The call was not uncommon; as skilled as the doctor was with genetics, some basic computer functions seemed to elude him. Being the system administrator for the lab, Mike was often called by various staff members to resolve issues with the computers on site. Still, some intangible variable about this request made Mike uneasy for reasons he couldn't clearly identify.
Mike proceeded to the lab as was his routine. He rode his bicycle the six blocks from his apartment to the lab, locked the bike in its usual spot and swiped his ID badge at the side door to gain entrance.
He strolled down the hall and up two flights of stairs until he reached the doorway to Dr. Singh's work station. The door was open as normal so Mike made his way to where the computers were located. He had a basic understanding of some of the doctor's equipment he passed on the way; mass spectrometers, centrifuges, microscopes, glassware and other esoteric implements.
"Greetings, Mister Keene," the doctor hailed as Mike entered the rear office which housed the room's computers.
"Hi Doc," Mike replied impulsively as he studied the scene before him. The doctor's light gray hair was more unkempt than usual, and signs of stress exacerbated by fatigue were clearly visible through his brown complexion. "Is everything okay?"
Doctor Singh regarded Mike for a long moment and replied, "Okay?"
"Yes, okay," repeated Mike, "You said on the phone you couldn't access your research files."
"Oh, no, there is no problem with the files," the doctor replied with a shrug, "I have called you here to show you something. Please accompany me to the genetics lab."
This request immediately amplified the feeling of uneasiness that Mike had felt after the doctor called him. But, he was curious to see what the doctor had been so consumed with for the past few months so he shook his head and followed the doctor's lead.
Shortly the pair entered a dimly lit room full of equipment Mike couldn't identify, except for one item in the center which he could: a crib.
"I hope you do not mind that I borrowed some of your genetic material Mister Keene," the doctor said absently as he studied the readouts on what appeared to be a medical monitor. "You were an ideal candidate for this experiment."
"Experiment? An ideal candidate for-" Mike stopped mid-sentence as he got close enough to see the occupant of the crib.
At first glance it looked like a baby covered in fur, with some features being more animal than human. Mike stared into brown eyes almost identical to his own, framed by a face with a pink, wet nose, a mouth and chin narrow like that of a feline but somewhat flattened, pointy ears positioned higher on the head than that of a human and covered in gray fur marked with some patches of black.
Mike stood for a long while absorbing what he was looking at, and the doctor stood idly by, apparently content to allow him this time to study his new creation.
"One could say you are the father," Doctor Singh said softly after a few moments, causing Mike to jump as if startled. "I have successfully combined your DNA with that of a snow leopard."
"How could you do this?! Aren't there laws against this sort of thing? Ethical and medical considerations? You can't just steal someone's DNA and create this, this thing!" Mike yelled, aghast at the Pandora's box that had just been opened by using a part of himself.
The doctor nodded gravely. "I am not God, yet I have tread too far into that realm which is His. I must atone."
Mike looked at the doctor with a dumbfounded expression, mouth half open, as if witnessing something which awe has rendered speechless. From a desk drawer the doctor produced a revolver, calmly, deliberately. He positioned the barrel of the gun under his chin. Mike reached out a hand as if to stop the action, but he was too far away to make any difference.
"She is yours now. Take the research files. Hide them, and hide her."
Before Mike could even consider a response, the doctor pulled the trigger. Blood spewed out from the newly formed wound under the chin; the heart pumping life out of the doctor through the new exit he had created for it.
Mike's mind reeled. He had seen violence in videos and was prepared for the sight of it, but the reality was much more intense than he had ever imagined. The strong, coppery smell. The slurping, splashing noise created by the injury. The sheer amount of blood. The look in the man's eyes.
Mike turned and vomited. Then he became aware of another noise; a mewling, crying plea unlike anything he had heard before. He considered his options. Would it be more merciful to kill the doctor's creation now? What kind of medical complications could result from this kind of experiment? Will it even survive if given the chance?
She. He remembered the doctor had called it a she. Did she have a name?
He walked over to the crib, wrapped his progeny in a blanket and tried to soothe her. He made sure she couldn't see what had become of her creator.
Thoughts?