Forever

Forever

John had done it. He had found the cure, the ultimate cure. The cure for death.

He had set out ten years ago, after the death of his little brother. Set out to destroy his brother’s killer. John’s brother contracted the HIV retrovirus at the age of twenty-one. He died ten years later. John had devoted his life since then to finding a cure for aids.

Now he had succeeded. He had created a cure. But not just for aids. He had created an elixir of life, the philosopher’s stone, if you will.

He decided to try and reinforce the white blood cells (the ones weakened by aids). To make the immune system more powerful so it could fight the deteriorating effects of aids. He had not tried to make the white blood cells multiply at greater speeds; instead, he worked to make the white blood cells themselves more efficient. He effectively forced evolution upon them. It was blind luck when he stumbled upon the effect one compound was having on the cells. It was making the cells fight for superiority; one cell would consume all the rest until it was alone. This discovery alone was beyond huge, but he had no interest in Nobel prizes, and he had all the money he needed to carry out his research. Even so he felt obliged to study this development. John found this solitary white blood cell to have groundbreaking attributes; it could withstand the onslaught caused by HIV. At first he could find no way to recreate the conditions needed for the cell to form. And whenever he tried to put other white blood cells in with it, it devoured them as it had its original. But soon the white cells began to multiply and not only did it divide more rapidly than normal cells, it also didn’t try attack its daughter cells.

But when he tested the serum on rats, John not only found that it fought aids, it also provided immunity to every disease known to man. That was not all; it made all wounds heal at an incredible speed due to the efficiency of the cells. Most miraculous of all, however, was the fact that it made the older rats change. Yes their anatomy gradually became much more similar to younger rats. The youngest rats continued to grow but once they reached their prime they stopped. It had broken the aging process.

Of course he was shocked and amazed by his results. But he saw the potential for disaster in his discovery. So he tested it on the only life he could risk... his own.

It worked better than he could have ever imagined. The asthma he suffered with for years became non-existent. He felt ten years younger and was beginning to look it. He found he needed less sleep. And he felt healthier than ever before. Cuts he intentionally made into my own arms healed before his eyes, it was like magic.

What to do with this miracle?

At first he had ran to the phone ready to call everyone who would listen and tell them about his miraculous discovery. Felt obliged to share his knowledge and bask in their praise. But before he even dialled a number he began to think on the repercussions it would have on the world.

Now he sat, wondering what to do. A gun in one hand, his phone in the other.

John had destroyed all the files on his discovery. His experiments, the rats, posed more of a problem than simply pressing delete. Although by no means indestructible, the serum had made them extremely... resilient. The usual means such as gas and injections had no effect. In anger he had broken one’s back, at first he thought it was dead
(how could it not be?)
but then an hour later he had looked into the cage and it was up and running as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t help but laugh. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, he had thought. John knew he would have to cause massive trauma to their brain in order to stop them from healing. It worked; the white blood cells could not heal the brain. He incinerated the corpses.

Now the only remnant of his discovery was himself.

The phone. The gun. Tell the world. Let the world carry on, unknowing.

He understood it was by far the most important choice he would ever make, maybe the most important choice anyone would ever make.

Would it be best to release the elixir upon the world? If everyone could live forever, no one would ever have to die. No one would ever have to bury their mother, or father, or brother, or anyone. No one would have to stand by their bedside as the love of their life decayed before their eyes. But that was exactly the problem, no one would ever die.

If there was a heaven, who would ever see it? It would create a world where death was an affliction of the past. Where life before death was all there would ever be.

The white blood cells that made the elixir divided so rapidly that mass producing a serum would be inexpensive. And, John estimated, in six months 98% of the world’s population would be vaccinated, would be immortal. This was of course not including those that chose not to be vaccinated. But let’s be honest, how many would not take the elixir? Who would choose to be one of the only people left to grow old and inevitably die? Not many, John thought.

In only a few years overpopulation would begin to occur. The elderly would begin to grow young. John thought their bodies would return anatomically to roughly that of a twenty-eight year old before the process stopped. As the old stopped dying, the earth’s population would increase exponentially. He suspected that within five years a ban would be put on having children. It was the only way that the population would be able to sustain itself. If the elderly stopped dying, the young would have to stop being born. The thought was very scary.

But he had to look at the good as well. No baby would ever die of leukaemia before their first birthday. No parent would ever have to bury a child. No one would ever have to bury anyone ever again. People would always be able to commit suicide. They had that choice at least. Families would be able to stay together forever. Love could truly last for all eternity. Would that be so bad?

If his theory was correct however, in thirty year’s time every person on the planet would look like they’re in their late twenties. No more children, ever. A man’s great grandfather would look the same age as them. John also believed that after several years the human being would adapt to the new way of living, would evolve. He thought it would only take a few years instead of the millions that it had taken other life forms to evolve because of the white blood cells. They were effectively a much evolved version of normal white cells, and the new, advanced cell composition seemed to be infecting other cells, this was the only way the de-aging could be explained. And John thought they would cause the human beings whole physiology to evolve at a rapid pace. At first, he thought, the human body would become a much more efficient machine. It would become stronger and faster. And then all the physical characteristics that made people different would begin to fade away. All physical abnormalities would be repaired so that humans were as perfect as possible, like making a car as streamlined you could so it would go faster. In other words as people became superhuman everyone would start to look the same. This seemed preposterous, but the more he debated it in his mind the more likely it seemed to become. It was mind-boggling. Why stop there, though? With no need for sexual reproduction, would we need genders. Would men and women’s DNA change to become an ultimate single gender? Would we not become a race of generic super humans? Faceless and sexless but as efficient as a fucking washing machine. A race that would live for all eternity.

He had no right to play God. No right to create a society where there was no afterlife, where most probably religion would play no part. Was it up to him to make a world where death, perhaps the most human thing of all, was no longer a human trait? Could he ever justify making a world without heaven or hell?

He put the phone down. A suicide note was on the table. Written along the lines of ‘I can’t find a cure for my brother, I don’t deserve to live.’ There would be no post-mortem, not in such an obvious suicide. His will was very clear that he wanted to be cremated. His secret would die with him. He had toyed with the idea of living on watching society, waiting to see if unleashing his elixir would be the right thing to do. Sooner or later though he would see a child dying and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. No! He had to stop it now, besides he didn’t want to live forever. He drew up the gun and blew his brains out.

Epilogue

The baby rat ran under the door, out on to the street. The bang had scared it out of hiding. It scurried through the night when a huge foot crushed it into a bloody mess. The man looked down and sighed, brand new shoes, he carried on walking. A few minutes later the baby rat carried on scurrying down the road.