The Experimental Journal of Professor Ezekiel Hojo
By
00:73:19, Midgar
Standard Time
It is always dangerous when nature interferes with the miracles of modern scientific progress. Feelings are perhaps the most deadly of all; they can bias experimental results, provide flawed data, and more often than not, they will provide inaccurate conclusions. When feelings interfere, months of research and planning are instantly vanquished. I am passionate about my work, yes, but that passion recognizes its inherent detrimental capacity, and is quickly silenced by this scientist’s need to probe into the truth of all things.
Classical logic dictates that if there is no source of ethereal benevolence, there can be no earthly concept of love. At least, not for those in my line of work. There is no God, but I have my own morals. There is no God, yet I have a love for my work. There is a difference between love and intimacy. My mentor and superior, Professor Gast refused to acknowledge this. In doing so, not only did he remove the experimental subject, the Cetrean Ifalna from the sterile laboratory environment, he also inhibited further study of the JENOVA sequence we were currently deriving from the creature of the same name.
Today, to preserve the interests of science, as well as costs, I killed him. President Shinra agreed: economic philosophy states that time is money, and Gast was selfishly wasting both. I only wanted to restore science to its proper place: out of the hands of the foolish human emotion called “love”. Weeks of energy tracing soon found the Turks and I at the small town atop the Holzoff Cliffs; five minutes later, Gast had been terminated. Somehow, Ifalna escaped. I still am puzzled by her appearance; if she and Gast had a sexual liaison, perhaps her larger belly would indicate a pregnancy. And if so, all is not lost.
The principle Ockham’s Razor dictates that entities should not be multiplied in quantities that exceed the necessity. I had long ago surpassed my mentor in all fields: biological engineering, eugenics, bio-mechanoid prosthetics, cloning; the knowledge of those subjects whose secrets had long escaped Gast was now in my possession. Gast was an unnecessary presence, a presence which inhibited my abilities to take my research farther. And yet, I still owe something to my poor, deceased mentor (well rest, his bleaching bones!); in a few months, Ifalna’s baby will be born. No doubt it will only be half-Cetrean, but that’s of little concern in light of the fact that its mother was an extremely powerful predecessor. She, of course, will be eliminated after we repatriate her child to Shin-Ra laboratories; I have no use for contaminated specimens.