Synopsis: When a genetics engineering technician is shown the fruits of his labor by his boss, the respected Dr. Freedman, he is suddenly conflicted by his own moral and ethical opinions and the reasons and moral corruption of his superiors.

Author's Note: This story idea was first created by  thebeast76. He made the basic plot, but, the rest of it was done by me. This is a rather strange story that, honestly, I didn't think I would do, but honestly was pretty alright to write. If you like the more science-y and medical-y stuff, than you will definitely enjoy this. Either way, no matter what, I think you'll definitely love this story. Enjoy and peace out.
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I’m not a God fearing man, my friend. Although I was raised Catholic, I have given up the whole religion thing about the time I started elementary school, and solidified by atheism during high school. Not that I hate religion, I’m just saying that I, myself, am not a religious person. But, despite the lack of religion, I am still a moral and ethical man.
It’s a real predicament; I must tell you that, my friend. When somebody does not hold onto some sort of religious teachings, others can see them as very bad people, especially in more conservative areas and less in others. But it is even a large contradiction to me when you consider that I studied to be a genetic engineer in college.
I spend four years and got my undergraduate degree from Temple University. Near the top of my class, I almost expected to get a six figure salary-paying job immediately out of college. Boy was I surprised when I didn’t. I ended up roaming around the city, working odd jobs and searching through the papers for anything that would allow me to work in the field that I had studied to work in.
Finally, after nearly three months of working as a short-order chef in a diner down on 110th Street, I was offered a position with Omnitech, a conglomerate company that focuses in robotics, electronics, automotive as well as medical research and other areas of strange, pseudo-science stuff. But, it was a good, high-paying job and I was glad to accept it.
When I arrived at the building for my orientation and my first day’s work, I was introduced to a man named Doctor Paul Freedman. A highly respected and extremely intelligent man, Freedman stands at a stout five foot six inches, is entering his fifties and is slowly losing most of his brown hair while gaining pounds around the waist. When he saw me, Dr. Freedman was happy to have me on board.
I was paired up with several other technicians, which is what they called the entry-level lackeys that did most of the grunt work in the Omnitech facilities just outside of Philadelphia, to work on some more menial tasks. There must have been about five of us working on genetic coding, DNA bonding as well as the structure differences and similarities of the DNA helixes of the house mouse and the human being.
Dr. Freedman, who was overseeing most of the work, would often disappear back into a room in the very far reaches of the facility. The technicians who have been working there for a very slim amount of time weren’t allowed back in those rooms, which must have been about half of the facility. I would watch the doctor come and go, check up on us, correct any possible miscalculation and then disappear back into the nether reaches of the metal building with his arms clasped behind his back.
For nearly six months I toiled in the main room with the other technicians. We were decoding DNA and inputting it into a large supercomputer that was owned by Omnitech and was nearly as big as a room but had five times the thinking capacity of the human brain. Nobody explained to us what any of this was for, but, the money was too good for any of us to care.
I was able to buy a large house, two cars and a TV for every room in my house. I must have been making easily ninety-five thousand a year. The reason that I say nearly is because every month they would give out a pay raise or a bonus to all the technicians, which, obviously made everybody happy. I didn’t question why they were doing this at the time. I was too happy and blind to care.
Finally after six months of menial work with reasons that we were doing it that were so confusing that I finally ceased to ask why, the Doctor came out of his room in the back. The technicians and I were putting the last bits of information into the console that represented the supercomputer that was in another room. It was the last of the work that we needed to do before our six month task would be complete.
Dr. Freedman strolled out of the back, out a strange mist that followed him as a metal door receded into the wall. It was really science fiction-y, but, because I had been there for six months, and had seen similar stuff in every grocery store I’ve ever been to, I wasn’t impressed. He was smiling a strange smile hidden by a small goatee. I couldn’t see his eyes because of a glare off of his glasses.
All the technicians had stopped their work to observe their boss entering the room. We were all ready to leave for the night anyways, so, we just figured that we had another bonus coming or a raise. Everybody was smiling, their hands in their lab coats, already taking off their protective gear as all the dangerous equipment was put away.
Freedman strolled into the middle of the room and stopped walking. He looked over everybody and smiled even wider. Drawing his hands from out of his pocket, he waved to the other five technicians, who were close to the door out. I was standing near a table away from the entrance door.
“Mrs. Boyd wants to see you all up in her office. I smell another bonus coming on for all your hard work.” Dr. Freedman announced happily.
The five technicians cheered and pumped their fists. I did too. I needed some money to pay to have the engine out of my favorite car rebuilt. They high fived each other and then began towards the door, to hang their coats up. I put down the small vials in their proper place and began to cross the room myself, ready to go get some free cash from the people upstairs, like it was Halloween again this year.
But halfway across the room, Dr. Freedman stopped me. He cleared his throat, which grabbed my attention, but, I didn’t stop walking. Finally he reaches out towards me and motions his arms.
“Oh, Mr. Louis, not you,” Dr. Freedman says, happily still. “I’ve got something special in store for you, my best and oldest technician.”
I stopped walking and turned my body to look at him. He was smiling wide as the Grand Canyon, so I figured that there was no harm in going with him. The benevolent old man couldn’t bring harm to any person, it’s absolutely impossible. Besides, he was my employer. There’s nothing that he could do that I couldn’t get him in trouble before. Besides, he was half my size and half my weight.
“Is there something wrong, Dr. Freedman?” I asked him, not suspecting a think.
He shook his head and sunk his hands back into his pockets.
“Oh, no, Mr. Louis, not a thing could be wrong!” Dr. Freedman said. “I just wanted you to stay a few minutes longer because there is something special that I wanted to show you. If you’ll just walk this way, I’ll show you.”
Dr. Freedman turned and began back up the long hallway that led back into the private, restricted sector of the underground work environment. I quickly sprinted to him and then slowed my pace to a casual walk when I was beside him. Walking exactly as he was, I sunk my hands into my pockets and looked down at him.
“Dr. Freedman, I’m not allowed back here.” I told him as we walked.
He laughed. “Oh, of course you are, Mr. Louis, you are because I say you are.” Dr. Freedman said heartily. “What I want to show you is very special to me and I didn’t want to spoil it with the eyes of every employee working on this floor.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“I mean,” He continued, “that this is the product of all your hard work out on the technician’s floor, Mr. Louis.”
I couldn’t believe it, I was finally being shown what we were working for, what we could possibly toil for day after day, week after week, month after month for! I was hoping to see this all after some time, but, not in the way that I was about to have it exhibited to me. Dr. Freedman just walked forward at a normal pace as if this were casual, repeatable routine.
We walked back through the airlock, but, it didn’t close behind us. All the other employees had gone upstairs anyways, so, why lock a door that nobody will use? Going down a long, metal hallway, we strolled back towards a large door opened to a huge room. But, from this distance, I couldn’t see a thing that was inside.
“Mr. Louis, I have been fascinated with genetic science ever since I was a little boy, studying in England.” Dr. Freedman began to say. “I was absolutely enthralled with the possibility of improving human life through the sharing and benefiting of the mingling of human, plant and animal DNA.” He said DNA one slow word at a time.
“Yes, Dr. Freedman.” I said to let him know I was listening.
“When I and my family came to America, I found my chance to pursue my dream of being a genetic engineer.” Dr. Freedman continued. “Omnitech quickly offered me almost limitless funds and materials to pursue my goals. I have been working for nearly fifteen years on this project, Mr. Louis. And I am proud to say that with the help of students from around the country, such as you, Mr. Louis, it is finally complete.”
I was flattered that he considered me one of the best students in the country. Honestly, it showed by the way that he and his company were paying me. Although I was only salaried at about ninety-five thousand a year, I must have raked in over two-hundred thousand, American.
“I imagined what human life, and the human body, would be like if we combined animal DNA,” once again punctuating each letter, “with human DNA to overwrite the terrible pieces that limit us and keep us mortal.” Freedman said. “Well, I think I have the product, Mr. Louis, of my dream. In this room, old sport, is the end product.”
We entered the room at the very end of the hallway and immediately I turned my eyes onto a large area in the very center. The area was covered and blocked off by a white curtain up on rollers, like the kind separating beds in a hospital room. Two other men stood in the room, a fat one and a skinny one, both white, both short, both mean-looking.
I stopped walking just inside the door, where some leftover pieces of metal and such were strewn upon the floor like trash. It was obviously just waste from the pursuits of Dr. Freedman’s dream. Freedman marched out in front of me; his arms crossed behind his back, and went to the curtain. The two bouncer-like men in hospital-like scrubs stepped aside gently.
He turned towards me and smiled, his eyes still hidden behind a glare from the fluorescent lighting and glare from the metal walls. He smiled wider and wider by the second, but, I wasn’t focused on him. My eyes were focused on the curtain. I swore that I could have spotted something moving behind it. It was bothering me, but, I made no indication of such.
“Let me present to you, Mr. Louis, Product XR-27.” Dr. Freedman said.
Stepping to the side, he turned and reached up with a single hand. In one swift motion, he pulled aside the curtain and presented to me what I have been working on helping him with for over six months. And before I could think, my eyebrows went up, my jaw dropped open and I quickly began to stare.
Inside was what appeared to have once been a young woman. She was sitting upon a cold, metal table and was covered only by an off-green set of scrubs. With arctic, bone white fur and large, pink ears, a tail and a black nose, she huddled up against herself and made a slight chirping noise.
She appeared to be both a woman and a mouse at the same time; a terrible amalgamation of both, a Frankenstein monster in a modern man’s world. She was human in her stance, how she could stand upon two legs, with her arms and hands to grasp, and her head and eyes that looked forward. Yet at the same time she had white fur, a long tail, claws and pads, paws for feet, large mouse ears, a muzzle and button nose, and no hair on her head. She seemed to hate her condition about as much as I came to.
My stomach began to turn over inside my body, screaming with hate and fear. But the hate and fear wasn’t for her, but for Dr. Freedman. He had used an American Corporation’s money and the time and effort of dozens, if not hundreds, of unknowing American scientists to do this. And he was standing there smiling, proud of himself, as if he deserved a medal.
“What do you think, Mr. Louis?” Dr. Freedman asked.
I was breathing slowly, terribly slowly, unable to close my mouth. My hands were shaking and my stomach was still full of butterflies. My heart was heavy and my feet felt like they were encased in concrete. I remember shaking my head side to side, my eyes still pinned upon the mouse girl.
“What have you done?” I asked him, slowly, quietly.
“I have only created the next step in human evolution, Louis North.” Dr. Freedman replied, not angry at all. “I have made sure to create a perfect being, a mix of man and beast, with the strengths of both and the flaws of neither. What I’ve done is—”
“You’ve made a monster.” I quickly said, interrupting his monologue. “That’s what you’ve done. You’ve wasted money and the time and effort of many good men and women . . . to make this. And what did she think? Do you even care? I bet she thinks she’s a monster.”
“She should be proud!” Dr. Freedman yelled, now angry. “She is now something that only fiction writers could possibly make! She should be proud to play a crucial part in the next step of human evolution!”
“No, you should be ashamed. Ashamed that you think you can play God.” I said, turning my eyes towards him and his bouncers, who were ready to strike me. “I’m not a religious man, but, I see the stupidity in your actions. You think you’re all powerful because you can use and abuse modern technologies where Mary Shelley’s Dr. Frankenstein did not have. And I believe it will end the same way.”
“Quiet your mouth, you little pest!” He yelled at me. “If you do not believe in me, then I don’t need you or your kind around anymore! Boys, get him!”
He swung a pointed finger at me and suddenly the two bouncers were upon me. Running and yelling, their arms up in the air, they charged at me like linebackers for the Steelers. But what they failed to notice was my free left hand reaching down for a piece of pipe, probably to a centrifuge, that was lying on the ground beside me.
As the first of the duo neared me, I pulled the pipe free and swung it upwards in one, clean motion. Striking him quickly upon the face, blood splattered and soon the hulking man-beast was down on the ground. The second of the two, the skinnier one, was not even slowed by my previous actions. In a quick backhand, I struck him in the head and then hit him again in the forehead. He went down, most likely dead.
A loud screaming sound hit my ears and I looked up to see Dr. Freedman charging at me with a hypodermic needle filled to bursting with an orange liquid. He stabbed downwards at me like it was a knife and I slipped to the side. I was on the fencing team at Temple and he was obviously an idiot in a fight.
With his arm downwards, he cried out again and swing upwards in the hopes of hitting me on the rebound. Catching his weak arm with my right hand, I lifted and brought down the pipe onto his upper arm. He cried and released the needle, letting it clink to the ground harmlessly.
He was still screaming in pain and agony when I lifted the pipe again and did a number on his balding head, making sure he’d never do such a thing again. Dropping the pipe, I turned towards the mouse girl, who mustn’t have seen a thing in the room. She was still sitting on the table, motionless, twitching and moaning in obvious pain.
I turned and knelt beside the body of Dr. Frankenstein and lifted the needle before a trickle of his blood could mark it. Turning around, I walked back towards the table where the girl was sitting, writhing in the pain caused obviously by the beating of her own heart, the running of her own blood, the production of thoughts, her very existence.
Stepping directly beside the table, I reached out and touched her leg. She jumped and immediately grabbed my arm with both hands. She turned her eyes towards me and looked me over, surprised that I was here. Her eyes were glazed over like she was either blind or so unfocused and out of touch that her mind was already far gone.
“I’m not going to harm you anymore, and neither will the good doctor.” I said.
She began making chirping, gasping sounds and then let my arm go. Turning her body, she re-embraced her body and began to rock back and forth. Her face was soft and natural, but I could see the pain she was enduring. Lifting the needle up, I reached out and touched her shoulder.
The girl stopped rocking and looked to me again, as if for the first time. I forced her to scoot towards me and then she quickly grabbed my arm again. As she scooted up to me, she placed her head down against my chest and continued to gasp in painful breaths. My lips pursed in pity and I leaned my head forward.
“I’m going to end this.” I told her. “I have no idea what that man did to you and I have no idea how to reverse it. The only thing that I could possibly do is end this right now. And that is what I shall do.”
The girl held onto my body desperately, her legs hanging off of the table, her tail wrapped around her knees and her arms hanging onto me. As I lowered the needle towards her, I felt reluctant to go through with it. She was a beautiful person, in a strange way that makes my stomach and heart feel strange.
But every waking moment must have been another moment in hell for her. I wished that she would have or could have told me her name, told me where she lived, told me what was wrong and that she was still there. But the mouse girl must have lacked the ability to do so and was overlooked by her creator.
Slowly I pricked the needle into her skin, which she didn’t notice at all due to the pain coming from within her own form. Slowly I injected what I can only assume is the same concoction that the government forces into sadistic megalomaniac and serial killers. When the liquid was all gone, she began to calm down.
Her chest stopped rising and falling so quickly and she stopped gasping. Her legs went weak and her tail fell limp down off of the table. Her fingers stopped crushing my arm with her death grip and her eyes became sleepy. Slowly she leaned back and lied down on the table, letting go of me entirely. Within the entirety of twenty seconds, she was out of her misery.
Dropping the needle to smash upon the ground, I turned and strolled casually away from the table in the center of the room. Within minutes I was exiting the facility and climbing the stairs to the parking lot. Nobody knows what happened back there and I don’t believe that anybody will. In my car, cruising westwards, back towards home, I could only wonder what would be different if she could have lived.