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"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: Humor, Crack, Pseudoscience Pairings: none Summary: Never underestimate OZ. "Masterminds " The notion of life after death was never more repugnant than when Treize’s body was excavated from his tomb and laid out on the steel table in the hopes that the ragtag group of OZ survivors and sympathizers could reanimate it. Une had forgotten how vile the smell of death was. She unfurled her cravat and pressed the cream colored silk against her nose and mouth, desperately trying not to barf up her pasta salad lunch. She observed the turncoat, Doctor J, with sharp eyes as he sliced open the dead man’s arteries to drain out the formaldehyde. “And just what are you planning to use for blood?” Her voice, though tinged with disgust was muffled as she spoke through the fabric she held over her face. Doctor J’s tongue poked out from between yellow teeth as he worked. “We have an abundance of his blood left over in cold storage that he saved in case he needed it and we are able to clone his DNA cells to synthesize more.” Une grunted in acknowledgement, a little miffed that she hadn’t known that. “And then what?” Doctor J placed a tiny plastic tube into the small slit in the side of Treize’s neck. Attached to the other end of the tube was a machine and when Une leaned over the table to look beneath it, she could see at least a dozen clear plastic bags filled with blood. Doctor J pressed a small button at the base of the machine and grinned like a shark when it hummed to life. She watched the blood rise up the tube and disappear into Treize’s body with a sense of morbid fascination. “What about his brain?” Zechs asked from beside her. A quick glance revealed that he’d also pulled out his cravat to protect his nose and mouth against the stench of rotting flesh. Doctor J held up a narrow syringe, half full with a yellow liquid that made Une absurdly think of piss. “My own little secret ingredient. Concocted by the most brilliant of minds that I -” “Just tell us what it is, Doctor. No need for theatrics.” The mad scientist grumbled and popped the cap off the needle. “It generates new, living cells when it comes in contact with dead ones. Everything from blood, to skin, to hair, to bone, to internal organs. I will use this pump to start the artificial heart I’ve implanted into his chest. Once it’s circulating the blood I’m putting into him, I will inject him with this.” He grinned and swiped his hand in front of the syringe in a manner reminiscent of a spokes model, his yellow teeth gleaming under the bright surgical light that hung overhead. “It will pump through his bloodstream and create living flesh, organs, skin, you name it. Including his brain.” “He won’t stink then?” Asked Zechs, elegant brows raised in question. Une scoffed and shot him a heated glare. “Have some respect, you pompous pouf.” “Says the woman who’s just as grossed out as I am.” She sniffed. “You are such a -” “Shut up, both of you,” J snapped. He dragged a finger delicately along the line of thick stitches that ran the length of Treize’s chest in a manner that was rather creepy. “In a moment, I will start the heart and then I will inject him with this,” he swiped his hand in front of the syringe again. “Will you stop that? You’re not peddling your abomination of a…of a…dead bringer backer.” “Is that the scientific term, Colonel?” Zechs simpered. Une valiantly suppressed the urge to smack him. J started up the pump and flipped on a large monitor that was mounted on the wall. “There it is. Look at that. Beautiful.” The artificial heart was pumping away, looking exactly like its organic replica. Zechs rubbed his cravat against his nose, his voice nasally when he asked, “Where did you get that thing?” J shrugged and popped a toothpick into his mouth. “Ebay. Free shipping.” He watched the monitor for another moment, then turned back around and picked up the syringe. “Alright, everything’s a go. Prepare to watch the magic happen.” He savagely plunged the needle into Treize’s chest, hard enough to make both Une and Zechs cringe when they heard the needle pierce through bone. J pressed the plunger down and the piss yellow liquid disappeared into the dead commander. J wasn’t kidding when he said ‘watch the magic happen’. It was truly a sight to behold. The pasty, wrinkled, sloughed skin began to glow a faint pink, then tightened and plumped. The color gradually began to resemble that of a living person. Treize’s dull, limp hair also seemed to spring up with new life. In less than five minutes, the dead man looked as alive as the lab’s living occupants. Une reached out and brushed her finger along his arm and gasped at the feel of warm, living flesh. “That’s…amazing!” She couldn’t believe the old quack had actually done it. J preened under the praise. It wasn’t every day Une was impressed by something, so this was an accomplishment. The Colonel and Lieutenant both jumped back in alarm when a loud hiss escaped from Treize’s mouth. J held up his hand. “Relax. He’s just breathing.” He paused, seeming to realize what he said. He lifted his head, his bizarre little goggles glinting under the harsh light. “He’s…breathing,” he said again, his voice hushed with awe. Une and Zechs watched with arched brows as the mad scientist raised his arms high into the air, threw his head back and shouted, “He’s breathing! He’s…alive! You hear that, Professor G? I beat you! You owe me five thousand credits, you frizzy haired prick!”
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