In the Beginning

A hand stretched out from a smooth white coat, rubbing a hairy arm with a damp cloth. The hand retracted, then brought forth a syringe. Opaque liquid spritzed from the tip of the needle.

For a brief moment, the hand held still, letting curious eyes examine it in the sterile glow of the lab. The liquid shimmered in the bleached light, a mechanical glowing of sorts. Another hand joined the procession, carrying with it a transponder. “Test code M-0318, patient showing patterns of enhanced intelligence, particularly cognitive plasticity. Patient is approximately ideal. Injecting now, time 13:05,” the hands reached forwards, stroked the hairy arm, then plunged in the needle.

Muscles quivered up along the arm as bulging veins accepted the foreign substance. The eyes widened, staring as its wispy orange hairs stood on end. The mass of fluid pumped upwards, enticing the eyes, as it wormed its way to the shoulder and climbed up the neck, disappearing into the base of the skull.

“Injection successful, nothing abnormal as of yet – abnormal…” the voice trailed off. The curious eyes watched as the white coated creature’s hands fiddled with the recorder and other devices. Facial muscles twitched; the eyes narrowed, glaring at the hands. Teeth chattered. Eyelids widened. Nostrils flared. Limbs shook. The hands reached out and shined a bright light, revealing gradually bloodening eyes.

“43 seconds, physiological degradation. Injecting neutralizer,” the hand raised another glinting needle.

The shaking quelled as the serum wound its way up. The eyes dulled and the lids gradually shut; a gray dribble shimmered as it ran from the nose below, betraying the glint of micro-machines.

“77 seconds. Test concluded.” The hands unshackled the limbs, then hoisted up the subject’s limp body. With the scan of a finger, a door slid open; the relative silence of the laboratory gave way to the faint moans of similarly hairy creatures. The hands coldly passed by rows of cages, ignoring outstretched arms slipped through bars, only paying heed to the labels above them. Upon reaching 0318, he unlatched the lock, then deposited the subject into the cage’s metallic embrace.

The researcher locked the cell then headed for the door. He stopped at the sanitizing station to cleanse his hands from contact with the unclean. Remembering some quote about dust, he blinked his eyes and noticed how tired he was after another monotonous day of testing. “Abnormal…” he muttered, transfixed as the water spiraled off down into the drain.

“Nothing good comes from the dust; death and decay spring forth, foreboding the imminent doom and damnation. Starved, the plebeians run amok; scrambling, they strive to avoid their well-earned fate; fighting, as they draw their final breaths and think their final thoughts. Though they resist and beg for freedom, they slip further into the hole they dug for themselves… no assistance shall I provide… this is life, and that – is death. For all to be right, nothing must be left…”

Jebediah stood at the front of the auditorium of the university. He paced back and forth in front of the crowd of young, “eager eyes”, reading from a contrastingly ancient book.

“And thence ends the final quotation of the personal accounts of Truman, that maggot hailed as the prophet of the skimpies. As he turned his key, he plunged the founding world into darkness, ushering in the new age of surprisingly rapid technological advancement,” Jebediah shut the book and placed it delicately onto his lectern. “Thence concludes today’s lecture, any questions?”

“Hey professo-”

“Director,” Jebediah interrupted, adamant that he is to be addressed with the respect he is due.

“Director, I really don’t see… how this relates to anything at all.”

“To understand where we are today, we must first look back on where we were yesterday, and the days before that,” he explained ‘sagely’, “The nuclear apocalypse of the atomic age was an atrocity, surely, but yet here we are today. Intersystemic unity, learnt from the mistakes of the past – this book is one of the few remaining pieces of that past. Smuggled aboard a freighter by some brave soul willing to risk his life for us future generations. Once our great founders of civilization left the planet, they symbolically discarded everything; the books, the films, the art, even the coordinates, leaving the “Earth” behind for a better future amongst the stars.”

The slam of a door reverberated throughout the amphitheater. “Yeah, we should have learned from those guys, and left you behind to die on Skimptarius,” a figure from the back of the lecture hall called.

“Director, you’ve been to Ski-”

Annoyed, Jebediah shouted back, “Really want to dredge up that past? I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I should have left you to the dogs!”

Another figure appeared beside the first figure at the far end, “I should have left the both of you behind ages ago, and yet here we are. Move along ding-dong, no point in yelling.”

The two figures made their way down the central isle, “If I wanna yell, I’m GONNA YELL!”

“Alright everyone,” Jebediah announced as the students glanced at the two intruders in confusion, “Now that my incorrigible companions are here, everyone please grab your gear and get outta here. Oh, and like always you weasels, the assigned readings are posted on Easel.”

“Didn’t know you still did this gig, with how busy we are and all,” the first figure pointed and looked around as they reached the stage.

“Ever heard of a hobby Isaiah?”

“Eh, they come and go,” Isaiah responded, slightly chuckling as he watched the last of the students trickle out through the doors.

“And with that, come on let’s go,” Samuel cut in, a rushed look on his face, “We need you back at the lab. Immediately.”

“Couldn’t you have paged me?”

“Transponders ain’t safe nowadays, you know that. Who knows who could be listening,” Samuel glanced around the room, then leaned in, “We’ve got a live one. Preparations are almost complete.”

“Dazai is waiting,” Isaiah piped in, a fictional reference ignored and unnoticed.

“Well then what are we standing around here for,” Jebediah snatched up his bag and rushed up the aisle; Samuel and Isaiah followed, struggling to keep pace.

Departing from the lecture hall, they made their way to the station. Weaving through the thicket of students, Isaiah and Samuel resisted the temptation of catching Jebediah up on the situation at hand, though Jeb already knew all of the implications of what they had told him. Upon reaching the station, he flashed his ID at an employee. In a matter of moments, they had boarded a private shuttle and had risen into the air, zipping through the skyrises, towers, scrapers, and twisted rises of the city towards Conglomerate Headquarters.

“The federacy won’t even allow for the initial stages, testing chipping on chimps, let alone humans,” Isaiah grumbled.

“Human rights violations and all that,” Samuel replied as he sipped on some beverage dispensed from the console of the shuttle, “I can somewhat understand, but they really should let us test them on monkeys like you.”

“Can’t imagine what they’d do if they hear- wait what’d you just say???”

“Quiet,” Jebediah turned from the window to glare at the two, “We may discuss such things later. Not the name-calling I mean, I mean the other… stuff.”

“Well what else are we supposed to talk about? Your history stuff?”

“Well, we are making history right now…” Samuel commented.

“Just look out the window you two.”

Soon enough the headquarters came into view, a black scarab amidst the twiggy nest of the skyscrapers. The shuttle looped around and found its way to the docking bay of the enormous infrastructure, weaved around a few departing and arriving shuttles, and gracefully slid to a rest. Upon landing, Jebediah leaped out the door and b-lined out of the hanger.

“Greetings Director! Welcome back!” An overly excentric receptionist greeted the three as they came in through the front entrance of the docking bay.

“Greetings Samuel.” “Welcome back Isaiah.” Two tall imposing overly buff black suited men standing one on each side of the receptionist echoed.

“Thank you,” Jebediah replied as he fumbled forth an ID badge from his bag and swiped it against a scanner.

Beep.

“Security clearance recognized.” “Please proceed.” The two men nodded, yet the trio had already rushed by them and were now proceeding down the long hallway.

Door after door they passed, weaving their way deeper into the corporate labyrinth. Access code after fingerprint recognition after retinal scan they passed. Boarding an omnidirectional elevator, they descended; Section A… section B… section C… an electronic voice hummed, and a display panel flashed with each passing. With one last ID confirmation, the elevator doors swung open, depositing the trio at Section X, the deepest level in the maze of the building; few knew it existed, even fewer had access.

A team of researchers greeted them as soon as they clambered out of the elevator, “We await your orders director.”

“Vitals?” Jebediah demanded.

“Living, but barely. Stabilized, but nonetheless we should proceed as soon as possible.”

“Take me to it.”

“Right away sir,” the researchers paved the way down the hall.

“How long’s he been on ice?”

One of the researchers glanced back and pointed at Isaiah as they walked. “Just got him from some guy this morning. Pulled up on me on my way in, thought he was gonna try something on me; gave me the chills. Anyways, got back here then rushed to you with Samuel, so about nine,” Isaiah said. The researchers continued to lead Jebediah, Isaiah, and Samuel down the hall until they reached a door of pure iridonium. The trio fitted themselves with winter coats and thick gloves as the researchers scanned their thumbprints against the recognition system, beeping after every scan. The door clicked, then unlatched. Pwshhhhh. The door hissed as it slid open.

“After you.”

Jebediah stepped gently into the cold embrace of the laboratory; his feet swallowed by the coolant mist as he stepped down the stairs. The others followed him, steps muffled amidst the mist; their breaths solidifying into an icy fog, as they exhaled with each step. Jeb strode forward to an icy monolith in the middle of the lab. The researchers fanned out behind him, each heading to their own control panel station as Jebediah, Isaiah, and Samuel came to a halt in front of a frozen pillar.

“What are the readings,” Jebediah demanded.

“Internal temp, 3.3 kelvin; exterior, 77 kelvin,” one of the scientists read, his face flashed green from the monitors in the chill blue.

“Fifty-two half-lives remaining, the decontaminants are proliferating,” another read, “Prepare for stabilization.”

The dull hum of machines infiltrated the atmosphere. The monitors flash-beeped in their cultic circle.

“Preparatory sequences have completed. He is ready.”

“Sub-injectors are a go.”

“The time has finally come,” Jebediah raised a glove and wiped it against the crystalline surface of the pillar, wiping away the fog, “It is ready.”

Samuel and Isaiah peered in from beside him. “To think we’d get our hands on a deregistered,” Isaiah sighed, his breath re-fogged the crystal glass.

“Not too close,” Jebediah waved them back.

Isaiah backed off, shivering from the gleam in his eyes.

Samuel gripped his black satchel and fingered his personal doctrine of The Commandments of Intersystemic Unity, as he once again weighed the conflictions, and consequences, of his- of their decision. “This is the point of no return Jebediah… once we do this…”

“There never was a point of return.” Jebediah glared at him, “Begin. Synthesization.” The monitors beeped their final tune. The monolith roared. Metal flashed from within, as the fine manipulators stripped and sutured, redacted and replaced. Jebediah’s eyes were transfixed on the frozen face, “Nothing good comes from the dust… for all to be right, nothing must be left…”