The Bloodless Read online

  Justice shook Jack’s hand, “I’ve been ready for this day for ten years now,” he said. Despite his projected confidence, he sure did not feel ready. He was definitely nervous, as anyone who was about to make this kind of scientific breakthrough would be. After all, it’s not every day the dead are resurrected.

  The two men rode the elevator to the lab located on the top of the complex. It was the largest one in the building and was designed specifically for ground breaking work. Sounds arrogant but that’s what was envisioned when this facility was planned. Unfortunately that aspect of the largest laboratory was vastly underused, until today. Justice and his team had made a tremendous discovery in the field of genetic engineering that went beyond controlling a being before its creation.

  These are genetics that applied to post-creation and ultimately post-mortem. It was not an easy task engineering a dead organism to be alive again and many specimens were spent in the process. Today was the first day of human trials. A few bodies had been procured from donors and were prepped the night before. Word around the water cooler was that there would be some special guests in the building that day to witness the event.

  What an event it would be, too, but only for a small few within the company. The public at large was wholly unaware of this particular event taking place within the walls of GoD Labs. It was best they did not know because if they had, something like this would never have been possible. Even without laws in place, moral objectors would’ve found a way to disrupt the practices, whether it be through espionage or overwhelming numbers. As it were, the tests were to proceed as planned, with no interruptions or delays.

  Justice and Jack stepped off the elevator and entered their offices that were located just outside the topmost lab. Justice hung his jacket on the coat rack just inside his door and then walked over and sat down at his desk. His corner office was quite large and had grand floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the outside walls. Everything from the high priced art on the walls to the functioning waterfall in the corner screamed, “This is an executive’s office!”

  Justice powered on his workstation and started pulling some crucial files off the internal server. These were all his notes and procedures that they used for the previous trials. He figured it could not hurt to have them just in case something went wrong. Not that he was expecting anything to go wrong, the fundamentals were sound, but in this setting, one never takes anything for granted. Once he had the files, Justice stood up and walked around to look out of his windows. As he stared out of them contemplatively, a knock came at his door.

  “Justice,” it was Jack, “let’s hit it bro!”

  Justice took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, “Let’s do this,” he responded and he went to the door to meet Jack.

  As they walked towards the lab, Jack put a hand on Justice’s shoulder in a reassuring way, “Don’t sweat it man, this is your day!”

  “This is our day, Jack,” Justice corrected him, “you’ve been a tremendous asset to this project from its inception. Don’t short change yourself.” Jack smiled appreciatively and the two men entered the laboratory. Inside, a couple other scientists were already waiting along with a half dozen lab assistants. Justice and Jack donned white lab coats and greeted everyone in the room.

  At that time another man walked into the laboratory. Alexander Jefferson, Chief Executive Officer and President of GoD Laboratories. He had a very regal look to him. His jaw looked as though it had been chiseled by a master artisan, his smile looked as though it had been taken off the face of a model, and his eyes had a glow about them that made him seem, if possible, even less human. He was a child of extreme genetic engineering. His parents wanted him to be the ultimate human being and in some ways they succeeded, all except for the human part.

  While he possessed superhuman intellect and physical prowess, Alexander lacked sympathy and compassion. This crucial deficiency lead to him being a very cruel and logical, uncaring person. The worst part was that he just did not know any better. All his decisions were comparable to that of a robot or any kind of artificial intelligence, they were all best result or efficiency based. However, while most robots were programmed to put humans first, Alexander was not, indeed, he was not programmed at all. This left his decisions being best suited for himself and himself alone, forsaking all others around him.

  He could not be labelled as evil or a bad guy, in fact, he did a lot of good, gave a lot of charity, but again, that was because it helped his bottom line and it made him look better publicly. He never gave personally and even lobbied to have a lot of anti-homeless legislation drafted, much of which passed thanks to his undeniable influence on politicians and the government itself.

  “Good morning Mr. Jefferson,” Justice said as he spotted Alexander.

  “Ah, Mr. Justice,” Alexander said, his voice was very controlled but condescending, “I trust all is on schedule and going accordingly.”

  “Of course,” Justice responded, “but to what do we owe the pleasure of your company today?” It was an odd appearance by Alexander who usually remained in his office, the days he actually showed up, and barked orders from the public address system.

  “I wish to witness this event first hand,” Alexander said. “This is not only a big day for mankind, but a big day for the company. If this is a success, we’ll make a fortune.”

  “Yes sir,” Justice and Jack replied, both secretly thinking that he’s already made several fortunes. What could one more hurt, right? “Would you like us to get started?” Justice asked.

  “Not quite yet,” Alexander said. “We are still awaiting a couple guests of mine. They’re heading up on the elevator now.” Sure enough, after a couple moments of awkward, my-boss-is-here-what-do-I-do-with-myself silence, the lab doors opened and a small four person group was escorted in by Alexander’s secretary.

  “Mr. Jefferson,” she said as she stepped to the side, “Vladimir Romanov, President of Villain Weapons Systems.” She did an awkward little bow/curtsy move and quickly left the lab.

  Vladimir was not a very large man, nor was he a physically imposing figure, but the way he carried himself made the people in the same room as him feel differently. Maybe it was the fact that he carried his company’s latest prototype on his person at all times or maybe it was the simple fact that he was a Russian weapons dealer, there were numerous reasons. The fact remained, nobody wanted to get on Vladimir Romanov’s bad side.

  “Mr. Romanov,” Alexander said as he extended his hand towards him.

  “Please call me Vladimir,” he replied in what he apparently thought was a friendly tone. He shook Alexander’s hand.

  “Ah ah ah, not in this building. In this building we treat our superiors and guests with the utmost respect,” Alexander replied with a toothy grin.

  “I insist,” Vladimir responded.

  “Okay then, Vladimir,” Alexander said through his smile and it was obvious the use of the name was causing him great discomfort. Concurrently, Vladimir seemed to be getting much joy from this discomfort.

  “Let me introduce to you, my associates,” Vladimir said indicating the people around him. “First, meet my business partner and right hand man, Yakov Khrushchev.” Yakov simply nodded his head. He had very blond hair and a sleek stature. He looked wholly uninterested with the whole scene in front of him.

  Vladimir next pointed to the man on his right. Now this was a big man. He had muscles for days and it even showed through his custom tailored, all black suit. He was nearly seven feet tall and had dark eyes. “This is my body guard, whom I never leave home without, Birger Froseth.” Birger did not move, he just eyeballed everyone in the room at the same time.

  Finally, behind him, was the only female in the room. Her hair was long and dark red and her features were very symmetrical. She had a very hardened look about her, but whether that was because she was tough or had to act tough to be around these characters is unknown. “And this,” Vladimir said excitedly and then, almost lovingly, “
is my lead design engineer, Abigail Crist.” He placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her towards Alexander. He never removed his hand from her body as she shook hands with Alexander, as if worried Alexander would snatch her away and take off with her.

  “It is an honor to meet all of you,” Alexander said as he looked thoroughly pleased to have all the formalities out of the way. “Shall we get started?” Everyone nodded.

  As Justice and his colleagues made their final adjustments and got into their places, he could not help but wonder why there were representatives from a weapons company at this trial. It did not make any sense other than the fact that they believed they would be able to make weapons out of this research. Since that was their business, what else could there be? However, Justice did not see how something like this could be made into a weapon, or what harm this research could even bring about.

  “Dr. Justice,” Alexander said as they were just about ready to start, “why don’t you explain to everybody what we’re doing here before you get everything underway?” A large crowd had gathered inside the laboratory’s observation deck. This was not an event to be missed.

  “Sure,” said Justice. “First, I think we all know why we’re here. Organic reanimation has only ever existed within the pages of science fiction. Today we plan to bring it into the world of scientific fact. Our hypotheses have been tested on multiple smaller organisms like plants, mice, and we’ve even successfully reanimated a canine. This is the first of many trials that will involve human beings, a highly complex organism. However, the physiology and the fundamentals remain the same.

  “The point that gets tricky with human beings is the reclamation of the soul. While no proof exists of other animals having souls, the evidence for the human soul is overwhelming and based well in reality. This is why there is a need for many trials, we need to be sure the process works and that the original soul can be retrieved. The procedure is divided into two phases: The first is the reanimation of the dead cells themselves and the second phase is the reacquisition of the subject’s soul through a séance.”

  There were some looks among the observatory deck crowd and even between Vladimir and his people. Abigail Crist looked the most suspicious, as though Justice was a shoddy scientist. Justice seemed to understand the impact his last statement had on the spectators, “I realize that doesn’t sound very scientific. However, when you’ve spent as much time as me verifying the existence of souls, these once ill thought of practices, séances for example, begin to look more and more legitimate. I assure you, the procedure we utilize is perfectly capable of attaining our desired outcomes.”

  Justice’s last statement was not completely true. While his research was solid and thoroughly tested, his methods for soul retrieval were more or less a crap shoot. The procedure could easily recapture a soul to be housed within the reanimated subject, but it was not always the original soul. The process was like shooting a load of buck shot through a pinhole and expecting a pellet you marked to make it through. Of course, he didn’t know all of this prior to the trials, but the results would show themselves soon enough.

  “Now,” Justice began, “if everyone is ready we can get started.” He smiled at his audience and set about making final adjustments. “Jack, you ready?” And when Jack nodded, “Okay, bring in Subject 05142100-101.” An auxiliary door towards the back of the lab opened up and two white coat assistants wheeled in a gurney with a body on top of it covered with a white sheet. The gurney was positioned in the center of the room under a spectrum of lights. The sheet was removed to reveal an elderly man whose body was in unremarkable condition.

  “Subject is male, aged 126 years. Subject’s life functions ceased due to stroke that led to cardiac arrest,” Justice explained to the room and the spectators in the observatory deck. He then went to work connecting the man’s body to a few different machines and making some small adjustments to his position under the lights. “Body was donated in accordance to the subject’s last will and testament. Overall physical condition is at a nominal level and the organs, save the brain, have been reported to be in average condition. No signs of any major diseases.

  “As you can see,” Justice said turning to his audience, “there is no presence of a pulse or any indications of brain activity. Since that has been verified, we will now initiate the reanimation process.” He went and positioned himself behind a large control console and started manipulating the surface. The lights in the laboratory dimmed and a low hum whirred into life and steadily grew louder like the slow rumble of a building storm.

  “Might as well give ‘em a show, eh?” Jack whispered to Justice. Justice smirked but did not respond.

  Small electrical discharges zipped through the cords attached to the subject causing random muscles to twitch involuntarily. Justice looked on from behind the console and the way the light fell on his face made him look a bit mad but still in control. He pressed a few more buttons and what was now a loud roar filling the room leveled off to a reasonable growl. The lights above the old man started to flicker and then burst on. The lights went off and on in a very structured sequence, focusing light energy on certain parts of the body at precise intervals.

  The sequence suddenly sped up and judging by the reaction of both Justice and Jack, this was not a planned step. Jack rushed over to the control console and started yelling unintelligibly into Justice’s ear. The noise in the room grew louder and louder and as the noise peaked an alarm blared overhead. Justice motioned and yelled for everyone to evacuate the room but no one could hear what he was saying. However, once the room began to vibrate violently they took the hint and hurried out of the laboratory.

  “Justice,” Jack yelled, “we have to get out of here, the system isn’t stable!”

  “But I don’t understand what went wrong!”

  “No time to understand, we’ll figure it out after our asses are booted to the curb!”

  “No,” Justice refused to move, “I can stabilize it, probably just a faulty calculation in one of the light sequences!”

  “That’s ridiculous! The calibration of the entire system is off!”

  “I can fix it,” Justice reiterated but Jack did not hear him and started pulling on Justice’s coat. Finally Justice started to see that it was a lost cause and reluctantly started to follow Jack out of the lab. “Wait,” he yelled as they neared the doors. Justice tore away from Jack’s grip and rushed back over to the console. “I can do a manual power reset and everything should restore to a default status!” Jack tried to stop him but Justice was too quick. Once back at the controls Justice began manipulating the surface as quickly as he could.

  “This oughta do it,” he yelled and pressed one last button, but that last button proved to be one too many. As soon as he touched the button on the screen a giant arc of electricity jumped from the console and lifted Justice into the air and threw him back, slamming him hard against the opposite wall. After he slid to the ground everything in the lab went back to normal and all the lights returned to their default settings.

  Jack rushed over to where Justice’s body laid sprawled over the floor, smoke issuing from his ears. It might’ve been comical if blood was not also gushing from his ears and eyes. “Justice,” Jack yelled in vain. Jack put his fingers to Justice’s neck to check for a pulse and held them there for a few minutes, much longer than it takes to find a pulse. “DANIEL!”

  CHAPTER 3

  The Dead Shall Inherit the Earth

  Justice woke up in the hospital anchored to a slew of machines. His memory was spottier than a college student who went on a booze fueled bender to celebrate the end of another mediocre semester. He looked around the room to find that he was alone but there must have been cameras on him because a few moments later a man in a white lab coat walked into the room. The doctor picked up the chart hanging on the end of Justice’s bed and looked it over.

  “Welcome back,” the man said.

  “What happened?” Justice asked trying to mo
ve. To his surprise he found it wasn’t that painful to move his body. “Have I been out long?”

  “A few days,” the doctor said. He put the chart back in the holder, “we had you in a medically induced coma. You hit your head pretty hard.”

  “Damn,” Justice said rubbing a hand over his eyes, “I had the craziest dreams.”

  The door to the room opened again and in walked Jack Strayer who was looking majorly relieved. “Justice,” he said happily, “you gave us quite a scare!”

  “Did I?”

  “You sure did. Head trauma like yours is always scary, even if recovery is assured.”

  Justice, now sitting up fully, rubbed his eyes and looked around the room, still looking slightly confused. “Did I die?” he asked.

  “Close,” Jack said with a nervous grin, “but you know dying ain’t no easy task these days.”

  “Weird,” Justice said, “I had the most vivid dream that I was dead for three days and you brought me back to life.”

  “That is some dream,” Jack said, “but we’ll chalk that one up to the morphine-LSD drip we gave you. How do you feel?”

  Justice moved his arms, stretched his hands, wiggled his toes, and rolled his head on his shoulders. “I feel fine,” he said.

  The doctor smiled, “We thought you would. You’re free to go anytime.”

  With that, Justice was discharged from the hospital and from there he traveled up the elevator straight to his office. GoD Labs had a couple floors of the main building designated as an infirmary that ended up becoming one of the best hospitals in the region and it made sense since a lot of the experiments happening within the building had the potential to cause bodily harm to the scientists performing them. This was not the first time someone was injured during a demonstration and it certainly would not be the last. As he walked across the floor to his office, the other workers greeted and welcomed him back. Some people stared in wonder at him but Justice could not quite figure out why. Had they never seen someone who had been in a medically induced coma before?