6
KIAN
Kian's office felt smaller with six people crammed around his conference table, which was covered with reports, tablets, and a laptop containing information that could shift the balance of power in their ongoing war with the Brotherhood.
"Let's start with what we know about our chemist." Kian touched his tablet, and Dr. Marcus Zhao's face appeared on the wall-mounted screen. The son of a Chinese immigrant father and a seventh-generation American Irish mother, he was handsome, in his mid-thirties, and wore elegant wire-rimmed glasses. His slight smile bordered on a smirk, making his expression look almost mocking.
"Dr. Marcus Zhao," Kian began, reading from the file Roni had compiled. "MIT graduate, summa cum laude. PhD in neurochemistry from Stanford. Professor at Berkeley for the past eight years, specializing in cognitive enhancement and neurotransmitter manipulation."
"Impressive," Turner murmured, studying the professor's list of publications. "Over sixty peer-reviewed papers. Multiple patents."
"He's brilliant but unorthodox," William added, pulling up another screen. "Gives off a vibe of the mad scientist. Three ethics violations at Berkeley, all related to pushing boundaries in human trials. Nothing serious enough to lose his position, but enough to establish a pattern."
Kaia leaned forward, her fingers dancing across her tablet. "His research focus is fascinating from a purely scientific standpoint. He was working on compounds that could enhance neural plasticity, improve reaction times, and reduce the need for sleep. His research hadn't reached the stage where he could experiment on humans, so it was still entirely theoretical. Frankly, I don't think he had any chance of getting approval for human trials."
"Limitations he no longer has to worry about," Onegus said. "Immortals can survive what would kill humans."
Kian studied Zhao's photo again. That slight smile bothered him. "I wonder whether he needed to be coerced or if he jumped at the chance to experiment without restrictions."
"According to the interrogations, they threatened to harm his sister," Julian said. "Classic leverage."
"Yes, but..." Kaia pulled up another file. "Look at his publication history. The last two years before his kidnapping, he was increasingly frustrated with institutional review boards. Multiple papers include barely veiled complaints about 'arbitrary limitations' and 'bureaucratic interference with scientific progress.'"
"You think he went willingly?" Turner's expression was skeptical. "Not that it matters. We can't do anything about it anyway. The only thing we need to figure out is the level of enhancement these drugs can provide and if they cause long-term damage. I would be thrilled if those Doomers burn out and we don't have to worry about them."
"I think it's possible he didn't resist as hard as we might expect," Kaia said. "For someone with his mindset, the opportunity to test his theories on subjects that can survive extreme enhancement might be irresistible. But then Turner is right about it being irrelevant."
"He's been working on this for over eighteen months already," Kian said. "If his initial test subjects survive and prove worthy of the investment, he'll keep perfecting his formulas until he's able to create an unstoppable army for Navuh. William, show us the timeline."
William replaced Zhao's photo on his screen with a chart. "Based on multiple interrogations, we've established a rough timeline. Zhao was taken about eighteen months ago. The first three months seem to have been spent setting up the laboratory and establishing baseline tests. In month four, the first enhancement trials began. Twenty test subjects, fifteen casualties."
Julian huffed out a breath. "Casualties is a washed term. The Doomers didn't die, but the neural damage was severe enough that they had to be retired."
A euphemism for elimination. Even the Brotherhood wouldn't keep violently insane immortals around.
William continued. "The next stage was a refinement period. Smaller test groups and adjusted formulas. Success rate improved from twenty-five percent to nearly fifty percent."
"Still unacceptable losses by any reasonable standard," Turner murmured while jotting notes on his yellow pad.
"The Brotherhood doesn't operate by reasonable standards," Onegus said.
"The next stage was the establishment of the three-tier system. Level One becomes stable and reproducible. Level Two begins trials. Level Three..." William paused. "Level Three remains problematic. It pushes immortal physiology beyond sustainable limits. The subjects become incredibly strong and fast, but the mental degradation is severe. Paranoia, hallucinations, uncontrollable rage."
"The brain can't handle the overstimulation," Julian explained. "Even immortal neural tissue has limits. Push too hard, and you get cascading failures throughout the nervous system."
"Yet they keep trying," Kian mused. "Which means that either Zhao thinks he can solve it or Navuh doesn't care about the casualties."
"Both," Turner said flatly. "Zhao gets to push the boundaries of his science, and Navuh gets enhanced warriors. The failures are just the cost of progress."
Kian turned to Julian. "You've analyzed the blood samples. What's your opinion?"
Julian pulled up a diagram. "It's genius-level work, to be honest. Zhao created compounds that enhance our already-superior muscle fibers and hyper-stimulate our neural pathways."
"Could you replicate it?" Kian asked.
"Given enough time and test subjects willing to risk their sanity? Possibly. But why would we want that?"
The suspicion in Julian's eyes was insulting. Did he think Kian would ever want to subject any of the Guardians to such horrors?
