(July 6, 2004/2217)

MavBerlin - Laboratory/Medical Center

One of the most well-lit areas of the underground base, this series of laboratories are in a black marble hallway, each sealed off with a heavy, blast-proof door. With little variation, the half-dozen or so labs contain similar equipment: large sterile tables, racks of electronic equipment, and computer systems with backups tied to the Maverick mainframe just down the hallway. A larger door in the back of the hall allows entry to Dr. Doppler's personal laboratory: usually sealed tight during important experiments.

Bass [Bass] [RM] Bass' Cage

Wire Sponge's Pickle Jar <WSPJ> Repair Labs Minifridge

MedLab Computer Core <MCC> Vile's Laboratory <VL>

Infinity's Weapons Lab <IWL> Spike's Laboratory

Repair Chamber Dr. Doppler's Laboratory [#4892 Ten]

West <W> leads to MavBerlin - Computer Core.

Eisensturm arrives from the Computer Core.

Eisensturm has arrived.

If you are here for Medical Services, please use the following command with as much detail as possible. This will allow MedSci to better serve your needs:

+checkin <Reason>

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver raps to DMX... with alternate Lyrics. Rock's gon' give it to ya. "You guys need to relax."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "It's just a Russian thing. We always play roughly with those we care for."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Do you ever step back and think to yourself, 'hey, I just shot a guy on my side in his digestive system, and I'm praising him for not immediately going into shock and dying!'."

[Radio: (D) Public] Durandal transmits, "...you must really care for Glaive, then."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "I think this is about three notches past "play", Pfil."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan sighs. "Pamela. Not Pfil."

[Radio: (D) Public] Denise Marmalade transmits, "Play... roughly?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "You have to understand, dear, that we enhanced humans can stand up to much, much more than the ordinary sort.""

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Yeah, but are all your troops hopped up on this stuff when you shoot them? And you're still made out of, you know, complex and interdependent meat."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "We aren't hopped up on anything."

[Radio: (D) Public] Denise Marmalade transmits, "Yeah. I've seen you fight."

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver transmits, "Evening Miss Marmalade!"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "And yes, I am made of meat. But it's replaceable meat. I mean, when I fought with dear, sweet Ballade, he incinerated all of my skin and good portion of my muscle mass. But I was out of medical in two days."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "That's a neat trick."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "I don't drown or freeze, either."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, ".. so why do so many people 'accept' that we're different?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Accept what huh now?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Like the Coalition."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "What about the Mavericks now?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Why the hangup on human or robotic. I've seen way too much of one emulating the other."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "It's just species competing. Evolution and all."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan's radio transmits a roar. "... Fluffy's gotten out again. Oh dear."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan OOC idles for dinner.

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver transmits, "We're really not all that different once you get past the whole 'how-we're-made' bit."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, ".. Fluf---er, no, I won't ask.."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Actually, no."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Hell, I'm a reploid, and I'm an -artist-. That's not a robot trait, that's a human trait."

[Radio: (D) Public] Overclock transmits, "Why can't that be a reploid trait?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Oh come /on/. After the war's over, you'll stop with all this whining about 'oh we're robots', 'oh we're humans'."

[Radio: (D) Public] Overclock transmits, "Crystal Snail's an artist."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "And so am I."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "I just don't picture things based on emotion being... how do I say it..."

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver transmits, "Mavericks wouldn't even be so bad, if they could get over the 'kill all humans' mentality and ditch their damned superiority complex."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade rolls her eyes, audibly. "What do you want, a cookie? Your stupid art isn't going to save you. Unless you're hoping for bonus virgins in the afterlife or something."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Who said it was going to save me?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Dr. Doppler speaks in halting English. "What is wrong with art?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Overclock transmits, "Nothing is."

[Radio] Tightbeam radio transmission: Overclock says, "Sorry about Wire."

Overclock arrives from the Computer Core.

Overclock has arrived.

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Nothing's /wrong/ with it, but it isn't like you get some kind of happy magical huggiehuggie power from being able to do a painting OK."

[Radio: (D) Public] Dr. Doppler transmits, "Art has its own power."

[Radio] Tightbeam radio transmission to Overclock: Dr. Doppler merely grumbles.

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade says, "Oh, right. Like France!" And then an unpleasant little cackle. "Oh wait - /what/ France?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "What little training I got from the Repliforce before it went under will have to do as far as 'saving me' is concerned--Doppler! Ah.. hm.. well, no, nothing's wrong with it, as I said earlier, I'm a Reploid and I have it, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that the division between human and reploid is a lot harder to discern than you might think, as you're trying to apply it."

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver transmits, "No doubt! Look at Bill and Ted! The whole message that movie had was the power of Music! If you can get past the stupidity, anyway."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "I like music."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "No, it's easy. Reploids have a neural net dealiebob, and it's harder to break than a human brain. Reploids are also generally harder to kill, although that, you know, isn't a /big/ difference. It's like balsa wood versus plywood."

[Radio] Tightbeam radio transmission: Overclock says, "What's your status...need me to check up on you? I think it's that time."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "So then what is Leviathan, if she could be stripped of all her skin and muscle and not just survive but be back on her feet within two days?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Jonathan Moriarty transmits, "A miracle of modern science?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "She's a little punk with a big mouth. It didn't get stripped off, it got burned. She's probably on heavy drugs, so she didn't notice."

[Radio: (D) Public] Jonathan Moriarty transmits, "And, a user of particularly groovy painkillers."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "On the one hand, she has a brain and not a neural net. On the other hand, she's as tough as a Reploid. So now it's just neural net versus brain."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "Humanity has always defined itself largely in terms of the will to survive."

The doors to medbay swish open, though Doppler barely waits long enough for them to part before storming in. Eisensturm trails behind him, ears lowered, teeth partially bared in a half-snarl. Though still hobbled, the doctor walks with as much purpose as he can, heading through the medical area in the direction of the science labs.

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "No, she isn't. If you cut off both a reploid's arms, the reploid will whine and struggle, and if you cut off both her arms, she'd probably bleed to death real fast."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "...which is what everyone fights for.."

[Radio: (D) Public] Jonathan Moriarty transmits, "There is the issue of gradual evolution versus intelligent design. Unless you're religious, in which case it's design by God versus design by man."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Would that make the Mavericks just as 'human'?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Jonathan Moriarty transmits, "But then the human brain doesn't shut down when someone EMPs it."

[Radio: (D) Public] Overclock transmits, "It's an insult."

Bass is back in his cage, placed there by Sigma. The Buster is once again aimed at his head, arms and legs restrained. The weird viral glow continues to radiate from his armor. His eyes flicker between a viral green and a weird salmon pink color. Every once in a while, he twitches.

[Radio: (D) Public] Jet Stingray transmits, "I see the idea of just talking this over a beer and a movie is still out of the question."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "I can't get either, Jet. That's why. *groan*"

[Radio: (D) Public] Silver transmits, "DUDE!!! Jet Stingray! I /LOVE/ your show, man!!"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Hi, Jet. - Why are you trying to justify the Mavericks to everyone? Are you ending up like what's her face?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "Yes, I believe so, miss. Reploids resemble humanity by humanity's intent. They created us in their own image."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "I'm trying to -understand- them."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "I can explain them, very easily. Are you listening?"

Overclock is...looking for Doppler. Not for Bass. He wanders into this area looking around, since, it seems like the Doctor has wandered from his Skydeck post, and this is a fairly logical place to locate his patient.

But he's surprised, actually, to see Bass is there, and it makes him pause, and glance at the glowing thing in in the cage. He can't help but stare.

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "If it were that simple I would have taken it straight from their mo--err, vocabulators."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "...Mavericks are scary. Sigma wants me to hurt people. I think he wants me to go away, just like the other voices. That's why I have to be really quiet."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "I need to understand it for -myself- before I'm satisfied."

[Radio: (D) Public] Gemini Man transmits, "...Say what?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade continues anyway. "A bunch of reploids, possibly due to some kind of virus that makes them into creepy serial killers, realized that they didn't want to get slaughtered by /us/, which is what reploids are, you know, /for/. So now they're huddling around their five or six super-warriors, desperately hoping that this stupid virus is going to soften everyone up for their miserable little selves to be able to 'win'. Because they didn't have the brains to /leave us alone/."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Good, you tried to understand it for me. That doesn't work."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "If you're looking for a reason to join them, just go to Berlin. Just don't try to walk from uber-Germany."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Hell no!"

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "Sometimes they get mad at me, and shock me, and make the other voices scream. Yesterday another voice went away. Forte said he'd protect me, but he isn't as strong as the monster..."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "And she complains -I- have a big mouth."

Dr. Doppler notices Bass on his way past in a vague sort of way, the same as one notices a brightly colored flowerpot on an otherwise drab shelf. However, intent has narrowed his vision, leaving room for only thing: the door at the farthest end of the medbay, the one emblazoned with his personal sigil. Eisensturm whines, trying to get its master's attention, to no avail.

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "Ah, there you are."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "... Why are you whispering, whoever that is?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Actually, if you ripped my arms off, I would bleed, but I doubt I'd scream. Ask Vile some time. He and I have mauled each other often."

[Radio: (D) Public] Jet Stingray transmits, "Ladies, ladies, ladies. Beautiful artificial angels shouldn't fight so."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "...Jet, that's just..."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "Wow, good job Jet."

[Radio: (D) Public] Jonathan Moriarty transmits, "Whereas I'd just stand there and kick the person who removed my arms."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "It might hear me. The monster is somewhere else right now ... but it hears things."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Jet, you are a dear. But I will always fight. I love combat."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "C'mon, Bass, you're stronger than this."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Concerned are we, Daryn?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Jet Stingray transmits, "Then fight the jerks then. You know, like Sigma. No one likes him."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade says "Ha ha ha" again, without actually laughing. "Great. The world's first human Maverick. Now be quiet, grown ups are talking." A pause. Then, somewhat more seriously, "Th--" A strangled noise. "... Is this a joke?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Working on that, Jet."

Bass doesn't do a whole lot in his cage. He hasn't had a violent screaming fit for at least 12 hours. Still, there's a pretty wide no-mans land around the cage that none of the medics will get near. Not after Medic Mouse got that nasty scare.

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "I'm afraid of the monster. It ... it can kill us, and not even Daddy could do that. Or Miss Tron...where is Miss Tron? Why won't she help me?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Oh dear..."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "'cos she's afraid of Sigma and is bleeding incompetent."

Overclock takes one step into that no-mans-land, curious...then stops, as he sees Doppler heading in, heading for his lab. He turns away from Bass now, and walks, double-time, in Doppler's direction, en route to intercept him, it seems. "There you are. Was looking for you."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Be quiet, Daryn, or you will make me cross."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "No more witticisms, then, Serenade?"

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "What did I say that was so offensive? Tron's untrustworthy no matter who she works for and will always be a failure."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Tron may be a pirate, but I find her more trustworthy and competetant than you./"

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper, "...please, help me."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "Leviathan, shut your hole. *lowers her voice* Try to hold out. We..."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "If I can help you, dear, I will."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn says cheerfully, "Okay, miss."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "Red Alert can help you, sir."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, a little louder. "What's Red Alert?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade stops, and makes a tense noise. "... Treble misses you," she finally says. "We're taking care of him." She actually sounds sort-of-helpless.

Dr. Doppler is hardly moving quickly. His balance is still off, and he relies heavily upon his cane to support him. Even so, he continues to walk forward even when Overclock tries to get his attention. "< What? >" he states more than asks, not even bothering with English.

Eisensturm whines again, but does not interfere with either its master or with its master's chief physician.

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "We are new friends. Miss Bonne has hired us to help her and her family."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "Miss Bonne is afraid of the monster. She does not want to show herself. But I am not afraid."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper. "...you should be..."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "I don't believe that."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Perhaps I should aid you, Red."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "I have seen the monster and what it is capable of. I cannot fight it on my own but I will not submit to fear, I will not let down Miss Bonne. The safety of her family is most important."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "At last check, human flesh doesn't contract the Sigma Virus."

[Radio: (D) Public] Denise Marmalade transmits, "TRON hired you?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "I don't think he needs to get shot in the /stomach/, Pfil."

[Radio: (D) Public] Hailstorm Eagle transmits, "... ah, that's true..."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper. "Can you ... can you tell her something for me, mister?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Serenade, you'd be amusing if you weren't so mannish."

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn mutters, "Lies, lies, lies."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "Certainly, sir. What would you like me to tell her?"

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade rolls her eyes again. It's audible somehow. Possibly the same reason that blinking makes a 'bink' sound.

[Radio: (D) Public] Red replies to Daryn, "Yes, sir. Is it so surprising? Miss Bonne's family fortune is no secret and we do good work."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red replies to Denise rather, not Daryn.

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper. "That 'm sorry for not being strong. She wanted me to be strong, and keep Him from coming back, but He came back ... and he hurt her, and hurt people, and Mega Man. Sigma ... the monster ... might make me hurt people, and I'm *scared*, and I'm sorry..."

[Radio: (D) Public] Slash Man assumes you said ma'am, too?

[Radio: (D) Public] The Book of Daryn transmits, "Don't believe she could be as subtle as to hire someone else to do her work."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red (right, right)

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "It's all right. This isn't your fault. You'll get out of this soon. If not by Red Alert's hands, then perhaps Serenade's or mine."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade takes a deep breath, and lets it out. And then says, "Do you know where you are?" in a surprisingly soft tone.

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne transmits, in a whisper. "I ... I ... in a cage, in a bright room, with a black floor. Sometimes the bad robots come to look at me."

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "It's not your fault, you didn't make the monster come back. But we all need to be safe from the monster until we are strong enough to fight it."

[Radio: (D) Public] Serenade transmits, "We're - looking for you. Hold on."

[Radio: (D) Public] Fairy Leviathan transmits, "Serenade. Godspeed, and get him out of there."

[Radio: (D) Public] Khan Bonne doesn't respond. His signal slowly fades from the network in a soft hiss of static.

Overclock hears that word, and, definitely hears the tone. "Just wondering where you were heading." Overclock makes... a fair roadblock, as he steps between the doctor and his lab, though he's trying not to look like he's blocking him on purpose.

The pink gradually leaves Bass' optics, the viral green refilling them like water being poured into an empty glass. His face twitches -- you'd swear he smiled.

[Radio: (D) Public] Red transmits, "I need to talk to you privately about Miss Bonne, sir. My personal frequency is ****, please transmit yours."

It should be quite obvious as to where Doppler is heading. Else why would Overclock be moving in that direction? However, since the question deserves a more verbal answer, the doctor provides it. "< My lab. >" He stops, at least for the moment, resting both hands upon his cane. Eisensturm moves to his side, ears still pinned back but no longer quite snarling.

Overclock's German is getting better, and that's still clear enough to him. "You want me to get you anything out of there?" Overclock asks. "It's better if you're up in the air, but it's all right for you to keep your mind stimulated."

Overclock wishes Sigma was around, which is a wish he has never really had prior to this.

There are times when father and son can be strikingly similiar. The glare of distinct irritation given to Overclock by Doppler has been mirrored in Sigma's visage more than once. "< I am /quite/ capable of getting it myself. >" he states.

Eisensturm splits its attention between Overclock and Bass. The former is in closer proximity to Doppler, but the latter is considered the greater threat.

Overclock squints. Listens. Shakes his head. 'myself,' okay. He shakes his head again, this more emphatically. "I... won't stop you if it's something you need, but, at least tell me." From what Wire said, he has reason to be concerned.

Bass radiates an eerie viral glow. Occasionally he twitches against his restraints, but not hard enough to really test them.

Eisensturm snarls at Bass, moving a pace closer to Doppler in a protective gesture. So long as he remains restrained, it does no more than that.

Doppler sighs irritably, forcing himself to remember his English. "Something...thing unfinished."

It's against his judgement...kind of. But on the other hand, Overclock feels like he has to be careful meddling in the affairs of dragons. He sighs, and takes a step to the side. "Okay. This is about Sigma. Isn't it?"

Now that his path is no longer blocked, Doppler hobbles forward again. "Ja." That word should at least be clear. His gaze is no longer on Overclock, it again turning toward the door to his private lab. After a moment and one last growl at Bass, Eisensturm follows.

Overclock takes another step toward the door... apparently, he wants to follow Doppler in, unless he's blocked from it. At the very least, he doesn't want to lose track of him. There's always the chance of a relapse.

So long as Overclock does not stand in his way or otherwise does not interfere, Doppler allows him to accompany him. His expression reverts to one of single-minded determination. It is in part to carry him across the bay to the door, and in part to face what lies beyond it. The only other obstacle in his way is the door itself. Its keypad lock is stared at furiously for a moment as he attempts to recall the proper passcode. A small, trifling thing, but one that stymies him.

That is, until Eisensturm noses his way past Doppler (and Overclock, depending on how close he's standing to them). The mechanical canine likewise stares at the closed door for a moment, then leans up and scratches and whines at the door in an imitation of its organic counterparts.

After a few seconds, the door opens automatically.

Overclock frowns at this display, because it's hard to watch Doppler struggle. But, he gives the dog some room, and steps back when the door opens. At least it's open. It was never really locked.

Eisensturm enters first, taking up its usual position under the the main lab table. Doppler follows, the lights flickering on automatically as the sensors detect motion.

The lab itself is in a state of chaos at rest, if such a thing exists. Racks upon racks of assembly tools are left in disarray, bins of componants sit open on the floor, tables, and shelves. The main screen and every other available inch of wall space have printed schematics tacked to them. One need only glance at them to tell for whom they are meant. The only things missing are the few items requested by Doppler for his loft: the desk chair, drafting table, and his personal sleeping chamber.

Overclock walks in and takes position near the door, crossing his arms, and waiting to see what Doppler found so important that he had to go for it: right now, in his condition. He has a suspicion, however, it has something to do with the virus.

Which is quite pleasant, all things considered, when you get used to it.

Dr. Doppler makes a direct beeline toward his desk. The top of the closest stack is rifled through, the things for which he is not looking are pitched hapzardly aside. The man is driven to the exclusion of all else, including tidiness. Not that it was ever his strong point. The second stack is likewise looked through until he finds at least some of which he has been searching. A case of datacrystals are held up so that he can read the label, and is then pocketed. This continues on for several minutes, unless interrupted.

Overclock walks across the room slowly now, as the doctor searches frantically. "Any way I can help?" he asks. No, he probably doesn't understand the Virus information, if that's what Doppler is looking for, but he still doesn't want Doppler to drive himself mad.

--der.

Dr. Doppler's sanity has always been in question, but at least there has always been method in it. Another case of datacrystals is pocketed, and an old-style electronic writing pad (one that must be at least two decades past SOTA) is claimed from the pile as well. These seem to satisfy him, at least for a moment. Then, his gaze turns to one of the enclosed cabinets on the opposite side of the room, the one designed to be as close to inert, non-electric-conductive and anti-static as possible. Setting the pad on the table, he hobbles over to it, but does not open it. Instead, he makes sure the doors are firmly sealed and locked.

Overclock watches this impassively. Unsurprised that he didn't get an answer, he still tries again. "Doctor Doppler. What's on the disks?" Colliquolism. No matter what form of data-transfer device is in use, some people still call them disks.

Dr. Doppler finally realizes he's being addressed. Satisfied that no one has tampered with the cabinet, he turns toward the table and Overclock. "Research. Designs." They are the best words he can muster in English. "I made him...re-made him..." he continues as he hobbles over to pick up the writing pad.

"Sigma's designs. Right. Did...something happen? Something go wrong?" Overclock did wonder...why Sigma didn't seem FINISHED, but that didn't really matter too much anymore. It was a cool look, a really cool look.

If only Doppler knew.

He stands there for a moment, supported by his cane. The room is surprisingly quiet without the usual hum of machinery. One of the scematics tacked to the wall catches his eye, and he stares at it for a long moment. "I remade him," he repeats. "More than Double, more than...than the others. I brought him back."

Overclock thought about that for a second. Maybe the English was wrong. But, no, Doppler must have said what he meant. "Back. You... Can you DO that?" But apparently, he could. So, stupid question.

The language barrier prevents Doppler from any detailed explanation. "My...my triumph," he says, a hint of that old exuberance reaching his eyes. Then all too quickly it fades. "He was perfect," he says, hobbling back in the direction of the door. "He must be perfect. I will /make/ him perfect."

"Just...don't... over work yourself. If you do, you'll be worse than when you started. And..." Overclock walks all the way across the room, now, looking Doppler in the eye. "TALK to him. He has a way of making things seem pretty clear."

Dr. Doppler meets Overclock with another glare. "How long?" he snaps. "< How long have you known? >" he demands, slipping into German without consciously realizing the shift. "< How long have they been like this?! >"

From outside the lab, Bass breaks into rolling laughter.

[Radio: (D) Public] Gatts transmits, "A short, yet shrill screech is heard, but is abruptly cut off. A voice whispers. "Oops. That's not a button I want to push.""

[Radio: (D) Public] Gatts transmits, "OOC: cries. Retcon. Mis. Whatever."

[Radio: (D) Public] A warped voice transmits, "Remember. Red button, not blue."

[Radio: (D) Public] Krieger Wolf transmits, "Why do you even /have/ a scream button, anyway?"

[Radio: (D) Public] The whispered voice transmits, "Sorry, I--" He catches himself, then gives himself volume and a deeper pitch, trying to be somewhat heroic but still sounding fake. "Erm, I was just given this radio by...someone."

"When Sigma brought Bass in. He...." Overclock taps the back of his head. "He touched me. I guess that's the way to put it. That's when. That's how long. The news says..." Overclock looks away, to the side of the lab. "On the news they say he's... a virus. I watched them talk about it."

Please. Don't have another stroke.

Dr. Doppler would turn his furious glare on Bass, except that the captive is not within his line of sight. Instead, Overclock remains its victim. "< No one told me. No. one. TOLD. me! Am I not still Viceroy?! Am I not still his creator?! Tell me! >"

Bass keeps laughing, having a spasmatic fit in his cage. The metal groans and shudders from his gyrations, fit to make the floor shudder.

German German German! Angry German yelling! Overclock stumbles backward...toward the door, as Doppler gets very upset with him.

(No one. Told. .... Creator. Tell me.)

"I don't KNOW!" Overclock gets over the feeling of being off-balance, at least, after he makes a translation. "STAY CALM!" The surgeon doesn't follow his own advice. "It's better if Sigma tells you. A LOT better. ANYWAY, I'm telling you, all right? Anything I CAN."

Eisensturm slinks out from under the table, whining quietly. It, however, knows better than to interfere. The most it does is move to a pace or two behind Doppler, to protect him from himself if need be.

Doppler hobbles forward, not matching Overclock's scrambling pace to the open doorway. He does not calm, but neither does his fury grow. "< Then find my son, >" he commands. "< I want to see him. >"

Overclock understands. He accepts the command, and takes a deep breath, trying not to have the kind of systems reaction that will cause him to break something. "< I will do what I can do. >"

Dr. Doppler continues out of the room at his hobbling pace, turning his baleful glare upon Wily's Perfect Son. Some small, rational voice at the back of his mind questions why Albert has not called to raise holy terror yet. That voice is for the moment ignored. "< And why do you laugh? >" he demands of Bass.

Bass keeps laughing until Dr. Doppler addresses him. With some effort, he turns his head toward him, one eye staring down the Buster, the other viral eye free to look at the doctor. He grins perversely, the voice of Viral Bass responding:

< "He will have you," > he says, in German. < "He will /devour/ you." >

Overclock walks out of Doppler's lab area and halts near the entrance, catching most of what Bass just said. But... "You.. make it sound like a bad thing."

Dr. Doppler positively glowers at Bass, an expression that more befits the son than the father. The fingers on his right hand tremble more noticably, before he curls them into a fist. "< He. Is. My. Son. I will /find/ what has gone wrong, and I will /fix/ it! And you, automaton, will be sent home in six different boxes! >"

Viral Bass starts laughing again, the green circuitry pattern on his body radiating brighter.

Overclock puts a hand on Doppler's shoulder... trying to be careful about this, not pushy. "You.... need to go back to the loft, and look at your disks. You want coffee? Anything?" Reduced to coffee-fetcher,maybe...this is one circuimstance where the still-bloodthirsty Maverick does not really care.

Amp has already beaten Overclock to that task. She brought him a coffeemaker.

Doppler turns the baleful glare back on Overclock. "< Find my son, >" he repeats, brushing the offending hand from his shoulder. With that, he turns and slowly makes his way back to the outer doors.

"< I will, >" says Overclock, hoping he can make good on that promise. Then, he steps back, and lets Doppler go. He's not going to force the doctor into doing something he doesn't want to do. Only make him well again.