The Experiment

The Experiment

A thousand possibilities, a thousand more thoughts crosses his fatigued mind, strained by many sleepness nights. He was almost there, on the brink of creating what would shock all. They would gaze in wonder at this beautiful creation, his creation. There was no stopping him now, no one, nothing would, no matter what. It was just too precious, too great a treasure to allow failure. There could not be room for malfunction, not ever. Just this once.His thoughts were constantly clawing their way to the front of his mind, repeating, repeating, until they were his only thoughts. Like an inner voice they chanted. Thoughts that reminded him only of the completion of his one creation in the metallic chamber in front of him. Thoughts of a man on the edge of delirium. He smiled at himself, at such perfection.

Just a few more seconds before it would be completed, he reassured himself. The laboratory was securely sealed from all outside, and no one would be able to interfere without first being detected by the watchful eye of the camera placed above the entrance. Even if they did get in, to try and steal what was his, they would only take their own lives. He touched the cold grip of the revolver, smiling mockingly at no one in particular.

The last few seconds ticked past, then the task set to the machines was finally complete. The door of the cylindrical chamber resting upright slid open to the touch of a button, ready to reveal what lay within. He did not rush foward as he had anticipated, his own patience surprising him. Slowly he approached the chamber, savouring every moment. In four strides he cleared the gap to the chamber and the tray he had placed within to hold his creation was still there. The work he had set out to complete lay upon it. Such perfection, he thought.

The infant lay innocently on the cold metal, and looked up at him with curious eyes. Unblemished, untainted, and it was all his. He picked up the child carefully, almost as a father would, like he was.Gazing lovingly at the child, he felt an immense weight lift from him, a relief brought forth from this creation. It was finished, and he, Mark Fall, had succeeded, on his first try too. All opposition to his work was brushed aside now, no bother to him. They could not do anything to this child now. Yet he did not feel satisfied.

"My dear child, I missed you. What was wrong is now made right again. You will not be lost again. It does not matter that you were dead, for now you have been brought back. Dear, dear Samantha, you are here now, just as I am."

His voice wavered and was followed with dead silence. The air stilled, and still both man and infant stayed silent. Something did not feel right to him. He looked at the infant once more. She was surely as whole as she had been a year ago. Just as heavy, just as fair, just as perfect, but still she did not make a sound. Then her eyes met his. They gazed at him with an intensity he had not seen before, and he was sure he could see what the infant thought through those eyes. He did, and the truth blasted through him like a hurricane. The infant was not Samantha, just as memories he had fed to the machine was.

It was all wrong. Samantha would live in sadness.