The events I am about to share, I saw in the hidden recordings my father kept. I will relate them in as much honest detail as I can.

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My father’s office was much as I had seen it in previous recordings. One of the special assistants I had seen frequently in the house moved into the range of the camera. I knew he was not one of the regular staff. I didn’t even know his name. I knew all of the regular servants and slaves by name. We would greet each other when passing in the halls (if my father was not present).

My father spoke without looking up from the screens he was reading from, “And why are you here instead of in your lab, where you should be?”

The slender man in a white coat, used by lab technicians and researchers, wore. “I am sorry, Lord Dothstaire. I was looking through the logs of the pods that were used to heal your son, Solan, and the boy Slaith. I have found… anomalies.”

My father paused in his reading and looked directly at the smaller man. The man’s thinning, black hair did not conceal the sweat that was beading on his scalp. After a pause, as the Lord glared at him, “And what kind of ‘Anomalies’ did you find?”

“Lord, in the case of Slaith, everything in the records indicates that the boy started out normal. Over time, many of his attributes were enhanced, just as we planned. Some of the anomalies we have seen in your son have also been observed in Slaith, only to a lesser degree,” the man patiently related in a voice that almost hid his shaking.

The Lord again paused. “So, I am to expect that my son is the subject of your concern, correct?” he asked.

The little man could not meet the stare of his lord and master. “Lord, as you suspected, parts of the prefrontal cortex of the boy were abnormally active. A specific region in that part of his brain, which is usually inactive and somewhat vestigial in normal subjects, was enlarged and active, but not enough to be disturbing.”

“Since you remind me that we had already suspected something of this nature from the beginning of this project, why are you taking up my time?” my father asked in a severe voice.

The man paled visibly. “Let me show you a scan of his brain after the genetic modifications you ordered,” said the scared little man as he passed a data storage crystal to the man who could easily have him killed and disposed of at a whim. 

“These show that the activity in that section of the frontal lobe increased a great deal. The sections that are normally vestigial have become even larger and more active. Our data shows that this section was responsible for abnormal levels of lack of self-interest.”

The lord loaded up the data crystal and began looking over the information. “And what does this mean for our experiment?”

“Lord, he is clinically altered. I feel he was already different due to his mother’s genetics. When you modified his DNA, those differences were reinforced. The changes may bring him into a state of failing the genetic purity standards if he is tested in enough detail. That may give the throne sufficient cause to declare him unfit and confiscate your properties,” he stammered out with what little emotional strength he had left.

“I see. So, my son has an abnormal brain that may cause him to act in ways contrary to his own interests. The abnormalities worry you that he may end up undermining our position. Is all of this correct?” the Lord asked.

“That would be the source of my concern. We need to reverse the gene modifications to your son before they can be discovered. Unfortunately, correcting his abnormal brain may lead to damage that could be problematic. His intellect could suffer degradation. If we use surgical methods to make his brain more normal is also significantly risky.”

“No,” said the Lord with finality. “We can work on getting the other subjects ready to replace Solan, should he be discovered. Use the data we have collected up to this point to improve the results. In the meantime, I will have to reach out to some parties who can become motivated to help us if the need arises.”

“There is another factor, Lord. I have been looking over the reports of Solan’s behavior since he went to the Cloisters. I fear that the changes have not finished being expressed. He may still be changing. His mental stability may be permanently compromised.”

My father looked at the trembling man with disdain, “I see. From what I have seen from the reports, my son has become very effective in controlling to situation and removing obstacles. I will make contingency plans and prepare damage control. For now, we will produce documentation that he is entirely compliant with genetic regulations. I will do the political side of things. I need you to produce the ‘modified’ test results for me to make sure they are in place.

“Now, get back to the lab and prepare what I have asked for.” My father turned back to his screens, and the particular record ended.