Friday, October 7, 2011

"The Vitruvian Man" Part 2 of 5


“What really interests me is whether or not God had any choice in the creation of the world.” - Albert Einstein

“Close to one billion dollars have been spent creating this creature. I refuse to wait another day while the two of you attempt to get it to speak. He has enjoyed a charmed life thus far. No more. Pain. It has never experienced pain. Let us see if he will speak with 2000 volts of electricity coursing through his body. Now get started. Now.”

And that was the end of it. The Big Heads have decided that Victor must be tortured in an attempt to make him speak. Dr. Rivers and I leave and do not say a word until we are back in my office. Dr. Rivers sits again on the edge of my desk and stares at my wall which is covered in plaques. Jim enters the room without knocking.

“So?” he asks.

“We torture the worlds first perfect man” Dr. Rivers says.

“Oh, bullshit!” Jim shouts. “Why in the hell do they want to torture the guy? He hasn’t done anything!”

“That is the problem” I say. “If he would have at least yawned this would not be happening. They want us to electrocute him.”

“This is gonna end bad” Jim says. “Have they never seen a horror movie? You make a creature and mess with him and you know what happens next? He fucking loses his mind and kills everyone! Its Frankenstein! I’m not doing this!”

“Yes, you are” Dr. Rivers says. “You do not have a choice. Do I even need to remind you of what happened to Tammy?”

“Jesus…” I moan.

Tammy aka Dr. Tamara Rhodes aka She Who Shall Not Be Mentioned was a researcher early in the program. She was a team player. All for making the perfect human. But the day she heard his first heartbeat she decided that we were wrong and should not play God. No one knows what happened to her. There was no explanation given from The Big Heads. No one bothered to ask. There are rumors that she is in a petri dish on Level 6. Some say she was dissected and will be used as the prototype for the next experiment. I would rather not think about Tammy.

The next day the three of us are seated across from Victor. For the past two hours we have done everything possible to make him respond to us. Jim even tried to convince Dr. Rivers to flash him. For a moment I believed that she would. Anything to keep us from having to torture this man. There is a beep and the door slides open. Ripley and Timms enter.

“Is he ready?” Ripley asks.

“To have his fucking brain fried?” Jim asks. “Sure. You bet he is! Look at how excited he is! Hey, V-Man! You ready to feel terrible for the first time in your life?!” Victor just stares at him and then at Ripley.

“Creepy son of a bitch” Timms says. “Get him in these” he says and tosses a pair of black pants and a white shirt. “Guys upstairs say this will keep him from, you know, bursting into flames or whatever.”

“’Or whatever’” Dr. Rivers says. “How very professional of you.”

“Have you gained weight?” Timms asks Dr. Rivers.

“Yes, I have” she replies. “I am carrying around the extra money I make. Twice as much as you the last time I checked.”

“Enough” Ripley says. “Let’s get this over with.”

Half an hour later we are in a room with eight chairs but only one looks like it was made to hurt. All of us are here to see this, even Jim. Seated in the front are Dr. Rivers, Ripley, me, and Dr. Pruet. In the second row is Jim, Timms, and Dr. K’Malan. Victor is brought in by security that never speak, never run, and never show their faces. I wonder how much they even know about this program. For all they know we are a bunch of fetish afficianados about to watch a one man show. Victor does not resist.

They place him in the chair and place thick straps around his ankles, wrists, torso, around his waist, and neck. He does not resist. A slight hum is heard and a large spike emerges behind Victor’s head. The guards leave quietly. I can feel Dr. Rivers tense next to me.

“Je ne te quitterai point que je ne t'aie vu pendu” Dr. K’Malan says. “I pray we are doing the right thing.”

“What he say?” Ripley asks.

“’I will not leave you until I have seen you hanged’” Dr. Rivers says. “From Jean Baptiste Poquelin Moliere.” She turns to face Dr. K’Malan. “As far as praying goes, I think that prayer and God cease to exist once we put on our lab coats.”

“Oh, get over yourself” Timms says. “God never made a perfect man. We did. I mean, maybe he did. But you see how that ended.”

“Apparently being perfect gets you nailed to a cross” Jim says. “Or Kentucky fried.”

Another low hum quiets everyone. The large spike crackles with electricity before stabbing Victor in the back of his neck. He does not scream. But a new expression crosses his face. One we have not seen in him before.

Confusion.

The spike emerges lightly dripping spinal fluid and blood. Victor looks at us as if to ask, “Why are you not helping me?” The spike enters once again. This time Victor gasps. Dr. Rivers grabs my hand for a moment before releasing it. The spike emerges and once again stabs at Victor. He opens his mouth wide in a silent scream.

“Say something, you fool” I whisper to myself. Blood runs down his shoulders, staining his blonde hair. His crystal blur eyes search the room for something he can not ask for. Help. “How much longer must this go on?” I ask.

“Until he says something” Timms says.

“He is in too much pain to speak now” Dr. Pruet says. She is the newest member of the research team and also the youngest. When she speaks it is low, direct, and definite. There is never a trace of emotion in her voice or reactions. I turn to see her simply watching Victor being tortured as if she were watching an ant crawling amongst spilled sugar. “He’ll be dead in minutes unless he says something.”

The spike enters once again, this time a stream of blood springs from Victor’s neck, causing Jim to gasp. I watch him attempt to rise from his chair and then the sound of his rear end being slammed back in place. No doubt by Timms. Victor’s hands clenched as the spike penetrates his skin sending thousands of volts of electricity into his body.

“Is this what it was like for God to watch His son die?” Dr. Rivers asks.

“No” I respond. “God knew what would happen to his child the moment He was created. None of us could have foreseen this.” Victor gasps once again, this time blood issuing from his mouth. “That is enough!” I shout.

Victor’s hands relax as the spike is drawn from his neck. Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth. His entire body goes limp. The room is silent. None of us stand. None of us check to see whether or not Victor is still alive.

“Back to the drawing board” Timms says as he stands to leave. He stops when a sound comes from Victor. He is alive!

“D…d…d…d…d…” he says lightly. We all stand and listen to him. “D…”

“What is he saying?” Jim asks.

“D…d…d…d…”

“Something about ‘D’” Ripley whispers. “I can’t tell.”

“D…d…d…”

“Where in the hell are those guards?” Dr. Rivers asks.

“D…d…”

“Or at least the medics” Jim says. “Okay, guys! You got what you wanted! He’s speaking! Now get him some damned help!”

“D…”

“Say it!” I shout.

“Death.”

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