“Eclipse, please start the recording.”
The man was standing in an underground laboratory, in front of some sort of glass container.
His long greyish-brown hair was a mess and he was showing signs of going bald.
But this clearly did not bother the man or anybody else, for he was alone in the laboratory.
“Recording started.”
A female voice rang from somewhere mid-air.
“Experiment 347, run 8.”
The man went over to an antique looking computer screen and pressed a big red button.
He resumed staring at the glass container through his thick glasses.
Inside was a clear liquid while on top a pink substance was connected to a whole bundle of tubes supplying nutrients to it. It would function as a placenta for the new life he was trying to create. It must have been the thousandth time he had started this experiment or a version thereof.
The lights dimmed.
A syringe moved by a robotic arm followed its pre-programmed course and inserted some DNA into a cell floating in a container on the arm and then proceeded to push the cell into the liquid.
The man fixed a camera onto the location the new cell was now floating freely. He then proceeded to watch a magnified version on a modern looking computer screen.
At first, nothing happened.
The man took a sip of his coffee.
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“Guide the nutrients.”
Under the stimuli of a few electric currents a faint string started forming from the placenta and went into the direction of the single cell.
It didn’t take long and the cell started absorbing the nutrients, visibly growing.
And yet, nothing more happened.
The man sighed.
“Strengthen the amplitude.”
An electric current went straight for the cells. Briefly, the cell shuddered, stopping once the impulse was gone with no more reaction.
The man sat back on his chair, glancing at a few other tubes containing some past failures of his experiments that had reached much further stages.
“This isn’t working. It has been 15 years. I likely need newer DNA to even have a chance to succeed. But that makes this whole Experiment almost pointless for me.”
He ruffled his hair. His experiments had gone better and better, up to one point. From then on even the earlier stages of his experiment seemed to fail; not even the embryo started growing properly. Just a few years back, the troubles only started when he was starting the actual experiment.
But now, the base DNA he was using - his dead son’s - seemed to have degraded too much.
“Eclipse, stop the recording. I will be going out.”
“Recording has ended. Do you wish to abort the experiment?”
The man sighed, but he did not answer. A new chapter of his life was going to start soon. He might return, but it seemed unlikely.
He had received an invitation to teach at a university. And while he had pushed the matter back because he wished to complete his experiments, it now seemed to be his best option.
After a long while, he answered.
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be back any time soon. Monitor the laboratory and keep everything operational. Destroy evidence of illegal experimentation if someone forcefully enters the laboratory.”
“Understood, sir.”
The man left his laboratory through the secret entrance in his basement and closed the hatch, hiding it seamlessly under the wood panelling and proceeded to the door.
He took a last look back and turned off the lights.