Guinea Pig (14 page)

And then it hit him. Like an ice bomb exploding in his brain he understood. And it was worse than anything he could have imagined. More terrible and more frightening. There was DNA in hair!

“Oh crap! You stole the brush. The angel hair brush. And then you extracted the genes from it, and put them in me. You put something in me that might not even be human!” Might not be human? Even as he said it Will knew he was understating things. It wasn't human.

“Calm down!”

The doctor spoke to him in what he probably thought was a soothing voice, and it was exactly the wrong thing to do. It set Will's teeth on edge. He'd done this to him and now the doctor wanted him to be calm? Will was staggered by that. By his complete lack of empathy for what he'd done. As if the doctor had any right to tell him to calm down when he had turned him into some sort of monster. It was like a killer telling his victim to relax. And now that he knew there was no calm.

“Calm down? You monster! You bungling quack! Frankenstein! Don't you dare tell me to calm down! How could you do something like that to me?! To anyone?! What the hell sort of nut case are you?!”

Will screamed at him like a mad man, losing complete control as he never had before. Really, he just wanted to pick the doctor up and rip him to pieces. It was hard to restrain himself. But he had to. He knew that. He had to find out what else was going to happen to him. The loss of his body hair, the sun tan and the golden eyes. He could deal with those. He could live with the stiff back, weight loss and the change in his diet. Maybe he could even take having two hearts and the loss of his mind. He didn't know. But what other changes were coming? Wings? Halo? Harp playing?

“It'll be all right.”

The doctor was still trying to soothe him Will realised, and it really angered him. Did the man have no understanding of what he'd done? Not a single clue? Finally Will gave into his anger and simply screamed his rage at him. A wordless sound that expressed everything he was feeling perfectly. And a sound that at least seemed to get through to the doctor. It made him take a step back. The doctor even looked slightly worried. And while the doctor still might not have understood why Will was so angry, at least it stopped him trying to placate him with his stupid words. It shut him up.

Eventually Will managed to reclaim his self-control, though it took a while. A very long while. But then he'd never been so angry before. Not in his entire life. Eventually though he calmed enough to ask him his most terrible questions. The things he knew that he most desperately needed answered. His darkest fears of what was coming. His questions sounded like an accusation. But then they were an accusation.

“You don't know what's going to happen to me. You've never seen an angel. You don't know how they look or act or think. And you can't undo it. If you don't know what you did you can't fix it. You just decided to play mad scientist on my arse. So don't tell me to calm down! Just tell me how bad it is. How much worse it's going to get. And if you have any idea what's coming before the end. Am I going to grow bloody wings? How many damned genes did you throw in me?” And was that what the skin on his back was? The start of wings?

“All of them.” Doctor Millen looked straight at him and smiled as he said it, as if he was actually proud of what he'd done. Which, Will suddenly realised, he was. His confidence had returned. He actually thought this was a good thing. Somewhere in his twisted little mind he thought he was doing God's work. The man was mad. How on Earth had anyone ever given him a medical license? But this wasn't the time to scream at him. It might be the time to cry instead.

“All of them?!”

“The hair bulbs were in surprisingly good condition. I managed to extract whole chromosomes and sequence them. To find everything that didn't match normal human DNA. And then to plant those sequences into virus carriers. A hundred and ten different viruses. And you got all of them. At a guess at least ninety percent of your genome is being rewritten.”

“Ninety percent!”

Will's legs suddenly went weak and he felt the need to sit down on the bench before he fell down. But of course he couldn't sit and instead just collapsed sideways on to it and buried his face in his hands.  There were some things that were actually worse than what he could ever have imagined. Soon he wasn't going to be human. Not even close. Ninety percent wasn't a gene or two. It was tens of thousands.

But at least he now knew why he was changing. Why he couldn't stand the smell of meat any more. Why he was finding some things easier to understand and others harder. Why he was having trouble with his memory. His mind as well as his body was being slowly rewritten. Rewritten into something completely alien. Something a man had never been meant to be.

“How could you?”

Will barely even whispered the words. He didn't seem to have the strength. But in the end the “why” didn't matter. It was too late for “why”. He'd done it. That was all that did matter. The doctor had done it and Will was screwed. Utterly screwed.

“I had to know.”

And there it was Will realised. The reason. The essence of the doctor. Curiosity. He'd wanted to know if there really were such things as angels. What they were like. And so he'd set about finding out in the only way he could. By recreating one of them. At any price.

“You sacrificed my life for your own curiosity.”

He should have been angry and bitter. And deep down he was. But the shock and despair were overwhelming him just then and what was left was little more than a shell of a man. Fairly much what he would be in time. “Go away.”

“Sacrif -? … You're not going to die.” Doctor Millen sounded upset. Defensive. But it was a bit late for him to start trying to pretend that he was innocent.

“Liar! You don't know that. You don't know anything. You have no idea. You never had any idea what would happen. You just guessed and played God. Rolled the dice for your own amusement and wagered me.”

“That's not fair! Who wouldn't want to become an angel? To know the wonder?”

“Me you imbecile!” Will screamed it at him, unable to hold it back. “Or had you missed that? I don't want this. Not any of it. No one would want it. And thanks to you I'm doomed to suffer it anyway. Who the hell do you think gave you the right?”

“But -.”

“Don't!” He held up his hand. “No more lies. I hope you're happy because live or die I won't be me. Even if I survive this nightmare what comes out the other end won't be me. I won't be William Simons. I won't be able to go home to my family. Continue my life. Finish my degrees. Marry and have a family. I'll slowly become something else. And I don't want to be something else.”

“I had a life!” Will shouted it at the doctor, the anger bursting loose once more, and it made the doctor flinch. It even wiped that infuriating expression off his face. Finally he'd said something to destroy the doctor's smile. But it wasn't a victory of any sort. Will knew now that there was no victory for him.

“But -.”

“Save it. There's no point. There's nothing you can do. Just go away. And please don't do this to anyone else. No one should have to go through this.” He had to say it. He couldn't let anyone else go through the same thing.

“I can't. The DNA wouldn't multiply properly. Not outside of a living body. I used nearly everything on you. And all that was left was in the clinic.”

“Good. At least no one else has to suffer and die for your amusement. Go away.” Will raised his voice a little at the end and gestured at the path hoping the doctor would get the message. But he didn't. He just sat there looking horrified. As though he'd been unjustly accused of something.

“That's not -.” He was going to protest. To claim it wasn't fair. But Will was in no mood for his self-serving lies.

“Fair? You really think I'm being unfair? You've deliberately destroyed my life and you think I'm being unfair?”

“You want the truth do? You want to know what you've done to me? Then listen. The physical is bad. My spine has fused, my guts are in a permanent uproar. I have two hearts. I have crippling stomach cramps. Every part of me aches. But the pain is nothing compared to the shame. I can't go anywhere without people pointing and staring. I can't tell my own family what's happened.”

“And then there's the loss of my future. I had hopes and dreams. Marriage, career, happiness. All gone now. You've stolen that from me. All of it.”

“Then there's what's happening to my mind. And my mind as well as my body is slowly being shredded Doc. My brain is being rewired into something that doesn't work like a human brain. Thanks to you.”

“I find it hard to remember things. To understand them. Things I once knew so well that they were second nature are gone. It's hard to think in certain ways. Hard to concentrate. I find myself seeing and hearing things I don't understand. Things that aren't even there. And I don’t always understand what's right in front of me. I often don't know what's real and what's not. It's called schizophrenia. I can't read or write any more. Literally I don't know how. I'm a masters student and I can't even read!”

“I'm going to end up a bloody vegetable because of you!”

“My sex drive is completely gone, and I will never have a family. Never know love again. I am not even a man any more. My tastes are changing. Things I like and things I don't aren't what they were. I’m no longer human. I'm ruined. Make no mistake I'd rather be dead than continue like this. The only reason I haven't taken that option is that I can't do that to my family.”

“You've murdered me. The very least you could do is to go away and let me die in peace.”

The doctor stood there for what seemed like ages. His eyes were wide and staring, his mouth opened and closed for the longest time without his actually saying anything. But Will had had enough of him. Now that he had his answers he had to turn his thoughts to what mattered. And mostly that meant preparing for whatever was coming. Helping his family to grieve. Because one way or another they were losing him. Just as he was losing himself.

“Get out!” Will yelled at the doctor when he still seemed unwilling or unable to move, and at least it made him blink a little in shock.

Eventually the doctor turned around and started walking away. He had nothing left. But still he tried. Every step he took he stopped and turned back. Hoping perhaps to say something. To prove he was right. That he wasn't guilty of murder. But he couldn't find the words. His mouth continued to open and close wordlessly. And his face was a mask of horror. Eventually he reached the side of the house and was about to disappear out of sight when Will remembered one more thing.

“And go and tell Pastor Franks what you've done. He should at least know who stole the relic his church was entrusted with. Who betrayed them.”

Chapter Sixteen.

Elijah was shocked as he sat there listening to the doctor's confession. Except that he wasn't hearing a confession, or at least, not one within the confines of the sacraments. The doctor hadn't asked for that. He was just blurting out his crimes in public for everyone to hear. And the rest of the small congregation were sitting there listening and looking stunned. They didn't know what to think.

Neither sadly did he.

When he'd burst into the church ranting and screaming like a mad man, the service had had to be stopped. They couldn't continue over the top of him. Naturally Elijah had gone to him, understanding that the doctor desperately needed help and he'd asked the others to wait for him. They understood the need he was sure. But they like him couldn't understand what the doctor was confessing to. Or what he'd done. Not at first. The things he was saying didn't make sense. But then the guilt had finally become clear.

There had been a gasp when Reginald had simply shouted out to everyone that he'd stolen the sacred relic. After over a year of wondering, of failed attempts to find it, they'd almost given up hope of ever finding out who had stolen it. They'd certainly never expected the thief to be one of their own. But then to understand that not only had he stolen it but that he'd then lied to everyone about it for all that time – had even pretended to be searching for it; that had almost been like a physical blow.

And then had come this mad story about genetic therapy and inserting angelic DNA into a man. At that point no one had known what to think, least of all Elijah. And he couldn't get Reginald to make sense. To explain. Even though he'd taken Reginald to the back of the small church by then and was trying to get him to speak calmly instead of simply shouting and yelling like a madman, they could all hear every crazy word. But the doctor didn't seem to care about that.

He cared that he had harmed William Simons. He cared so greatly that the guilt was tearing him apart. And that was as it should be. But Elijah couldn't understand it. Not that the man cared. He should care. But how anyone could do something so monstrous to another human being and then be surprised and upset when his victim was harmed by it – that Elijah had trouble taking in. It made no sense at all. For a moment he wondered if the doctor had suffered some sort of psychotic breakdown. But if he had, Elijah didn't know quite when the breakdown had occurred. When he'd done this thing? Or now when he was trying to deny what he'd done?

“
He thinks he's dying!” Reginald Millen wailed at him and Elijah sat there wondering why Reginald was so surprised. Because he had to have known that death would be the outcome. If what the doctor had admitted to was true then William Simons was almost certainly dying. He didn't know a lot of science but even he understood that the mixing of two such different essences, one vastly more powerful than the other, would have to be a mistake. Death would seem almost certain. And from what the doctor was telling him, it would be a terrible death. William was literally losing his mind. Suddenly Elijah felt ashamed for having made light of William's condition. Telling him that it was less than it was. It wasn't. It was surely far worse.

“What did you expect?” The pastor closed his eyes for a bit as he tried to think what to say. But he knew that there was nothing he could say that would bring the doctor comfort. Why he had done what he had done was beyond his understanding. And what the outcome would be was as well. It was madness on every level. But all he could do was speak the truth.

“He probably is dying. Even if his body survives as whatever bizarre chemistry experiment you've turned him into, his mind, everything that makes him who he is, is being erased. And it's being replaced with another mind that has never developed. Never had a thought. A baby's mind. Maybe the mind of a foetus. And not a human one.”

“An angel!”

The doctor cried it out as if defending himself. As if it was somehow right that he should turn a man into an angel and not a crime against God and nature. And presumably he did believe that no matter how insane. It was the only thing that made any sense to Elijah when he wondered why the man had done this thing. Reginald wasn't a bad man. He surely hadn't set out to cause suffering. But he had caused it. And now he didn't seem to be able handle it. The man was falling apart in front of him.

“No! Just the body and the brain of an angel at best. More likely some hybrid creature. But neither the soul nor the mind. Those things don't come from the DNA. They come from God and from living.” It seemed perfectly obvious to him. Why couldn't the doctor see it?

“Besides, that's assuming that what you've done is to create some sort of viable creature. There's no reason to assume that. You haven't replaced everything you said. Just ninety percent of the key differences. You've made a hybrid of some sort. And not all hybrids work. Mules are sterile. Ligers and tions tend towards becoming hugely fat. And their parents are much closer to one another than humans and angels.” Or so he assumed. But the changes he had witnessed in Mr. Simons seemed to confirm it.

“You can't say that!” Reginald screamed it at him as if he was lying to him somehow. He was obviously unable to face the truth.

“Of course I can. I'm not even a doctor and I know that much. If you've done what you say then William is in bad shape.”

He had to be honest and more than that he had to be firm with the doctor. The time for denial had passed. The time for recriminations and blame had also gone. Probably on the very day he had injected Mr. Simons with his concoction. It was time for only one thing; to try to fix the damage.

“And the only thing you can do Reginald is to try to fix it. Can you fix it?”

“He doesn't need fixing – he's perfect!”

And suddenly they were back in the realm of fantasy Elijah realised. The doctor was telling him not what he knew, but what he wanted to believe was true. What he had to believe. No matter how crazy it was.

“William's come to see me three or four times. And each time he's been more confused and more desperate. He didn't know what was happening to him but he did know it was wrong. He was very badly frightened. And now from what you've said, he knows he has reason to be. His mind is going. He's quite probably going to die. He is anything but perfect.”

“So is there anything you can do to stop this? Or reverse it? To give him some hope?” But even as he asked Elijah knew there wasn't. He could see it in the doctor's eyes. Hear it in the sudden silence.

“No.”

It was a long time before he said it. And when he did Elijah could barely hear him. Finally the doctor had stopped shouting. Instead, he was almost whispering. As if perhaps he finally understood what he'd done. And perhaps he also finally realised that the outcome would be bad. But it was far too late.

Elijah bowed his head in prayer, realising it was the only hope they had left. Both for William Simons and for Reginald Millen.