Life Forces

Andre Bouchard was exhausted. Between his instructional classes at the University and his passion for scientific experimentation, he was running on fumes these days.

Still, the experiment could not wait.

It was in its crucial stages.

The man watched the embryo float peacefully by the glass partition, the tiny body suspended in the bluish, green liquid that nourished and sustained the still lifeless form.

It had been six hellish months of failure after failure but this time, the experiment seemed viable.

The embryo had maintained a constant state of fluctuation which meant, soon now...very soon, the man could attempt the actual transfer of stem cells needed to possibly activate the life forces.

Andre had told no one of this research project, of course.

Few would understand the complexity, in the first place and most, would gasp with repulsion at the very concept presented.

Bouchard had always been an outcast in the scientific community. Which was fine with the man, for his ideologies were far advanced of any socially accepted norms.

Andre Bouchard thought outside the box.

Some said, so far outside, they should lock the door and throw away the key. Never allowing him to practice any of the far-fetched, improbable concepts he envisioned.

They said the same of the first Doctors of Medicine who wished to examine the corpses of the dead.

And look how such methods advanced the understanding of all aspects of the human condition in reality.

Short-sightedness was the enemy of all scientific research. Moralistic objections from pious, religious fanatics who would be the first to approve any objectionable practices if it meant such things would save their own worthless hides, in Andre’s opinion.

The man sat, wiping his glasses with a clean cloth.

He sighed heavily, bowing his head, feeling the tiredness descend.

Perhaps he would chance a few hours sleep. Start fresh on the morrow.

He would not leave the child, of course but...just a few moments’ rest would keep his mind fresh enough and alert to finish the test.

Yes...just a few moments.

The man lay his head on to his hand, his arms forming a cushion on the desktop of his lab table.

He closed his eyes and...drifted.

Andre didn’t know what awoke him, but he did know he had been sound asleep. It was a rather loud crash which made the man start, sitting straight up, his senses blinking alert and functioning.

His weary gaze searched about the lab.

The man stood quickly, gasping his shock and surprise.

Bouchard rushed forward, stopping in his tracks.

The rather large glass container which formerly housed the embryo was shattered, beyond recognition, shards lining the flooded titled floor.

The man hardly noted the destruction for something more prevalent took his attention.

On the same tiled floor, in the midst of the watery mess...lay a naked man, fully formed, curled into a fetal position.

Bouchard approached cautiously, his senses totally stunned. His infamous brain was not functioning at all. He stared...transfixed then...

“Oh my god!” the man rushed to the embryo, gathering it off the dirt of the floor. He cradled the little thing protectively, hurrying to the table. The man removed his lab coat, wrapping the small bundle carefully.

The baby was blue and lifeless.

Its tiny face peacefully devoid of any expression.

Andre’s heart constricted and he swallowed the threat of tears.

An arm came out of nowhere, reaching around the man’s frame.

Andre, jumped, turning his head, staring at the chiseled features staring back at him.

A hand came into view, which was laid on the baby’s tiny chest.

Andre pushed that hand aside, his brow furrowed critically. “Leave it be!” he had not meant to snap so harshly.

Bouchard stepped back a tad, glancing up and down the nudity of the man who now stood, his handsome features scowling right back to a totally dumbfounded scientist.

The man’s hand once again, covered the baby’s chest, energy passing between the contact.

Bouchard shielded his eyes for the brightness hurt, then...the aura disappeared as suddenly as it...appeared.

The baby’s soft mews filled the strained silence.

Andre’s mouth fell agape for the infant was now wiggling about, its miniature arms waving frantically in the air.

The man stared, unable to move or function as yet.

The baby scrunched up its face, which turned red with growing disenchantment then...it began to cry...loudly.

Bouchard hastily picked it up, soothingly rocking it back and forth, trying to shush the cat-a-walling. All to no avail.

The man stared at the other younger one.

“...Are you...God?” The only logical assumption for, this thing had just given life where no life had been. Andre had witnessed the miracle with his own eyes.

Or had he? Was he still...asleep?

Was this a horribly realistic dream conjured by his exhausted brain?

The naked man looked at the baby, crossed to the window seat by the French doors, curled into a ball then...slept.

Bouchard continued to stare, but the baby’s infernal racket called for attention.

The man’s brain kicked in. “...Alright.” He whispered hesitantly, holding the infant closer for its little hands felt cold. “Alright, do not fret. I will...feed you.”

The man chanced one last glance to the peacefully sleeping man...then climbed the stairs into the kitchen of his home. Not however, before locking the French doors securely.

He remembered at the time...how stupid can one be.

Locking the door that God...could not escape.

But, lock it he did then...turned his attention to the squalling baby.