Genome

Two figures stood stolidly, staring intently at the hologram being projected onto the space in front of them. Rotating, twisting; alphabets stuck out perpendicularly from the shape, arranged in an order which would have been puzzling to anyone who was not a biology major. Most other scientists would not make head or tail out of it.

The DNA double helix. The code of life.

Reflected in their transparent spectacle lenses, the double helix continued rotating. After a while, the word "DECODED" flashed in front of the hologram in bright, shocking red. One of the scientists walked over to the computer terminal at the side, and with a few practised jabs on the keyboard, dispersed the image of the helix. Around the room, facts, figures, and god knows what began filling up all the available space on the white, sterile walls around them.

The walls were, within the span of a few milliseconds, transformed into an open encyclopedia of human life and history.

The two scientists, after a moment's pause, began walking around the room, pointing and whispering to each other as they walked along. At one particular complex section of the wall, they stopped and stared. Intently. The gentle humming of the machines, which was gentle and placating at first, expanded to invade every possible corner. Just when it seemed that it would have taken over the room, one of the scientists spoke.

"So it's true. After all."

The other scientist pushed up his grey spectacles, and with a gentle heave of his shoulders, sighed.

"Just like what you surmised. You're a genius."

The first scientist laughed; a strange, gurgling sound that pushed aside the humming of the machines.

"Never thought we would find our ancestors, right here in this stifling little laboratory, eh, Harold? Not that I'm willing to admit our relation, though."

Harold walked towards the wall, and stretched out his arm, extending his fingers for the hologram. It went right past, and his fingernails scraped the wall behind. The other scientist winced.

"Stop it, I hate it when you do that. It hurts."

"I didn't even make any noise. It's all in your mind, Winston."

Winston snarled, and decidedly turned away from Harold, so that he would not think about the screeching, wailing sound that Harold's fingers would make as it scraped along the plaster wall.

Harold retracted his arm, and heaved another sigh: a greater one this time.

"It's just.. so sad."

"What is?"

"Them."

"Them?"

"Them."

Winston narrowed his eyes, and turned his body back to face the wall, contemplating it, digesting it. After what seemed like a reasonably long time, he said, "Well, as far as I see it, they deserve it. They've got it coming to them all along."

"Winston!"

"It's true, isn't it? Animals, the bunch of them. In their hands, the meaning of civilization has been destroyed. The dignity of it has been destroyed, for god's sake!'

"That's not fair; that's not fair at all. They didn't have our brains. They didn't have our capabilities."

Winston snorted; a disturbing sound, if ever there was one.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. No brains, right."

"Just because they didn't have our brains, doesn't mean that you can say that they've got it coming to them, Winston. You make it sound like what they call.. karma. You make it sound like someone decided to punish them."

"Am I wrong to say that? Fools, they are. Barbarians. When given the gift of civilization, what do they do with it? They trample upon it. Instead of using it to better the world, they use it as a mere shield against natural selection. Selfish bastards."

Harold jumped, like he had been pricked with a pin. Winston snorted again.

"So you believe the theory? That they died off when natural selection worked against them? When civilization failed on them?" Harold asked, while pacing about the room restlessly.

"Yes, of course. It seems entirely plausible to me, does it not? The idiots suck nature dry. Then they use up everything it has to offer. So they have no choice but to return to nature. Just this time, the story changed. This time, Nature took its revenge."

Harold nodded.

"Yeah, it seems plausible. Karma. It might exist, after all. They shouldn't have invented the word, eh? Then it wouldn't have haunted them." Harold laughed, heaving his shoulders as he did.

Winston rolled his eyes, thinking "Oh why the hell am I stuck with this guy? Oh right, he's my research partner." before turning towards the exit.

"Where are you going?"

Winston tried to do the Harold-Heave, before turning around in a manner that just screamed condescending. "I'm just going to hop over to the storage room to get more DNA. So we can have enough samples to turn in a full report."

A pause. Winston started to walk out.

"Oh, and.."

"Yes? Just say it, we haven't got all the time in the world."

"You do know that, since you are the one that successfully decoded them, you get to name them, don't you?"

Winston, who previously had been looking at Harold's neck instead of at the man's face itself, jerked his head up to look his colleague straight in the eye.

"Hmm. You read archaeology, don't you? What did they use to call us, before this?"

"Pan troglodytes?"

"Pan troglodytes," he repeated. "That it shall be, then. We are the humans this time. And we won't go their way." Winston smirked, baring his teeth as he spoke the last few words.