in control, he continued his inspection.
Periodically he would come across subordinates, who would scamper out of his path.
They are like birds, scattering whenever something large approaches. I feel as though I am parting a sea… of cowards.
Now and again he would elicit a rigid salute, more ramrod than any tin soldier. Those impassive faces, rigid with respect…or fear, he catalogued for when the next gutting day came.
His lab had an arboreal semblance to it; the newest projects were the furthest from the center, while the oldest were located at it. It allowed for quick survey and was simply efficient. He turned his attention to the innumerable rows of growth and alteration tanks that housed his children. Not his biological children, but children of his vision. For purposes of morale, he had the subjects partially clothed in skintight garments. They did allow diffusion of the nanosurgeons to vital locations, and preserved modesty.
Humans have such inconveniently located sex organs. So vulnerable as well, however; I cannot be as cruel to my children as my creators were to me. Then I would have a problem.
As he descended deeper into the bowels of his laboratory, his pace slowed. There was more to inspect, and less to divert his attention. Workers were not welding enclosures or carrying nutrient bath cables, as they did on the outer edges. The smell of grease and of oil permeated his nostrils. His instructors must have been field stripping weapons in preparation for the final activation of the Agrona candidates.
Reaching the nucleus of his lab, he grabbed his tablet from the equipment rack. Briefly scanning RD reports, he found the section he was looking for: Activations. Skipping down towards the Agrona section, he read the codenames of his Elite. Vigdis, Morana, Gunnar, Vidar, Gunthar, Kreimhild, Bran, Aonghus, Fachtna, Fearghas, Fiachra, Laverna, Quirinus, Akantha, Rangda, Sengen, Bishamon, Hachiman, and lastly Conlaoch.
He had gone through much to obtain his standard bearers. Kidnapping, Extortion, Murder, Direct threats against the causes they so skillfully supported. Green Berets, Rangers, SAS, Spetznaz, SEALS, GROM, GSA, Jaegerkorpset, KSK, Fallskarmjagare, E.T.A. , Incursori, Sayeret Golany, and the 707th. Elites of Elites before he was able to enhance them.
He could kill them with no significant risk to his person. What he could not do was produce more Chimeras. He was the first and last of his kind. The documents had been mysteriously lost when the complex where he was used as a test subject was left in ashes.
It is a good thing corpses burn so readily. I would have never been able to escape had I been not able to start that fire. I did, and learned much about the pitiful race that is humanity. My soldiers, they will be gods among men at Munich. They shall have the peace and secuirity they desire, and I shall finally have a base to begin my army. At long last I shall be able to show the world the power of change. My kind of change, mankind will be ruled by his own creation. How fitting for such is the destiny of Gaderel.
(Poor Kurz isn't gonna get to be much of a letch in this story is he?)
Another fan.
. Oh and that East German WILL get a german sniper for Deimos Sabina. You can be sure of it, the only question is...will Melissa get him back? Just as a warning...the next chapter will have another shift in perspective...focusing on Sousuke and Kaname and then adding Melissa and Kurz...and since an idea JUST wracked my brain /me throws in additional M&K mush. Expect to have the (raw) version done late EST, or tomorrow. Then I hand it over to my beta -reader. For reasons obvious...I am not telling you who they are.