The Case of the Mad Scientist

Chapter 13: Facing the Boss

It was early evening and lights from the privileged few homes overlooking the lake were reflecting off the still water. From the second floor of Janichi Watanabe’s mini-mansion, the view out over the lake was quite pleasing. His classic Japanese style house was close enough to the lake’s edge that he had a short set of stairs leading down to a small dock. There were no boats at that dock, but he could have walked down and gone fishing any time he wished. Janichi Watanabe did not want the trout jumping in the twilight; he fished deeper waters - and more dangerous waters.

“You promised me results,” he said softly as he picked up a small cup of fragrant tea. “So far you have not delivered any.” He sipped, and in doing so, sent a message to the doctor in the wrinkled lab coat. To not offer tea to your guest was an insult of the first magnitude. If Sorren realized it, he did not seem to care.

“My research is progressing,” he offered. “I have perfected the virus that will enter the human body and alter the DNA. I am working on coding that virus to alter the DNA into patterns we want.”

“Indeed?” Watanabe reply was cool, to say the least. “I have given you a research lab and provided you with all the equipment you asked for. I have even provided you with ‘test subjects’, as per your requirements.”

“You have been most generous, Watanabe-san. Much more so than my homeland colleagues. I am sure that results will be forthcoming.” Nervousness was beginning to show on Sorren’s pale face. “I promise.”

Watanabe took his time finishing the cup of tea. An elderly man, slender with wrinkled skin and age blots on his face and hands, he settled back in his chair. Although looking like someone’s great-grandfather, his black eyes were sharp and his brain still functioning like a steel trap. Always the picture of politeness, he had, nevertheless, destroyed lesser businessmen who went up against him. His business empire had grown so large that it was doubtful even he knew just how big it was.

“It is dangerous,” he began, taking another tack, “to keep supplying you with young women. With every one you use in your experiments, the danger increases that someone will notice our activities. And it is expensive. We now have to go some distance to procure your subjects.”

“Aren’t there still many in the earthquake area that you can take? Those who no one will miss? So many people are still listed as ‘Missing’.”

“For the first few weeks, that was so. But now the authorities are better organized. We have started to send men to Tokyo and other cities. Best not to take too many from one place.”

“I see. Then it is wise to seek them elsewhere.”

standing before him. Making a person wait and squirm was an old tactic. So was

where your virus

displayed no visible signs that the DNA had,

before this old man. Watanabe dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand. As Sorren turned to go, he was silently cursing that he had to put up with non-scientists, people who did not understand how difficult it was to alter the human body on the most basic level. In the corridor leading back down to his lab, he continued fuming, this time at Maurice Batton, the Director of Research at Swanson Labs, a bastard who was so blind that he

rich and famous. Watanabe, however, wanted something quite different. The ability to alter the human body and its functions could be used for much more than just curing a few diseases - so much more. One could create a race of super soldiers who could far outperform normal humans, who were easy to train and totally fearless in the face of death. Or workers who were not encumbered by personal desires and wants; workers who would day in and day out perform their duties and be content with some food and a place to sleep. There was even lurking in his mind the idea of creating super women. If the DNA could be manipulated properly, you

to Gato, who had been standing in the shadows all the while, he inquired,

any of them sexually. It is almost as if he has no sex drive at all.” Unlike Gato himself, who had often used

“Is he gay?”

offered to get

are sure that you are using men who will not allow any trace to point to

them was kidnapping women for a prostitution ring. ‘White slavery’ the

at the few homes showing lights along the mountains surrounding the lake. “Very well, we shall allow him more time. See that he gets the subjects he claims to need. But be careful. In this day and age of modern communications and databases, it is not as easy to make a person

“I shall.”

to keep an eye on

and quickly left

he reminded himself, expected to find some miracle in this new technology that would prolong his life. Already his body was failing him, and in not too many years there would be no more Watanabe-san to run his business empire. Gato had been making plans to grab what he could from Watanabe’s

you would find in any jail or prison. There were currently two subjects incarcerated therein, a young, slender girl from outskirts of Morioka, and another prostitute from Tokyo. That one was in her late teens but had apparently had a hard life because she looked older. The doctor would not be happy with her, but was just too bad. Gato, in his own mind, thought this whole medical research thing was a bunch of hogwash, to use an American term. He could not see how a tiny virus could change a human being - actually change the body and mental state. As far as he was concerned, nothing would

shackled her with a goodly weight of steel chains and locks and tight bands around her wrists, ankles and neck. Take a woman’s

other cell. The teenager looked up. Her chains made clinking noises as she shifted her position on the floor. He had made sure that the cells contained nothing to give them comfort. There was no bed, no chair, nothing but a small drain in the middle of the floor. The walls were bare concrete and there were no windows. A single light in the corridor shed some light into each cell, but very little. Each naked woman was also denied a blanket. At night the cells became cold, but only enough to keep them miserable. He kept the air temperature just high enough to keep them

saw the look in his eyes, the look of a predator who cared nothing for his prisoners. She closed her mouth, the plea left unspoken.