Immortality Project, Chapter 2

		Chapter 2
		13th March 2043
	Avrom, with a sparkle of anger in his eyes, grasped his colleague by his throat as he pinned him up against the wall, lifting him up from the ground.
	“One more time you annoy me, you will be my next cadaver, you wee-brained imbecile. Do I make myself clear?” Hearing his colleague gagging in his own saliva whilst trying to pry Avrom’s hands from strangling him, his fingers dug deeper into him.
	“Do I make myself clear?” He reiterated, slowing himself down to nail the message into him.
	William hardly nodded. Upon the release of his peer’s hands, he landed hard onto the floor.
	Avrom shuffled back to his laboratory bench groggily and rubbed his hands over his stubble-ridden face. Lethargy bore its weight on his vitality by the hours and days, he busted without proper rest was taking its taxing toll. His hands were restless as it trembled ever so slightly, shivering as if needles had been driven into the nerves. The prickly sensations were ephemeral, yet it pulsed through his limbs in waves of intervals to remind him of his body yearning for a break. Even with such pitiful messages, even with his hands painstakingly fumbling on the equipment, even if his senses slightly numbing from time to time, commitment was what kept him going. His lab coat was a chaotic display on a once-pure white canvas, with coffee stains and chemical spills as its paint, not to forget the holes that those chemicals burnt through on it. He intended to get a fresh one, but he had not bothered to page a colleague to pass him one. He could not afford any distractions, any lapses in concentration, any form of nuisances, anything that could have shuffled and disrupted his train of thought. That was, until William showed up.
	The BSL-2 (BioSafety Level 2) laboratory was designated for Avrom and his partner only. The entrance to the laboratory is a narrow corridor that applied air disinfectants onto entering personnel to disinfect their persons. The main room was wide enough to provide four laboratory benches, each with shelves and cabinets supplying a range of necessities like gloves, micropipettes, disposable and sterile equipment etc. The side rooms were occupied by the machines, let it be the autoclaving system that purges and eliminates off any bacteria in a media, the biosafety cabinet for pathogenic experimentation or the supply cabinet filled with protective gear and so on, so forth. Past one of the side room, far from the entrance, leads to Avrom’s office. With the compiling mountains of files stacking on Avrom’s table, filled with orders, forms and projects to be read through, Avrom’s sanity was teetering on edge. He meant to address them in his spare time, but nonetheless.
	His mind wavered to and fro as hunger, thirst and sleep-deprivation succumbed him to a shambling character. There were times where it nearly lulled him to temptations. Anchoring himself with his hand on the bench, he tried to recollect his thoughts. When was the last time did he shave off the thorns on his jaw? When was the last time did he snack off in the cafeteria? When was the last time did he talk to someone about something, about their families, their problems, their life, anything at all? All these questions flooded him after being barded out of his mind. He stood motionless, unnerved as the questions rattled his mind. Right there and then was the only time did he became lucid about his welfare and state of mind. Of course, he had showers after long intervals of extensive research and experimental procedures, and he had quick bites and sips, and as much as he hated to admit, he caught twenty winks. Tempering with his research from any unsanitary practices, fluking his research if he snoozed, contaminating his research from any food or liquid particles, all were cardinal sins for him and as a result, his death warrant should his superiors hear of it. However, and obviously, he remained negligent of his health. How he wished he was given a day off. Was it selfish of him to ask for one day? He yearned for companionship, a feast, a drink, a good night’s sleep, his friends, his family…
	When was the last time did he contact his family? Lucille, the boys…
	William clasped his scraggy hands on Avrom’s arms and gave him support.
	“Christ, old man. I came to check on you. No one has seen you outside the lab since last week.” He spoke after clearing his throat.
	“Stop talking. I have work to do.”
	“Alright, take it easy.” William, with stains of spittle on his coat’s sleeves, assisted the ageing man. “I’m sorry I had to disobey orders from you, but nonetheless you had me worried.”
	“You damn mongoloid, I was in the middle of my work. How dare you disturb me? Are you even clean, you goddamn filth? If you even introduce any bacteria onto my bench…”
	“Hygiene? Speak for yourself, man. Also, have you forgotten that we are disinfected by the biological checkpoint outside? You’re just being paranoid.”
	“Disinfecting, not sterilizing. Has the concept of endospores ever pop up in your head before? Those thick-shell bacterial assholes can withstand almost everything under normal circumstances. Throw it in a non-ionizing radiation wave, or boiling temperatures, or bleach, or even fucking acid, it won’t die off.”
	“You don’t have to give me a refresher course about bacteria.” Grinning, William wrapped his arm around the 43-year-old man and helped him hobble towards the biological checkpoint.
	“Why can’t you use the intercom? Would it ever hurt you to not directly talk to me face-to-face?”
	“Even if I did, you’ll never answer.” William smirked.
	“If I find any forms of contamination to my petri dishes, test tubes or even on my flasks, I will personally…” Avrom dropped his sentence halfway as his headache began to pound.
	“Don’t worry. Relax, I will take full responsibility for a contamination breach. You can rest, I’ll take over from where you left 	off.”
	“Over my dead body, you will.” Avrom muttered.
	“At this rate, I can take your word for it. Tom, we’re heading out to the anteroom.”
	The FGE (Foundation of Genetic Enhancements) personnel through the glass panel from the other room gave them the thumbs up.
	The door behind them sealed shut and a gentle mist was injected into the room. The mist lacked any smell; it was not intoxicating or suffocating. If anything, it was refreshing.
	“William, the report with last week’s attempt.”
	“Yes sir. Our genetic therapy with our test subjects had a success rate of 20%...”
	Avrom was not concerned with most of the findings because he knew the root cause of these results flopping over. William yapped his ear off while they sunk into the bustling noisy atmosphere of the cafeteria. Many of his colleagues were young, fresh and callously motivated for what the future laid before them. None knew the cruel work beneath the faculty’s façade. None knew the brutal experiments. None knew the terrible truth about this specific project.
	Only Avrom and William, alongside a few other trusted colleagues that were assigned to this. After exchanging pleasantries with them, Avrom and William took a seat.
	“I have no appetite, Will.”
	His stomach growled.
	“Sure, you don’t. It’s my treat. What would you like?”
	“The usual.”
	“Alrighty, gimme a bit.”
	With William trotting away, Avrom pulled out his phone and paid a long overdue call to his family.
	… *Ring Ring* *Ring Ring* *Ring Ring*….
	“Hello?”
	“Lucille? It’s me. How’s everything s-”
	“Why are you calling me?”
	“I want to check on you guys. I haven’t been home for a while.”
	“I mean, why are you still calling me? Why are you still calling us?” Her voice stayed indifferent.
	“Look, I’m sorry, I am very sorr-”
	“You sold our son away. You prioritised your work over us, your loved ones. You abandoned us for your goals.”
	“I did not leave you. I promise I’ll be coming back this weekend, I swear.”
	“You? Coming back? Don’t you even dare. What had happened the last time you did return home?”
	“It was necessa-”
	“You stole our son away from me. You made him a toy. You made him your puppet, you sick fuck.”
	“It was not like I had a choice, and besides, it was for the greater good of mankind, a whole population could benefit from this breakthrough, I had to make that sacrifice.”
	“So that’s it? Your own son, your flesh and blood, discarded by the masses? Your own son, and you only see a vessel for your selfish desires? Is that what you want?”
	“…” Avrom’s side fell silent.
	“Curtis’s blood is in your hands. I hope you’re happy with that.”
	“…”
	“You valued everyone else over your own family.”
	“…”
	“If you ever call me again, or come back here, I’ll call the police.”
	With that, she hung up.
	William returned to the table whilst handling two trays.
	“What happen, man? You seem very grumpy.” His cheery tone reached out to the solemn man before him.
	“… How are the test subjects?”
	“Well, the gene therapy that was injected onto our test subjects were deemed futile and generally a failure. Almost all of them had displayed symptoms of irregularity after weeks of subjection to the formula. Further testing of it has confirmed the identity of the disease to be cancer, originating from the cells targeted and evolved into carcinogenic entities.”
	“How about Curtis?”
	“Due to his DNA, he is extremely compatible with our formula and has not displayed any forms of symptoms, or at least yet for the time being. However, those genomes, as per usual, are the only strands that can successfully evolve from the recombination of the foreign DNA introduced. By chance, only a marginal few in the world can consume such a formula.”
	“Fine.”
	“Either it is linked to the millions of various intermediate proteins tackling our solution, or the infinite combinations of DNA nucleotides linked to the telomeres and DNA repair system that correlates to the longevity of the individual, we have not derived the root cause of why this formula has not improved.”
	“Don’t worry, I might have a theory about that.”
	“Sounds great. Oh, one more thing.”
	“Hmm?”
	“Curtis has been asking to see his father. Will you?”
	Pensively, Avrom chomped down on his turkey drumstick.
	“His father is dead. I’m only a husk of him.”