Scene #8136: TWINE: Dr. Seabrook

Owner	Pose
James Bond	Commonwealth Protection Facility Codename "Sevenoaks" The route to this world's Warpgate is a closely guarded secret. Reserved primarily for politically sensitive individuals and endangered heads of state, almost the entirety of the world is covered in thick forests. This is visible even through the windows of the complex built around the gate, where you are put through extensive identity verifications ranging from retinal scans to thaumaturgical pattern analysis before being waved through. The 'facility' in question is a small gated community with its own local economy, guarded by Commonwealth peacekeepers and sporting sophisticated automated defenses to complement them. Named for the ring of seven large oak trees that encircle the clearing upon which it's built, the community's 'citizens' are well cared for, even if all of them are largely making the best of a bad situation. Gently rolling emerald hills sport quaint one- and two-storey Cape Cod style homes at the edges of the community, whereas the center, towards most of the businesses, has townhouses in place. Looking at the horizon reveals hints of agricultural development, suggesting that much effort has gone into keeping this place self-sufficient and therefore limiting travel and the resulting attention it draws. Despite the architecture drawing clear influences from contemporary Earth, the way to the doctor's residence on the northern edge of town shows pedestrians going about their days ranging from 'recognizably human' to 'very much not' to 'clearly artificial.' Dr. Seabrook's home is one of the aforementioned two-storey Cape Cod affairs, decidedly more modest than his English country house by a wide margin, with grey brick walls, a teak door with white trim and matching shingles. Modest but hardy, it looks like it could withstand all but the most severe incliment weather, and very possibly direct attack, in a pinch. The interior is undoubtedly something that was arranged ahead of time, as none of the musty old family heirlooms from his Cornwall home are present. Receiving you in the living room, dressed in a grandfatherly blue sweater-vest and pressed slacks, Seabrook has coffee set out in preparation for an extensive set of questions. While the living room is smaller than his former foyer to a considerable degree (not to mention the lack of any waitstaff), it is at least 'cozy' in a way the former couldn't quite manage for all its grandeur. Furniture in earth tones with lines and textiles much more contemporary than his previous abode mixes with a touch of traditional elegance; the very picture of a 'happy medium' between stuffy tradition and iconoclastic modern design. Seating is thankfully just as abundant here, arranged around a glass-top coffee table. Bond stands near, but doesn't sit at, a piano bench before a box piano, tracing his hand over the instrument's wooden frame. He's been here a bit before you, it seems. "The doctor here was just telling me a bit about this procedure. Apparently he wasn't even told the names of the children he did this to." A cold, dispassionate glance towards Seabrook. "And I was specifically instructed not to ask," says the doctor somewhat defensively.
Ishirou	Ishirou, not in combat gear, is here! Beside him floats a flying box with arms, as usual following Ishirou. He sees a nice seat and plops into it, as the box hovers to 'rest' on the arm of the chair. Though it's still floating, so... On the other hand, Ishirou is attempting a quiet biohack, specifically looking at the doctor's memories to try and see if he's lying, holding information back, or contact behind whatever he's explaining. Just in case he's still looking to keep things a secret. "Did they give you a reason not to ask? Do you suspect there was any reason not to ask?" a pause as he considers his next question, "So the procedure was there to just make a super soldier? What else was involved in this procedure?"
Hellwarming Trio	If the location was meant to be a secret, there could certainly be better people to bring along than the trio from a Former Hell. Although Satori is quiet enough and more than capable of keeping her cool even around the more artificial locals (and staring right at them), Utsuho and Rin are far more excitable about pointing out all the things their Master hasn't seen before. Thankfully, they're quieted down with gentle nudges before they can make too much of a nuisance of themselves, and they're even on good behavior by the time Satori leads them into Doctor Seabrook's home. The trio is dressed in their usual blue and pink, white and green, and darker green outfits, and Rin's left her wooden wagon outside of the house so as to not stink up the place. Somehow, all three of them wind up hanging around Bond and the piano. "I thought doctors were supposed were supposed to know about this sort of stuff." "Were ya worried about not likin' what you'd find?" "Fears notwithstanding... Have any others have contacted you about all of this? Not just the other children that this procedure was performed on, but those that directed you or their-" "Bosses?" "Partners?"
James Bond	>Did they give you a reason not to ask? "It was a matter of state security," Seabrook answers Ishirou. This is truthful, according to his probing. "Knowing their names meant one more thing I could tell in..." The old man blinks, then shakes his head and takes a sip of coffee. "Well, in situations exactly like this." Ishirou also picks up on a certain fear--the unspoken threat that violating that trust could mean his life. "I don't know what else was involved in the procedure past my involvement or that of Dr. Moon, before me." This is also truthful. Resting his cup on the saucer before him, he adjusts his glasses, recalling a memory. The year is 1947. Seabrook is twenty-six, fresh out of his academic years in the professional program. Degrees in pharmacology and pharm. D, just barely earned after eight long years of study. He's hardly been working for a year before a man from the government approaches him on the way to his car after work one morning, with an intriguing offer of a job opportunity. "How would you like to serve your country and put those degrees to use at the same time?" They agree to a meeting the following week to discuss particulars. Everything seems like a blur to the young, patriotic doctor. Old enough to remember the Blitz, and having lost family to the very same, the thought of putting his skills to use protecting England was too good to pass up. Just two short months later, he'd be apprenticed under Dr. Bohyun Moon, an immigrant from Korea with a revolutionary drug to guarantee the safety and stability of the western way of life... "We'd see one child, under heavily controlled circumstances, monthly, for seven years at a time or so. Dosing them in small increments with Dr. Moon's formula, until our instruments could guarantee they'd reached a certain developmental stage. Increased bone density and resilience, greater lung capacity." He rattles off a few more: "...higher thresholds for feeling the effects of lactic acid, increased tensile strength and development of muscle mass, etcetera." >What else was involved in the procedure? "After we were sure it 'took,' there was no further interaction with the patient. The orphanage would've kept them on until sixteen." This, too, appears truthful, based on his memories. "From there, boarding school, some funds and a halfway house, I'd imagine." This seems to be conjecture. Bond nods--it seems like that's what he got, anyway. >Have any others contacted you about all of this? Dr. Seabrook shakes his head. "No one," he says. "Not any of the children, not anyone else in the program. My only communication with the program was progress reports, and, of course, my pension. Needless to say," he complains, "That's a thing of the past by now." "Pardon me if I don't shed a tear," Bond dryly retorts. Turning to Utsuho, placing a hand on her shoulder, he answers her question himself. "Doctors are normally supposed to know these things. The fact that it was kept from him, and that he was discouraged from looking into it himself, should tell you that it was privileged information, meant only for people like his superiors. If I'm the only one that ever asked him about it..." Bond's brow knits in concern. "It'd mean a lot of effort went into keeping it compartmentalized."
Lilian Rook	"I was expecting some sort of c-suite fortress to keep anyone quiet, going by the way Bond made that promise. Or perhaps if I were less cynical and more jaded, for a moment, I might've imagined a bunker complex of some sort, warded up and down with the most contrived someone in the Commonwealth could put together, running on military discipline. A good shock to the doctor in either case." Lilian leans against the window, shoulder and temple to the glass, arms folded, staring outside into the forest. It's a bad habit that wouldn't normally be someone one would associate with her, but her focus is on the outdoors anyways. "I like this place, actually." she says. "By looking outside like this, if you didn't know there were a Warpgate not all that far from here . . ." "You could imagine the whole world ended. That everyone else is gone. Wouldn't that be nice?" With a wistful little sigh, Lilian parts from the window. Glancing at her device habitually, her eyes freeze on the no-signal notification for the Nth time, and she smiles just slightly before putting it away. Pacing into the interior of the provided home, Lilian regards Seabrook even less warmly than Bond, and with half the interest. "Now that we're all dead because 'she' killed us." Lilian says, dripping facetiousness. "Well, you might as well tell us whom, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I already know the answer."
Tamamo	The group that goes to visit the doctor likely cuts just such a varied appearance as the inhabitants of this secret town, the three-tailed divine fox among them. It's not so much that she's used to the battery of authentification requirements on entry as that she gives off an air of infinite patience, a bright and warm constancy. Unlike her previous visit in a tailored coat, here she has arrived in her more usual robes of station, lacking only the relic items in her hands to appear ready to pose for the carving of a statue in her likeness at some shrine. This takes up a bit more space in the more humbly sized homes of this area than she had previously, but she can still settle into a chair, regardless of the size. Or settle down without a chair, though she'll refrain from doing that if others are seated at different heights. Decorum, and all that. 'You could imagine the whole world ended. That everyone else is gone. Wouldn't that be nice?' "Oh, would you like a little forest retreat, Lilian? I suppose there are woods on many worlds, and there are some as may agree with us both, as well." 'We'd see one child, under heavily controlled circumstances, monthly, for seven years at a time or so.' "I would wish to know the fates of the children, but that is the wrong question now, is it not? Mr. Bond is no child, after all, but a man well-grown. So are each of those who survived, or so I would expect. Ah, but you would know this, yes? Were all those you saw of the same age, or was there an oldest and a youngest? Even if you did not know their names, you would know this, would you not?"
Ishirou	Ishirou listens, not asking questions or interrupting as he explains himself. Obviously, this isn't how things are supposed to go...but that memory explains a lot of things for him. A young doctor, still high on patriotism after the war that nearly destroyed his home... thought he could do something with his knowledge. Then here we are right now. "What do you know of the formula? Obviously, you don't know everything, but being a man with your degrees and knowledge, and years of progress reports and experience...what would, in your opinion, be...well the start of something like this?" It can't all be completely unknowable /now/. Something that could do all of this. What if they did it to more people? "Also, where these children picked specifically because they were orphans, or did they have some innate compatibility?"
James Bond	>You could imagine the whole world ended. That everyone else is gone. Wouldn't that be nice? James hadn't heard her, having arrived beforehand. There are, however, a small number of people in the Multiverse that could consider him more than just a work friend. People who know him well enough to peer past his cavalier exterior. 'Other people' have kept him going; have been his greatest weakness. No matter how he isolates himself, it's always been the search for warmth from other human beings that's kept him going. Even at his lowest, he's always reassured himself, balmed his fears and anxieties by returning to the open arms of someone he can at least pretend to be close with. The idea of waking up and being truly, irreparably alone is hell to James Bond. "M," he eventually answers Lilian. "Real name unknown. Head of MI6." "I knew her predecessor only briefly," says Seabrook, visibly ill-at-ease for the mention of the name. "And reported to her only when one of her subordinates couldn't see to it themselves. She was professional, courteous as you like. But knowing her is knowing that being a good spymaster is mutually exclusive with being a good person." Seabrook anxiously shifts in his seat. "She's the kind that has no problems sending people to their deaths. And I always got the feeling talking to her that if I were to step too far out of line, make a mistake too costly... it might be me." That would be the unspoken fear Ishirou felt, poking through his memories. "And if it were, she wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it." >I would wish to know the fates of the children, but that is the wrong question now, is it not? Mr. Bond is no child, after all, but a man well-grown. Seabrook shrugs. "As far as the treatment itself, there was a one hundred percent survival rate, so long as it was conducted within the right stage of the patient's life. After that... well, I can't imagine spies have terribly good life expectancies." >Were all those you saw of the same age? Seabrook nods. "Yes, by necessity," he says. "The procedure won't work without side effects if it's begun too late." >What do you know of the formula? What would be the start of all this? "Quite a bit," says Seabrook with a bit of perverse pride that earns him an icy glare from Bond. Deflating in his seet and nervously adjusting his glasses, "It was meant to be a combat drug, for 'super soldiers,' as you put it. Originally developed by Dr. Moon, who intended to use it on willing subjects during her time in the Korean Independence Movement. She found that use on adult subjects at small doses were ineffective; the intended dosage by comparison carried disastrous side effects." He rattles off a few, listing them with his fingers--mental illness, violent tendencies, brain damage, heart defects. "I'm not quite sure how she came to us, other than what she told me--her colleagues in the movement objected to her methods once she started using child subjects." This, too, appears to be truthful. >Were these children picked specifically because they were orphans, or did they have some innate compatibility? "I don't rightly know," says Seabrook. This appears truthful, but he does have some unspoken hypothesis. Perhaps orphans would be easier for M or her predecessor to manipulate, by taking on the role of a parental figure? "I do know that we only ever saw one at a time," he says. "Why that is, I can't say. The difficulty in preparing the drug was in exacting ratios and proper dilution, not supply, so it certainly wasn't an issue of procurement."
Hellwarming Trio	"If you're concerned about making a living, why not find something else to do?" Satori replies as though it's a simple matter, pausing to sip her coffee. Like Bond, she doesn't sound particularly sympathetic. "It's not unheard of for humans your age to find new careers in unexpected fields when things don't work out later in life." Utsuho, at least, still manages to sound eager after Bond's explanation. "So... Whoever was in charge of this whole thing must've been real strong, then." She looks excited for a moment, pauses, then furrows her brow in intense thought. "Or... No. Not strong... Powerful? Like with... Political stuff!" That gets an approving nod from Satori, but Utsuho isn't quite done there as she keeps wracking her brain. "And that's why... This here. And them coming after us when we started digging around in your place." She reasons out, then wrinkle her brow again. "... So why don't we just blow them up?" Rin's mind, meanwhile, goes in another direction entirely as she stares right at the doctor. "This is supposed to be some good suff for makin' humans stronger, right? So why didn't you just use it on yourself and fight back? Heck, you could probably get started on it and give 'em hell yourself, yeah?" "If it was meant to make soldiers of children, I'd assume their supply was tightly restricted to prevent that sort of situation." Satori guesses, having that somewhat confirmed already by Seabrook's answer about its effect on adults and the difficulty in making it properly. Despite trying to sound somewhat detached, though, there's an obvious glare in her eyes as she continues staring right at him. "If you haven't heard anything about other possible survivors, then... What about failures in testing? Were any of the children brought back to you for additional treatment after the first seven years?"
Ishirou	Mm. Children would be easier to mold into the perfect shape, this is not unheard of...in fact that was the basis behind another program that they were familiar with. Though that doctor worked with a lot more integrity than these ones did. The idea that her fellows in what would become North Korea put them at ease given what were capable of. "So simply put, she wanted to do it because she had double downed in this scientific pursuit, regardless of the cost...and not out of any loyalty to anyone but her pursuit," Ishirou muses. "Let me make a guess then, based on what you've told me and what I know. Specifically, these children were used because a family bond could be established between the children and certain leaders." This also gives him some clues...he takes a scan of Bond, looking for specific markers then looking over what could cause this. If it wasn't a supply issue, then it can't be difficult to make. Or the ingredients can't be too rare...or local to both countries. Could he calculate a formula based on this..? Or at least stab in the general direction?
James Bond	>Were any of the children brought back to you for additional treatment after the first seven years? "None," answers Seabrook. Again, this seems truthful. "But Dr. Moon did mention a failure. Or, rather..." His silvery eyebrows twitch, as he recalls. "The project considered him a failure, even if she didn't. The very first subject, in fact. 1914. I never asked her what exactly made him a failure in the eyes of the M of those days, but to hear Dr. Moon tell it, the physiopharmacological aspect was already perfected." >These children were used because a family bond could be established between the children and certain leaders. "Exactly. Orphans make good spies," says Bond to Ishirou, fingers tracing across the ivories. "Alec's one, too. His parents were Lienz Cossacks. I suppose M thought he'd be too young to remember--or she just had that much faith in her skills." He shrugs. "She's very good at making herself out to be a surrogate parent for angry young men. Besides him, I can think of several men I worked with for whom that's the case." >Simply put, she wanted to do it because she had doubled down in this pursuit, not out of any loyalty to anyone. "Yes and no," says Seabrook, now speaking with a more personal tone; similar to how one would talk about a friend. "She had her convictions. A fervent believer in a Korea free of Japanese rule, ardently anti-communist. She had MI6 by the short ones--kept the formula under lock and key, no known relatives to use as blackmail, and made very clear her continued cooperation was entirely contingent on English willingness to fight for a democratic Korea." He pauses, then, reminiscing. "Poor old bird didn't quite get what she wanted," he says with a tasteless chuckle. "But I suppose she's got that in common with more than a few of her countrymen. Half a country's better than none at all, isn't it?" Bond pinches the bridge of his nose. >Ishirou: Reverse engineer the drug Dressed in a business casual affair with a slightly unbuttoned blue dress shirt and matching steel-colored blazer and slacks, Bond isn't exactly making it difficult to scan him. The most movement he makes is when he finally sits on the piano bench. The doctor appears to have been truthful. The issue isn't with supply, but with the narrow window of opportunity for application, the precise mixtures necessary, and safe dilutions for microdosing. Too much of the ingredients affecting muscle mass can stunt the adrenal system; too little of the steroids affecting the body's lactic acid response can cause heart palpitations due to the presence of the other ingredients. Every part of the formula has the chance to adversely effect health; only by precariously balancing all of them could something safe be devised. 'General direction' is the name of the game here. The worst Ishirou has to put up with during the scan is--"Taking an interest in older men, Ishirou?" Bond's incorrigible flirting. Baffled but doing the very English thing of pretending confusing or contrary things don't exist, Seabrook continues. "Yes, well... Dr. Moon did entrust the formula to the program when she retired in 1955, in any case." "You keep calling it a 'program,'" says Bond. "Was there a name you can give us?" Seabrook nods. "Die Another Day, it was called."
Tamamo	'As far as the treatment itself, there was a one hundred percent survival rate, so long as it was conducted within the right stage of the patient's life.' "This much is well." Tamamo takes a sip of her drink, continuing to hold mugs with both hands long after learning of the use of handles. 'I do know that we only ever saw one at a time,' he says. 'Why that is, I can't say.' Tamamo's motions pause, statue-still, for just a moment. "They were not, I see, meant to ever meet. Ah, but of course, such would be true of 'spies.' I have not, to my knowledge, met with many spymasters. At the least, I have not come to know them well. I wonder whether this is true, that any competent in their work must be... less than 'good.' The honor of such work has ever been in question, though its necessity, more rarely so. I wonder, then, whether it would be better to wish a nation have a good spymaster, or a poor one. Oh, but that is quite silly, I suppose."
Hellwarming Trio	"A failure? Huh." "Wonder if we'll ever run into that one." "Eventually, I would imagine. Mysterious things rarely stay hidden for long." "1914, though... That's a long time ago, isn't it? I mean, it's over a-" Before Utsuho can make things weird, Rin and Satori both pull her down and quickly shut her up despite her best efforts to ask how old that child might be. Instead, Rin speaks up while while Satori keeps the hell raven busy. "Soooo. Uh. Doc! How old would that kid be now, anyway?" She asks promptly, not being all that subtle about trying to get the current year despite the earlier scramble. Eventually, though, the animal youkai settle down around the piano bench again. While they distract themselves briefly looking at the piano itself, though, Satori's content to just stay right where she is when Bond takes a seat there. "What a curious name this program has... Fitting, if they were intended to create super soldiers that wouldn't die so easily in battle." Satori pauses, then turns to Bond after getting another chance to think. "Are you the oldest one you know of that might have been a part of this program? It may not hurt to track down the younger members to see if they've adjusted as..." Satori pauses, clearly stopping herself from suggesting that anyone might be well-adjusted. She doesn't finish that sentence, either, just turning to the piano to let it hang awkwardly.
Lilian Rook	'Oh, would you like a little forest retreat, Lilian? I suppose there are woods on many worlds, and there are some as may agree with us both, as well.' "Mmh, that might be nice." says Lilian. "Of course, I'm used to living in one that'd be rather difficult to match, but it's not quite the same when it's home, is it? I suppose Twin Peaks was a little taste of it. A place where society doesn't reach. That's what's nice." 'Real name unknown. Head of MI6.' A smile, more like an apologetic grimace, greets Bond for going first. "My apologies. I was thinking out loud when perhaps I shouldn't be." says Lilian. "It's not an appropriate thing to say when right now we're concerning ourselves with people entangled together by the idea that their world is still worth fighting for." She moves on to Seabrook. "Good person." she all but spits, defusing it into an exasperated huff. "What do any of you know about being a good person? What does being a good person have to do with any of this? You're all glued together by all this paranoia, politics, and murder, because you're all shitty people and you all signed up for this. Don't try to to tell me all about how scary you think that woman is. All that tells me is that you're a shit human who thinks he isn't. I knew the sort of people we were dealing with the instant Bond told me he was leaving." "You've sent plenty of people to their deaths too, haven't you? Not at that exact moment, but years from then. You knew you were doing it. But people like you, all they need is the plausible theoretical that they won't be culpable for anything happening. You really thought that you had the blank round in the firing squad, didn't you?" 'Or... No. Not strong... Powerful? Like with... Political stuff!' "They're the same thing, in the end. Someone who is powerful and smart will surround themselves with other people's strength as their own. The idea of getting them alone and helpless is a fantasy. Even if I had no personal strength whatsoever, you'd never get me that way, at least." 'Let me make a guess then, based on what you've told me and what I know. Specifically, these children were used because a family bond could be established between the children and certain leaders.' Lilian seats herself on the edge of a table, in a different sort of uncharacteristic bad manners. "Army recruiters love sons of single mothers for a reason. Humans are built to accept from parental figures what they wouldn't tolerate from anyone else. To depend on them for needs they wouldn't seek from anyone else. Fucked up adults make fucked up children. Sensible adults make sensible children. Clever adults make obedient children. It's worthy of envy, that you were able to opt out of that part of humanity, you know." 'Half a country's better than none at all, isn't it?' "That's always how you imbeciles end up like this. No country at all is better than a half-assed one. Doing evil for the greater good doesn't mean shit if you can't guarantee the good itself. When nobody benefits, it's your own fault." 'You keep calling it a 'program,' Lilian turns to Bond. "Well, how do you feel? By the sounds of it, you pulled a ticket that the average male only dreams of. You're quite literally built different, and with no known complications. You took the risk of leaving Mi6 without even knowing that. Isn't it a pure positive for you?"
Ishirou	"I think I said this before, but you're not my type Mr. Bond," Ishirou says, closing his eyes and putting things together. "I think I can come up with a guess as to parts of the formula, what it was intended to do and exactly how it was intended to be used. It also makes sense as to why it had to be used on the young..." "With this information, I could probably develop one myself if I wanted, but..." he says looking back towards Bond. "It will at least allow me to figure out if there will be any complications in the future," he says with a soft smile. He turns his head to the doctor, giving him a look. "No, nothing about what you or she did is good," Ishirou says with a frown, staring at him. "He's been honest with us at least," he continues. He looks at Lilian with a helpless shrug. "Maybe not as much as you think, if you remember how we were gaslit into believing we were without emotions. Though maybe it's a little different when it's supposed to be a loved one.." he says with a sigh. "Sorry."
James Bond	>They were not, I see, meant to ever meet. "That would seem to be the case, wouldn't it?" says Bond to Tamamo, leaning forward on the bench, his blue eyes looking not at but past her, at some distant memory. "Perhaps two years ago--I had a dream. Lilian was there. So were you. So was Lowell." He pauses, then looking directly at her. "I'm not sure it was a dream, because I woke up with something from that dream in my hand. Maybe you remember the one I mean. ...I don't know if it reminded me of my own mortality, or if it was tugging at those same parts of me I tried not to look at, but I got the idea in my head to ask M about the 007 before me." Fingers interlaced, he silently searches for words with a furrowed brow before continuing. "She was always good at deflecting. Asked why it was relevant. What was I going to do? Tell her I thought there was foul play because I saw it in a dream?" He drily posits with a smirk. "I still have it lying around at home, and of course I never got any answers from her. If you could take a look at it when we're done, I'd be grateful."
James Bond	>I wonder, then, whether it would be better to wish a nation have a good spymaster, or a poor one. "It depends on whether you want to live there," he says wryly. More seriously, "Knowing who you can trust is everything in this business," he says. "'Trust' doesn't just mean who's loyal, but who's competent. A good spymaster selects for both of those things, and gets rid of someone the moment they aren't both true." There's a shifting on the bench from him--the man looks like he's wanting a cigarette, but thinks better of it for the sake of present company. Taking to standing instead, he paces over to the window and looks out, out of habit. The peaceful quiet of Sevenoaks, disrupted only by passing cars, greets him. "Most people want their countries to have good spies they don't have to hear anything about--or if they have to hear about spies, then they ought to be lionized. These days, it seems like more people are wise to what this life is really about, but whether it's enough to matter, I can't say." >1914... that's a long time ago, isn't it? "For humans, it is," agrees Bond. "It's 1987 now. If that one's still alive, he'd be late seventies, easily." >Are you the oldest one you know of that might have been a part of this program? Bond nods. "I'm the only one I know of, Satori." Turning to face Dr. Seabrook, he then asks: "How many before me, and how many after?" Seabrook removes his glasses, polishing them as a nervous habit moreso than a necessity. "Dr. Moon's first was in 1914. There was a new subject every seven years after that, to ensure you never met each other, as Ms. Tamamo said." The elderly doctor explains, with a gesture towards her using his coffee mug. "If the program is still going, then the newest subject would be about nineteen by now." Bond's eyes narrow. "Old enough to enlist." >All that tells me is that you're a shit human who thinks he isn't. Seabrook twists in his seat like a slug pressed against a microscope slide. Being seen, read, so thoroughly by someone he's met all of twice in his life seems to have a profound effect on him to say the least. "It hurts," says Bond coldly. "Doesn't it." There's no answer from Seabrook but a fidgeting with the collar of his tie and the lifting of a trembling coffee mug to his lips. >Well, how do you feel? Isn't it a pure positive for you? "I don't know." Uncertainty is not familiar territory for Bond. He's a man who could be certain that what he was doing was right, or, at least, certain that he was good at whatever he was doing. But never entirely uncertain of everything. "Having the answers only raises more questions. I can't shake the feeling that I was 'supposed' to have been dead before now, considering the poor bastard after me has probably enlisted. Why me, out of everyone else in that orphanage?" Seabrook doesn't have an answer for Bond, nor for Ishirou's scanning. That, however, is significant--why wouldn't a doctor know? It suggests that the selection process isn't entirely physiological, and raises the question of what other criteria besides 'orphaned children' it entails. "I think Satori has the right idea. Getting to the newest candidate will be difficult--MI6 will almost certainly be keeping an eye on him. Even so, he's one candidate we can guarantee will be alive."
Hellwarming Trio	"The only...? Ah. So not all of the spies you know were in the same program..." Satori nods slowly with that corrected bit of info while Rin gets bored of standing around and wedges herself into the slight bit of bench between Satori and the edge. "If they're keeping everyone apart, then no wonder you didn't meet any of the others. Bet they even figured you'd be dead by the time the next one's ready to get to work, too." Rin concludes, followed by a sharp jab at her ribs from Utsuho. "Didn't have to say it like that. But... Uh. I mean... Well, they'll probably be surprised if they see you showing up to meet the newest one, right?" Utsuho purses her lips, then looks over at Seabrook first. "Do you know where they're working on the newest candidate, then? Or whoever's handling the child injections these days?"
Ishirou	Ishirou frowns as he considers the implications of the young man. He thinks about what might happen if he /doesn't/ enlist..? He pauses, thinking about the implications. "If he is contacted by you, and he doesn't enlist..." he pauses looking at Bond. "They'd try to kill him, and he'd never know peace. They'll keep trying to get him or remove him because he's a super soldier.." "I can also confirm if said person is affected by the treatment based on what I learned today.."
Tamamo	'...but it's not quite the same when it's home, is it?' "There are those homes in which one grows," Tamamo says to Lilian, "and there are those homes that one makes for oneself. There are, as well, those places to which one travels that they might live as guests, but these cannot be homes, after all. The difference is in whether one or another is responsible. You have known at least two of these, yes?" '...with people entangled together by the idea that their world is still worth fighting for.' "All who can fight wish for something deserving the strength of their arms," Tamamo says, gently, looking somewhere else. 'If you could take a look at it when we're done, I'd be grateful.' "Oh, to examine something taken from a dream, is it?" Tamamo's eyes often have that impression of a glow to them. Light not reflected, but shone. Often momentary. Something easily set aside as not having been seen, at all. In any case, her interest is obvious. 'Why me, out of everyone else in that orphanage?' "On this, Mr. Bond," Tamamo says, her voice still soft, yet clear, "I would suggest you think as to what answers might please you, and as to which might displease you. There is meaning in even the smallest of things, but would it be satisfying to know which among these decided your fate? 'Because you stood in front.' 'Because I liked your eyes.' 'Because an oracle told me of the destiny you would fulfill.' Many are the voices that would plead for the last of these over the first. I wonder, would you do the same, or would you wish for the opposite?" She sets down her cup, looking over at Seabrook's fidgeting. It's... not cold. No, she's still warm. Perhaps a foreign and dangerous warmth, but that's the easiest way for her to be. "Ah, but do pardon my curiosity. I cannot help such things. Of course, that you would seek 'an answer' is only reasonable. Any with curiosity would do the same. The more that the world is hidden in darkness, the more we strain our eyes for light."
Lilian Rook	'You have known at least two of these, yes?' "I suppose." Lilian says, in that noncommittal way that means she totally knows exactly how she feels. "But it'd be nice to know the third. 'What if everything else were gone?' always gets me thinking about that. I think I'd want it to be somewhere that I wouldn't have to care about the rest of the world unless I wanted to." 'All who can fight wish for something deserving the strength of their arms' "Too many people think something deserves their strength because they were convinced to fight for it." Lilian hisses quietly. 'Why me, out of everyone else in that orphanage?' "Is that something you need to know, or simply your next lead in trying to find a meaning in it?" Lilian asks Bond. "Adults read all sorts of things into children, most of all how they'll grow up, and they read them like tea leaves and tarot cards. If you were important to them, you wouldn't have been in an orphanage. I'm certain they simply wanted a child whom they could picture becoming the man they wanted him to be." 'I think Satori has the right idea. Getting to the newest candidate will be difficult--MI6 will almost certainly be keeping an eye on him.' Lilian raises an eyebrow. "Difficult, but doable. Even discounting for a minute that everything is doable for me. My question is what you hope to achieve. Do you think you'd listen to yourself now when you were nineteen? How easily would you divorce from your mother and your cause? The one thing you're good at? And furthermore, are you certain you aren't simply projecting your own qualms and anxieties on to him? You're unique amongst the line, aren't you? It wouldn't be a leap to simply consider him a patriot who will gladly die believing in all this."
James Bond	>Do you know where they're working on the newest candidate then? "Since you managed to protect me, M will almost certainly have moved the facility. I know where we were operating--shortly before I retired, we'd moved from Lower Hardres all the way to Bedworth, in Warwickshire. Something about a security concern following a scare with an StB agent." M would almost certainly have relocated again, following Seabrook's capture. However, the doctor isn't finished yet. "My replacement is a Doctor Sandra Westcott. If you decide to look her up, do be sure you're as quick to abscond with her as you were with me." >If he's contacted by you and doesn't enlist, they'll try to kill him. "I know," says Bond. "He probably already has. Lilian wasn't wrong about recruiters and young men, you know," the agent intones solemnly. "I can't deny my own selfish reasons for wanting to find him. But someone I trust very much said that the value of closure depends on how important the question is. The question is... whether or not anything I've done was ever really done by me. Peace or not, that boy would be making his own decisions. You haven't had a peaceful life, either, Ishirou. But you're your own man. Would you trade that for going back to the way things were? Freedom for comfort? Identity for serving your country?" >Many are the voices that would plead for the last of these over the first. I wonder, would you do the same, or wish for the opposite? "The opposite. To grow up in a place like that means years of watching people pass you over. No one wants to 'age out' of an orphanage. But if that's the way it had to be, I'd want it to be because I really was that broken. Because I never would have fit anywhere else." Bond frowns. "The alternative... the 'oracle,' that means someone, somewhere, decided I was never going to have a family or a normal life. That maybe I could have, if someone hadn't taken it from me." He feels his fist tighten at that, fingers tracing against his jacket pocket as he slowly unfurls his fingers. At some point, he'd forced his gaze downward, but he manages to look back up. Something else is on his mind, something he looks to Lilian for as he searches for the words. They don't come. >Do you think you'd listen to yourself now when you were nineteen? "No," Bond says, with the ghost of a smile. "You're talking a lot of sense," he admits, hands now in his pockets. "None of it would be a leap, strictly speaking. I haven't ever met him. Maybe it's all in my head, after all. But I know I'm not 'unique,' at least--" His smile slightly widening, "There was one other 'failure' besides me, after all." "If he wants to die for all this, then it should be because he chose to, not because all the other choices were hidden from him. As for me... whether it's through him, or some other way..." His expression hardens. Turning and heading for the door, "I have to know. Even if it hurts."