Geneticae Experimenta
“Dr. Faber, subjects Alpha through Mu have been awakened and moved to the eastern corridor near entrance D.”
Dr. Olivia Faber looks up from the main computer console. She spies the camera in the ceiling, the fish eye hooking into her image.
“Thank you, Ralph.”
She opens a glass cabinet and looks through a maze of petri dishes, all labelled with cramped blue writing. Olivia piles them into her duffel bag.
“Ralph, could you please unlock the cages for subjects Nu through Omega?”
“Of course, Dr. Faber.” Ralph says, his voice the usual emotionless monotone.
The line of metal cages hiss, doors swinging open slightly. Ralph turns on the rest of the ceiling lights.
“Thank you, Ralph.”
“Of course, Dr. Faber.”
“And could you wait to send your nightly clock in and out report to Mr. James?”
“Protocol states that the time card report is to be sent in at exactly midnight--”
“I know, I just want you to delay for a couple of hours, please?”
“I can only delay my report for up to one hour, Dr. Faber. It is written into my software that a report must be sent to Mr. James between twelve and one a.m.”
Olivia lifts a tank out of Subject Omega’s cage and Benny leaves slobbery kisses on the glass. His little snow-colored body tries to climb up the glass walls of his home. His perpetual smile reassures Olivia as she puts down the tank.
“Thank you, Ralph. Please, disengage.”
“Yes, Dr. Faber.”
Olivia starts pulling the blue stickers off of Benny’s skin. Red polka dots litter his chest and sides.
“Sorry, buddy. I know this hurts but we’ve got to get this heart monitor off you, we can’t have the company tracking you, now can we?”
She towers over the tank while Benny tries to nibble on her hair. Chestnut wisps stick to his oily, white skin. The doors to the laboratory hiss open. Kevin smoothes out his flannel pajamas shirt and runs a hand over his eyes and through his hair.
“Olivia! I got your message, what’s going on? Why are you here so late?”
“Kevin, I’m glad you could make it. Can you take the salamander tank out to my car please? I’m parked near entrance D. Thanks!”
Olivia pushes the tank into Kevin’s hands. Water sloshes on his shirt as he jumps back. Benny looks up at him and curls into the corner of his tank, pink gills waving happily to Kevin. Olivia shoves the duffel bag across the metal island toward Kevin. The glasses rattle.
“Wait! Olivia, what are you doing? What’s going on?”
Olivia slams a black tote bag on the island. Tissues, notepads, and a tube of lipstick fall on the floor. She slides the manila folder across the island.
“This letter was sent to me last week. I don’t know who it was from. It was about the Raphael Project. Some of the original financial figures, our interview transcripts, original proposals to the United Nations, stuff like that. But something seemed off the entire time I was reading.”
Olivia opens the chrome-colored filing cabinets. The drawer slide crashes against the out-stop and reveals a menagerie of multicolored folders labelled with black, cursive writing. Kevin sets Benny’s tank down on the metal island.
“So, I decided to do a little digging. You know what I realized, Kevin, I really didn’t know much about Daniel James or The Abbott Organization or why he decided to start the Raphael Project. Did you know that when the organization was first formed they produced military weapons, not medical machinery?”
“No, I didn’t, but what does--”
“Or, that Mr. James had quite a colorful life before he went into business? He had a huge police record for battery, assault with a deadly weapon, attempted rape, and a bunch of other stuff that made my skin crawl. He’s not a good man, Kevin. Not like everyone thinks.”
“Olivia, calm down. You’re starting to get hysterical. Here, give me those folders.” Kevin places the flood of folders in her tote bag. “Okay, so Mr. James is just another ruthless business man with a checkered past. It sucks to work for him but remember what we’re trying to do here. To help people survive.”
“But we’re not!” Olivia says. “Mr. James doesn’t care about the world, or the human race, or fighting disease. I think he would be content to just let these super-diseases ravage the planet.”
Kevin moves toward Olivia slowly.
“Then why would he fund a project just to find ways to stop the super-diseases from ravaging the world?”
Salty water drips down Olivia’s cheeks as Kevin cocoons her. His flannel shirt makes a soft tissue.
“We can’t keep doing this, Kevin. It’s wrong. We’re hurting animals and people.”
“Okay, I’ll take a look at the research you found, but I think you’re overreacting. Besides, Mr. James is a pretty powerful person. He has a lot of connections.”
“I don’t care. I’m getting the test subjects out and then I’m going to the press in the morning.”
“Think about this rationally, Olivia!” Kevin pushes her away gently. Kevin picks up the manila folder. “You could be putting yourself in some serious danger. If you’re right, Mr. James won’t want this information to come out. Please, just think about your own safety here.”
“And what about the safety of those people we keep experimenting on? We’re turning into brainless monsters for The Abbott Organization to use like puppets.”
Olivia takes out a tank full of mice from Subject Sigma’s cage.
“What about these little guys, Kevin? Do they deserve to have their organs harvested, limbs cut off, skin scalped, only so we can study their regressive properties? Especially when all that research goes into fuel The Abbott Organization’s plans for a super human army to do God knows what!”
Kevin takes the tank from her and sets it on a metal cart. He grabs the duffel bag and salamander tank, putting them on the cart as well.
“You’re going to help me?”
“You haven’t left me much of a choice. I believe in you Olivia, and if you really think it’s the right thing to do then I’ll help you.” Olivia wraps her arms around him and nestles her chin on his chest.
“Thank you, Kevin.”
“I just want you to be safe.” Eyes closed, he grips her sweatshirt. “I’ll go ahead and put this stuff in your car and drive mine around to entrance D. I’ll put some of the human subjects in mine since it’s bigger. Then I’ll come back up, okay?”
“Okay, I’ve got all the research together we need to save. Now I just need to finish with the animal subjects. I’ll have the planarians and the echinoderms ready when you get back.”
“Great, I’ll see you in about twenty minutes or so.”
Kevin starts to push the metal cart out the door, towards the elevator across the hall.
“Wait! Here, take the evidence with you.” Olivia hands him the manila folder. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks again.”
The elevator dings and Kevin hits the Level 1 button. The doors hisses closed. The Abbott Organization insignia stares back at him.
Olivia throws her name badge and key fob on the metal island, next to a tank of planarians. The clip rattles against the metal and mixes with the sound of machinery. She runs a hand through her hair, catching on multiple knots. Her feet protest as she walks around the lab one final time.
“Well, it looks like you have everything wrapped up nicely, doesn’t it, Dr. Faber?”
Olivia trips over a toppled beaker, landing against the main computer console. Daniel James raises his eyebrows.
“What are you doing here so late, Dr. Faber? You don’t usually work nights or Sundays,” Mr. James says as he starts to walk towards her. “Are you looking for something?”
“No, Mr. James. I was, I mean I--”
“Well, then what are you doing here so late? Looking through files, destroying things, removing the test subjects.”
“Oh. I was, ju
st, um. How did you know I was here?”
“Didn’t Ralph come overhead and tell you? It’s approximately,” he looks at his watch. “one-twenty one in the morning.”
Mr. James fixes the sleeve of his white collared shirt, his heels click towards Olivia. She backs up towards the wall.
“I was here, to get some extra work done, that’s all.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“I see.
“What are you doing here, Mr. James?”
“Well, checking on you, of course. See a little bird told me that you received some troubling documents the other day.”
Olivia feels the cold, tan wall behind her back. Mr. James’ shoes stop tapping.
“Now I’m sure you realize that, with all the backing I’ve received from various world leaders, I can’t have you going to the press with all your crazy ideas.”
“I don’t understand--”
“I believe you’re beginning to though.” Mr. James pushes her hair behind one of her ears. “I don’t care about the state of the world, or how the other countries are going to survive all these plagues. I care about my organization and the money we can make from these failing economies though. While the U.S. builds strong, resistant soldiers the rest of the world declines more and more. What type of business man would I be if I didn’t take advantage of that?”
“But I thought you were going to spread the research and solutions around the world?”
“Really? You scientists don’t understand the world of business at all, do you?”
Mr. James looks down at Olivia, his chest brushing hers.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Well, it’s not like you’re going to be going to tell anyone now, is it?”
Olivia furrows her eyebrows and says, “But why not--”
His heavy hand leaves sweat on her cheek, on top of a large red mark. He pushes her down and kicks her in the stomach. Olivia tries to crawl away, towards the door.
“I apologize, my dear, but I cannot let you leak this to the Press.”
Mr. James stands back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small revolver.
Aiming it at Olivia’s head, he says, “It would be bad for business.”
The gunshot echoes through the empty lab.
About the Author
Courtney Wallace is a short story author and novelist whose writing walks the more mysterious and cadaverous side of life. She is earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Courtney writes fiction to give ridiculous and unconventional answers to life's more conventional questions. You can visit her on her linked in page.
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