The Obsession of Dr. Gemmel

Friday, January 11th, 1985

Ned stood still, watching Eliza wheel in the newest cadaver. The diminutive assistant worked with expert efficiency, using the hydraulic pumping mechanism on the gurney to raise the body up before undoing a latch and sliding the cadaver onto the rubber coated metal table at the center of the room. At the far wall, Dr. Gemmel sat hunched over a keyboard in front of a wall of monitors, checking all the programs and sensors, an almost frantic and frazzled air about him.

It was a cramped and cluttered laboratory, with weathered machines, numerous control panels and gauges, interwoven with insulated power cables and hollow tubing for carrying all kinds of fluids. Ned stood in a back corner watching Eliza and Dr. Gemmel work. Feeling positively useless.

Eliza laid a thin white sheet over the lower half of the body, then went about wiping it down. The cramped lab filled with the sharp scent of alcohol. Ned shivered as he stared at the pale corpse. Its utter stillness, and greyish skin made it seem almost fake.

Subject, Ned reminded himself. We call them ‘subjects’.

It was a fairly old subject; having sat in the freezer for nearly a month now. Dr. Gemmel said the process wouldn’t work on newly deceased subjects. How Dr. Gemmel knew that, Ned didn’t know. After thirty long years of constant work, five of which Ned had been there for, the procedure still had yet to work. Yet Dr. Gemmel remained adamant in his confidence that he could, in fact, reanimate the dead.

“All is set, Doctor,” Eliza said, pushing the gurney off to the side.

“Proceed,” Dr. Gemmel said without looking up. “Ned?”

“Sir,” Ned said as Eliza prepared the various tubes and cables – with their shiny sharp ends like oversized needles – for insertion into the subject. She paused before inserting them: Ned wasn’t supposed to be there for this part. Supposedly because he didn’t have enough experience and training.

“Get to the generator room please,” Dr. Gemmel said, turning around. The words cut Ned every time. But this time, he met them with determination.

“Sir, I think I should be trained for these operations in addition to my usual duties.”

Dr. Gemmel stood there, shock readily apparent in his posture as he stood there, backlit by the flickering monitors on the wall.

“Out of the question. Get to the generator room,” the doctor said firmly.

“But-”

“Now.” 

Ned flinched a little at the cold and shadowed look in Dr. Gemmel’s eyes. It was a dark and hollow thing that Ned saw behind those tired eyes, but then it was gone. The doctor’s expression softened a little and he turned back to the monitors.

Ned stood still for a moment and Eliza gave him an apologetic look before putting up her face mask. Ned hung his head and shuffled toward the door. He closed the heavy metal door of the laboratory and sealed it, then dejectedly marched down a spiral staircase of grated metal to fulfill his assigned duties.

The generator room was much smaller than the laboratory above. It was a closet really. The walls were completely covered with pipes and gauges, many of them rather haphazardly placed. Mounted on a pipe, next to a large cluster of gauges was a large switch and an intercom system. Ned checked the levels on the gauges; the various fluid pressures, and the power levels. And, then the intercom crackled to life.

“Green light,” Eliza’s fuzzy voice said.

Ned threw the switch and a surge of power was sent roaring up into the lab above. Ned could hear the sound of it and wished he could see what was happening up there. He was so distracted by thoughts of what it must be like that he nearly forgot to monitor all the levels. All seemed to go off without a hitch. But as usual, when the process was over, Ned dutifully turned off the power switch, closed various pressure valves, then returned upstairs in time to see Eliza wheeling away the subject. Still dead.

Wednesday, March 20th, 1985

“He’s just tired, you know,” Eliza said to Ned as they cleaned sensor equipment together. Dr. Gemmel was currently away, procuring a new subject. The last one had been completely fried a few weeks back. “I’m sure that after this next round of tests, he’ll be happy to train you on lab procedures.”

“That might’ve been true four years ago. But now, he’s just too…focused,” Ned said, scrubbing away at the charred residue on the end of the sensor.

“Focused is a good thing though, right?” Eliza said.

“Usually.” Ned looked around the lab at the beat up equipment. “He barely sleeps anymore, he’s not eating…”

He’s starting to look like a subject himself.

“Well, it is his life’s work. Keep in mind that he’s been doing this for far longer than either of us have been here. One can forgive him for becoming a bit obsessed.” Eliza said, waving her scrub brush at him. But Ned could tell she didn’t completely believe her own words.

“It’s more than that. He’s not just obsessed. He’s…rabid; clawing at a breakthrough that might never come,” Ned said, shivering as he remembered the piercing look in Dr. Gemmel’s eyes from a couple months back.

“I think he just believes that we’re on the verge of a breakthrough,” Eliza said.

Ned scoffed and resumed his scrubbing. “Thirty years, thousands of tests, and no results to show for it. I imagine most people would’ve given up by now.”

“Life’s work, remember?”

“What kind of life is it though? To spend every waking hour obsessively poring over sensor readings and data. Barely sleeping, barely eating, alienating everyone and everything else in your life. What kind of work could be worth that?” Ned held his breath. He had never voiced his misgivings out loud before. Always, his doubts about the work had remained confined to his thoughts, to be buried as soon as they appeared. He could feel Eliza’s eyes on him.

“You sound like you want to quit,” Eliza said.

“No,” Ned said, finally looking up and meeting Eliza’s gaze. “What we’re trying to do is important. I just…”

Eliza’s posture suddenly changed. “You’re afraid. You don’t want to quit, and that’s what scares you: that you might one day become as obsessed as the doctor.”

Ned clenched his jaw, but didn’t deny the words. He just sat there, looking into Eliza’s big brown eyes.

“So why have you stayed?” Eliza asked.

“The work is important,” Ned repeated, looking away. He wasn’t sure he liked confronting his fears and emotions. There was a reason he preferred to bury things.

“But why is it important to you?”

Ned paused. The air felt deathly still around him. Maybe it was time to face things.

“I lost someone,” Ned said quietly, not able to look up into Eliza’s eyes.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything from before-,” he reached up and felt at the scars on his chest, vision blurring. “I was in an accident; car crash. Dr. Gemmel says I was the only one in the car, that there was no one else. But, the thing is…I know that someone died. I can’t explain how, but I know it.”

“You don’t remember though?” Eliza asked, brow furrowed.

Ned shook his head and wiped his eyes. “I don’t remember anything from before.”

“I’m sorry,” Eliza said, putting a hand over Ned’s.

“It’s alright. I can’t complain. Dr. Gemmel’s been very good to me; taking me in, letting me help with the work.” Ned sighed, reluctantly extracting his hand from beneath Eliza’s, and started scrubbing again. “That’s another part of why I’m so worried. I know he’s a good man, I’ve seen it. And I just…I hate to see him like this.”

“Yeah,” Eliza agreed. “He really needs a vacation, doesn’t he?”

Ned sniffed and smiled. “He really does. A break would do him good.”

“Do you think we could convince him of that?” Eliza said.

“You could, maybe. He might actually listen if you told him.”

“He values my work and my input, but I don’t think he’d really listen to me about this sort of thing. But it’s you he actually cares about.”

“Me?”

“He has a soft spot for you. I’ve seen it.”

Ned furrowed his brow. “I suppose I could bring it up when he gets back…”

“It’ll give you a few days to think about what to say, how to bring it up, and all that.”

Just then, the lab phone rang. Eliza got up and answered it, her answers to whomever was on the other end brief. Then she hung up and whirled around to look at Ned.

“Speak of the devil,” Eliza said.

“That was him?”

Eliza nodded. “You better start thinking of how you’re going to bring it up. He’s coming back tomorrow and wants the lab ready to immediately perform the procedure.”

Thursday, March 21st, 1985

Eliza looked up at Ned after finishing prepping the newest subject. She gave him an encouraging smile and an almost imperceptible nod. At the monitor array on the wall, Dr. Gemmel clacked away at the keyboard, almost frantic. He was definitely getting worse. Ned nodded back to Clara then cleared his throat loudly. Dr. Gemmel didn’t react. So, Ned cleared his throat a little louder this time. Again, no reaction.

“Dr. Gemmel,” Ned said, voice coming out a little weaker than he would have liked.

“What is it?” Dr. Gemmel said, voice harsh.

“I think it would be good if we all took a break,” Ned declared matter-of-factly.

“A…break?” Dr. Gemmel said, pausing his typing.

“Well, not right now, of course,” Ned said quickly, feeling a little flustered. “But, after the procedure and such. Perhaps if we all took some time to relax and catch up on rest…”

Dr. Gemmel turned around to look at him and Ned saw hints of that dark look in his eyes again. Ned cleared his throat uncomfortably and forced himself to keep eye contact.

“It would be beneficial for everyone to take some rest time and come back with fresh eyes and fresh energy…”

Ned trailed off, swallowing hard as Dr. Gemmel approached him.

“Ned,” The doctor said quietly, an edge to his voice.

“Yes sir?”

“Are you trying to undermine this entire operation?”

“No sir. I just-”

“We are on the verge of a breakthrough here,” Dr. Gemmel said, stepping right up to Ned and seeming to tower over him. His voice grew louder with every word. “We’re so close, right on the precipice of what is the most revolutionary technology known to man. The culmination of a lifetime of hard work about to be made manifest, and you want to TAKE A VACATION!?”

Ned shrank back. He glanced at Eliza, who looked on with worry. Ned summoned every ounce of resolve he had left and tried to stand as tall as he could. He met Dr. Gemmel’s shadowed and hungry eyes.

“Sir, I don’t like what this is doing to you, to any of us. And I think we should take some time away from this project.”

Anger and frustration boiled behind Dr. Gemmel’s bloodshot eyes. Then, for a moment, his expression softened. He was about to speak when Eliza chimed in.

“I agree with Ned, sir,” she said.

Dr. Gemmel whirled around, all softness vanishing in an instant. “I see.” Dr. Gemmel let out a hollow laugh, breathing hard. “You’ve both given up on the work, have you? You can’t stand to lose on the glory of this revelation and intend to drag me away with you! Well, you’ll see. You’ll see!”

Before Ned could say anything, Dr. Gemmel shoved past him and approached the subject on the table. He then began inserting the cables and tubes into the corpse, something Ned had never been allowed to see before. Watching all the long needles being inserted didn’t unnerve Ned as much as he thought it would have, and it looked somewhat straightforward.

So why hasn’t he ever let me help, or even see it? Ned was shaken from his thoughts when Dr. Gemmel spoke again.

“It is my work! I can do it with you!” he growled at Eliza before turning to Ned. “And I can do it without you! You’ll see!”

Then, Dr. Gemmel opened a panel on the wall, revealing a large switch and an array of gauges and valves that looked very familiar to Ned. Dr. Gemmel threw the switch, opened a few valves, and Ned heard the familiar hum of the generator’s energy transfer. Fluids flowed in and out of the body and electricity crackled. The body on the table tensed up and the laboratory became filled with the sounds of crackling electricity and hissing steam. Sparks burst above the table and the body relaxed then seized up again.

Dr. Gemmel looked over at the monitors then at the body, a rabid hunger in his eyes, and Ned noticed the extent of how absolutely and utterly exhausted the doctor looked. Hunched posture, dark circles beneath the eyes, and the many wrinkles and lines on his face that Ned hadn’t noticed before. And there were tears coming from his eyes. Behind the anger and frustration, Ned saw desperation. 

“Come ooonn,” Dr. Gemmel said. “Come oooon!!”

More sparks burst and steam began to rise from the body on the table. Then, with a loud bang and a burst of light, the machinery went dead, the body went limp, and all was deathly silent. All eyes were fixed on the body on the table, and…

Nothing.

Dr. Gemmel let out a scream filled with disappointment and anger, the scream of a broken man, and fell to his knees. Eliza ran over to the wall, flipped the switch back, and closed off the valves. Ned furrowed his brow.

All this time, he could have had me up here in the lab to work the generator, Ned realized, looking at the hidden panel. So why didn’t he?

Before Ned could voice his question, Dr. Gemmel leaped to his feet and went over to the body on the table; the subject. 

“Why won’t it work?” Dr. Gemmel said. “Why won’t it work!? I know it works! I know it works!”

Dr. Gemmel began frantically checking the tubes and cables attached to the subject, then went over to the monitors and pulled up the sensor data, all the while muttering. “It works, I know it does.”

“Sir?” Ned said tentatively. He had so many questions but right now just wanted Dr. Gemmel to calm down. Eliza stepped up by Ned’s side as Dr. Gemmel frantically went about the lab, checking the equipment and the subject. Ned caught a glimpse of his eyes and was again scared at what he saw there.

“It works, I know it does! It should-,” Dr. Gemmel cut off, breathing hard, and leaned against the desk in front of the monitor array.

“Dr. Gemmel, please,” Ned said, a tear slipping from his eye. Eliza grabbed his hand.

“I KNOW IT WORKS!” Dr. Gemmel roared, sweeping the binders and sensor equipment from the desk and sending it to the floor with a mighty crash. Ned flinched.

“Dr. Gemmel,” Ned repeated.

“It works! It works! It should work!” Dr. Gemmel said, turning around to look at Ned. 

“You keep saying that, but how do you know!?” Ned yelled.

“Because I’ve done it before!”

Silence.

They locked eyes through wisps of swirling smoke and Ned felt an odd sense of foreboding come over him. Suddenly Dr. Gemmel’s anger was gone, replaced by an air of almost apathetic defeat.

“What?” Ned said.

Dr. Gemmel looked away and didn’t respond. Ned let go of Eliza’s hand and took a few tentative steps toward him.

“When? Who?” Ned asked, a pit forming in his stomach. “Show me.”

Ned held Dr. Gemmel’s gaze until the weary scientist turned away to face the monitor array, a look of sadness coming over him. He typed in a password and navigated through old footage and files until he pulled up a well-buried subfolder. There was a certain trepidation to his movements as he opened a file, the footage from various angles filling the many monitors. Ned’s heart beat faster as he watched.

In the grainy footage, he could see a body lying on the central table, hooked up to the power cables and fluid tubes. The lab was different. It looked…newer. And Dr. Gemmel was alone as he worked, his blurry form operating machinery with a frantic air.

Ned stepped closer. “Who is it?” he asked, heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he reached up to touch one of the monitors showing a top down view of the body. The face was too blurry to make out. Eliza gasped loudly from behind.

“Haven’t you ever wondered about the scars?” Dr. Gemmel whispered as the body in the footage began shaking.

Ned’s vision blurred and he involuntarily reached up and touched the scars on his own chest, and his heart dropped to his stomach. Looking over at the body still lying dead on the table, he now realized that the scars were in the exact places where the cables and fluid tubes had been inserted.

“Haven’t you thought it strange that you can’t remember the accident, or anything before it?” Dr. Gemmel continued. “You can’t even remember your own family.”

In the recording, Dr. Gemmel was now leaning over the body on the table, which had stopped moving. The Dr. Gemmel in the video appeared to be crying. Ned’s eyes remained glued to the footage. And then, the corpse in the footage took a sudden breath.

“I know the process works, because it worked before,” Dr. Gemmel said in a low voice, almost as if to himself. “I brought back my brother. I brought back you.”