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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1548657-Prodigal-Formula---Chapter-One
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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Sci-fi · #1548657
Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE

Doctor Birck Ellis was, in his own estimation, nothing short of a genius.  Staring through glasses hanging dangerously low on his crooked nose, he scanned the face of the documents strewn across his desk.  Looking up from his work, he spoke into a handheld cassette recorder and pushed a lock of gray hair back from his eyes.
         “Medical Journal of Doctor Birck Douglas... April 17, 1987...  Data analysis following testing on the laboratory rats has shown no adverse reaction.  Vitals have remained within target boundaries and there appear to be no harmful side-effects.  Prolonged appendage use is evident at... 72 hours and counting.  Everything seems to be... working.  The rats are... normal.  I think I’ve done it.”
         Ellis stopped the tape and wheeled his chair around to stare at the row of mice in sanitized cages.  On the end, test subject #47 (affectionately known as Roy) ran in place on an exercise wheel.  Ellis rolled his chair to the cage and stared intently in at Roy who looked back with noncommittal recognition.  Ellis pushed the record button and began speaking again.
         “The neuroprosthetic serum has essentially re-wired test subject 47’s motor cortex and formed new connections to his previously paralyzed legs.  47 is running on his exercise wheel, as I record this.”  Ellis lifted the lid on the cage and lowered the tape recorder to capture the sound of the squeaking wheel.  Roy stood on his hind legs and sniffed curiously at the recorder before deciding the wheel was more entertaining.
         Ellis stopped tape and rolled back to his desk, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the surface.  His eyes rolled over the empirical data printed and written out before him.  He tied each page together with corollary data that all resulted in the same thing.  The serum – his serum – was working.
         “Dr. Ellis?”
         Ellis looked up to find his assistant, Benjamin Williams, standing in the doorway.  Thought twelve years younger than Ellis, Ben made up for any shortcomings through his dedication to Ellis’ project and his aptitude as a liaison between Ellis and the execs at BioCorp – without whose funding, Roy’s miraculous recovery would have not been possible.
         “Ben,” Ellis greeted him and turned off the tape recorder.  “I hope you found something.”
         Ben produced a bottle of champagne and two Dixie cups from a shopping bag and paused to look for a place to set them on the desk.  Ellis slid a medical cart from behind him to rest beside in front of Ben.
         “It’s lukewarm, dirt cheap and probably tastes like battery acid, but at least we have the Dixie cups.”
         Ellis barked a sharp laugh and leaned back in his chair.  The squeak of Roy’s wheel stopped for a moment at the loud pop of the champagne bottle being opened and slowly resumed as Ben poured two half Dixie cups full of champagne.  He glanced at subject 47 as he finished pouring.
         “I still can’t believe it,” he said solemnly.
         “Believe it,” Ellis said evenly and offered a salute with his celebratory paper cup.
         “They’ll want a press conference, you know,” Ben poked.
         Ellis sipped his champagne and stared at the photograph on his desk.
         “Doc?”
         “I know.  You should probably start writing something tonight.”
         “I was thinking you could handle this one.  This is your baby and it’s out of the woods, now.  If anyone unveils it to the world, it should be you.”
         “Why does anyone have to unveil it?”
         Ben paused in the middle of a sip and looked over his cup at Ellis.  He slowly lowered the drink and leaned forward, hushing his tone.
         “What do you mean?  Why wouldn’t we unveil it?  This is colossal, Dr. Ellis.  A paralyzed rat is running on a wheel not ten feet from us because you’ve created a serum that made it possible!  Why hide such an accomplishment?”
         “Because it's not ready,” Ellis said and returned his gaze to the photograph.
         “You mean you’re not ready,” Ben followed Ellis’ gaze and sat in silence.  “It’s about him, isn’t it?”
         “I will not allow any roadblocks at this late stage, Benjamin.  We have but one more hurdle.”
         Save for the squeaking of the wheel and the fizz of champagne, the two sat in silence for some time.
         “That’s how it is, huh?” Ben asked.
         Ellis simply nodded.
         “You know I can’t condone this, Birck.  Please don’t make me do it.  It’s wrong.  It’s not fair to anyone involved.”
         “Fair is a word for the weak.”
         “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
         “Did you ever have a doubt?” Ellis replied quizzically
         “Fine.  But you’ll have to talk to the boys upstairs yourself.  I won’t do it.  And this is where we part company.”
         Without a word, Ben stood and left the room.  Ellis finished his cup and picked up his recorder once more.
         “Having witnessed the effects of the serum on laboratory animals, I feel compelled to complete this journey and confident that a final solution is within my grasp.  The human testing phase will begin as soon as possible.  End note.”
         Ellis poured another cup of champagne and caressed the photo on his desk with his thumb.  Taken two years prior, the photo showed Ellis on one knee at an outdoor park, smiling at the camera with one arm holding a pool raft and the other wrapped around the shoulders of his son, who smiled shyly from his wheelchair.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1548657-Prodigal-Formula---Chapter-One