Project Un: Maker

“Time and time again we have surpassed our limitations. We sail the stars. What horizon lies beyond us that we cannot grasp with patience hands?” - Captain’s log, R. Gunson, Paradigm Prime

[Subject: Dr. L. Maker]

[Bio: Doctor of genetic sciences, clearance level 4]

[Location: Lab 09]

[Archive LT: Live]

[Designation: Protocol 1507_Restricted Observation]

“We are what we make,” Dr. Lawrence Maker muttered at the monstrosity before him. The shrapnel covered, multi limbed, beast of a man howled at the two way mirror. Spittle splattered the view as drool painted the beast’s cell floor. Lawrence twitched at the audio feedback of the screaming monster. The noise could not break his stare, nor could the arrival of his mentor. Dr. Shadrel Hiethran walked up brushing a speck of lint off his pure white lab coat. 

“Maker,” Shadrel said, calling for attention. Lawrence continued to stare forward. “MAKER!”

The assistant sitting at his right elbowed him hard in the thigh. Pain at least could get his eyes pried away from his creation. With a hand on the shoulder to thank his assistant, he turned to face Shadrel. Expecting wrath and hellfire, Lawrence was not surprised to see Shadrel’s frustration. The man threw his hands in the air, shaking his head at Lawrence.

“This is not your division, Maker!” Shadrel. “We have an 11 for an Aexian Trial. We’re behind schedule for infant transitioning, now tell me why the hell you’re here!”

Lawrence shifted his eyes toward the cell, but forced himself to look down instead. He would go back to staring if he saw it again. The beast shrieked again. It’s scream fading to quiet as an assistant lowered the volume. So we shall be deaf to its screams as well?

“It is my creation,” Lawrence said. 

“Your creation?” Shadrel nearly laughed. “It is your most recent failure in an ocean of mistakes! We are meant to be preparing the human race for planetary salvation, not admiring filth.”

Lawrence drew in a breath. Subject 057 slammed a pair of fists onto the mirror. Its cell switched to red lights. Alarms faintly sounded inside. The assistants calmly made a call to security. 

“Dr. Hiethran,” Lawrence began. “You did not inform me of the Aexian Trial.”

Shadrel rolled his eyes. “You’re aware of it now. Do you constantly ignore your messages?” 

Lawrence drew in another breath to steady himself. The assistant called for security protocol 13 to be initiated. Moments later the red lit cell could be seen to be filling with gas. 

“You don’t send proper messages, sir,” Lawrence said. Shadrel’s eyes verged on bursting from his head. Before there could be a response, Lawrence continued. “It is nearly impossible for me to prepare for an Aexian Trial moments before it is to be attempted. You cannot simply arrange my schedule to your whim and demand I follow it.”

“I do what I bloody please!” Shadrel responded. With a thumb jab at his chest, Shadrel’s voice rose. “I am your superior! Do not think you can speak so freely to me, Maker!”

“Dr. Maker,” Lawrence said. 

Shadrel dismissed the comment with his hand. “You are what I tell you that you are! Your dismissal of rank will put you under severe review. Understand that could very well mean removal of your title and a trip back home!” 

“We don’t have a functioning ship to send me home, sir,” Lawrence said calmly. 

“I have no qualms with shipping your arrogant ass into the void in a trashcan,” Shadrel spat. “Now get to Lab 03, or I will have you be the next test subject!” 

Shadrel spun on his heel and made toward the door. 

“Unauthorized testing of a D.A.W.N. member is prohibited and punishable by execution, Dr.” Lawrence said. Shadrel let loose a string of profanities, but Lawrence heard an assistant chuckle at his response. Lawrence turned to see subject 057 still standing in the cell. Its mouth wide in an inhuman grin, its body shook in unheard laughter. Lawrence tilted his head in confusion. The monster did the same. 

“Johnson,” Lawrence said. “Call for a security team. Code Black.”

The assistant stared at Lawrence. “Sir?”

“Code black.” Lawrence said in a steady voice. “Now, Johnson.”

He fumbled around, but the assistant eventually called it in. 

“Feona,” Lawrence said. “Sound back on please,”

“Yes sir,” She brought back the sound of alarms and vile laughs. 

Lawrence did not trust an assistant to do what he felt needed to be done. With a few key presses, Lawrence found the mic. All three scientists stared at the creature as death sirens wailed and footsteps rushed about. 

“Can you hear me, 057?” Lawrence said. The monster’s smile faded. A growl rumbling through the speakers. “I don’t mean to offend, but 057 if all I am aware of calling you.”

Four hands opened to flat palms as if to gesture to all of itself. A word, if such a primal voice could speak, sounded. Lawrence frowned and asked for it to repeat what it said. Two of his limbs clasped hands above its head. Two limbs made praying hands in front of its chest. 

“AADDDAAAM!!!” it roared.

“Adam?” Lawrence said. It nodded. 

“MAAAKEEER,” 057 roared with fingers pointed at him. Those same fingers then pointed at itself. “ADAM!”

“Your name is Adam,” Lawrence said. “As mine is Maker?” 

057 nodded. 

“Do you know what you are, Adam?” Lawrence asked. He could hear the radio chatter of troops seconds away. With urgency, Lawrence leaned in and asked again. “What are you?”

Four hands clapped its chest. With hurt and pain in its eyes, it spoke.

“Human,” It said in a strained voice.

Lawrence held a hand to his mouth. What was he to say to that?

“Human,” it said. “As you Human.”

The door to Adam’s cell flew open and a squad of troops stood there.

“WAIT!” Lawrence cried. He watched with hand outstretched as the two way mirror was coated with gore as gunfire filled the room. Lawrence met the eyes of his creation. He met the eyes of Adam and watched them go dim. 

“We are what we make…” Lawrence muttered as he stared at the dead body of subject 057.