Welcome to Gaia! ::

A brow quirked. The retort from Jan was one of minor irritation to Maximillian. His creations were, to the last, unique in their beauty. To insult them to callously, when each had its own clearly formed personality and characteristics...each of them was alive, not some simple puppet. Perhaps further down the road the slight would need be avenged. For now, procedure dictated the process.

In the examination room, Lauren listened quite intently. When Jan spoke of an accident, she nodded with keen awareness of what such matters could entail. A lack of personal experience did not deny accurate speculation.

"You will be provided with food and drink in due time, Mr. Hendrek. Of that I can promise you. I apologize for being unable to offer you such immediately. So, Lady Roan was injured in a horse accident? Would you kindly describe this accident? What sort of wound was it, and what did the horse do to cause it?"

The questioning would last for hours on end. In the end, Jan would get no food, no drink. IVs would be hooked up in their stead, providing him with all the sustenance he would need intravenously. To allow him pause to eat or drink would break the questions, which pursued whatever topic he would speak of. Even so, periodically oddball queries would be slipped in, asking for more pertinent information. She was not trying to break him, merely to assess him. His every response was already being run over with a fine toothed comb to speculate upon productive methods of interrogation and examination, they only needed the raw input to use.

"You are afforded no common courtesies, Mr. Hendrik. As you no doubt can see, these are not common circumstance."

It had been only a handful of hours since they had begun, and already he had adopted a stubborn silence. Lauren continued to speak to him, attempting to illicit responses. Even if he did not speak, his expressions would still be worth something. She would review the extensive knowledge of the Clan's history the facility already possessed, pressing him to fill in the gaps. When Jan demanded water, he would find that he was ignored completely. He would not be permitted any pause from the examination, even one so innocent as a drink. It was known that he possessed all the nourishment he would need, in the form of the IV drips.

With the hourly reports turning up a stagnation of procedure, the consensus came. Phase two of the examination would be bypassed, in favor of phase three. With a smooth push, the bench jerked free from the struts that held it place. The wheeled legs allowed it to glide free, permitting the scientists to transport their subject to the next chamber without risk of escape. In this next room was a series of large machines, one of which looked like it would serve to hold Jan's head still for the contraption that hung over it like a gleaming chrome and glass halo.

"Sadly, Mr. Hendrek, your stubbornness is forcing us to breach protocol and expedite your movement down the chain of procedure. It has been most enlightening speaking with you."

And with that, Lauren left the room. Another scientist, this time a man, would take her place. He would be questioning Jan in her place, using similar methods. The difference would come in the form of encouraging his answers. It was well within Jan's range of vision that the surgical tools were drawn and inspected by the practiced surgeons called to the level for just this purpose. The long minutes after the machines hummed to life would allow him to dwell on just what would be done with these implements...

Notes of his confidence were recorded and processed. Within his own chambers, Maximillian was almost ready to concede a sense of pride in the old butler. Such conviction made for a marvelous specimen...when Bane was done with him, certainly Max would need to...examine...him further, the the inevitable conclusion, consumption, and creation.

In the examination room, the process had begun anew. The initial questions were much the same, and the process would follow suit...except that as Jan began to speak with his inherited stubbornness, the surgeons began making minute incisions on his neck. No anesthetic was administered as the blades began to peel skin away and part tissue. It was only a small, burrowing sting; Jan would endure. But then, after an hour of questioning, the methods began to intensify. An usual device was probed into the open cut. It was incredibly fine, and exceptionally articulate. A moment's resistance, and suddenly shooting up Jan's leg was a terrible pain that wracked his muscles. It was as a sudden wounding with a heated knife, focused around a single point. Whatever this device was, it was tapping into his central nervous system.

The questioning remained quite light, though it took on a more Pavlovian aspect as each lack of cooperation warranted immediate retribution.

All the while, the mechanized halo wove its spell, reading information as it maintained a constant scan of the poor butler's brain. The data was displayed in a different room, where literally a dozen brilliant minds churned through every detail in turn.

It was not just pain Jan suffered. A whole wealth of stimuli the likes of which could range from intense cold to intense heat, from pain to pleasure and everything in between. Arms, legs, fingers, toes, they were simulating every sensation conceivable to every part of his body with systematic efficiency.

It went on for another several hours. Then, tactics changed. The moments of silence were "rewarded". Plastic bags borne with crimson colored contents were presented. The scent was unmistakable, Jan's addiction would know it from any circumstance.

They were going to deny him his need. Silence was rewarded with his fix, and screams were rewarded with more sensory overload.

All in the name of data collection. They had yet to truly begin with the interrogation.

The sudden change was quite remarkable, and prompted great deals of speculation among the scientists. They ran over the basic press Jan had for the recreated vitae. It was rapidly discovered that this provided a far more rewarding means of behavioral modification by base means.

Bane would have his report, noting that they were ahead of schedule. Jan had provided a wealth of information. With the studies in his physiology and psychology proving quite thorough, the chemical therapy would be incredibly effective.

And then...then they would have everything.

Jan would be grilled for information constantly. There would be no rest, no breaks. When his body was tired, he was subjected to hypnotherapy, to coax answers from him even as he slept.

In the end, it was almost too easy. There was ample data to enact the fourth phase, which was the chemical treatment and proper interrogation. It went swiftly, meaning the fifth and most difficult stage would have ample time to be enacted properly.

The NGF treatment was the first of its kind to be administered the butler. There were more in store. This was the tricky part; normally this process would take weeks of careful processing to insure that the subject was up to incredibly exacting specifications. To speed it up to the timeframe that was mandated was like pushing a thumbtack into a bulletin board...with a sledgehammer. It would be a FAST process, but there were extraordinary risks involved that required the most tender of care, and the most delicate of finesse.

Chemical treatments would ensure that Jan was totally compliant the whole procedure through. In the meantime, noninvasive techniques were utilized; mental conditioning through intense hypnotherapy and strenuous psychological imprinting. Only half a dozen staff were involved, beyond the section head. They were the best of the best in their field; all the better to guarantee quality results. Some of the final touches were even visited upon by an individual of far higher standing than mere scientist...psychoactive measures were taken beyond simple science to insure that the scientific means of not only removing the old memories of the trauma, but implanting new ones in its place to patch the gaps in time were seamless. Attention to detail was paramount; even the slightest fault and the mind would grind through the seam in time, ruining everything. Bane was right, after all; the DeSeer kids were not to be trifled with. The charade would need to be flawless. Nothing less would suffice.

It would take three intense, unbroken days of constant cajoling, drugging, and mindbending to justify Jan's release. By the end of those three, his physical body was in its normal, uninjured condition. No scars remained of the visit, no memories. Jan was unconscious, and would remain so until those in power over his mind wished him to awaken. Then...he would be free to go to Roan, and to live as if nothing had ever happened.