Dead Hunt

CHAPTER 4 – The Proposal

“So what you are saying, Professor Heslin,” one of them finally broke the cold silence that swallowed the room, “is that you want to bring the dead back to life? Sounds more like science fiction than a business investment.”

Several chuckles followed. Heslin stood up abruptly, silencing the chuckles. His thick, wavy hair, once a rich brown, was now a bright shade of gray and made Heslin look older than his forty years. He stared intently at the man for the briefest of seconds, but it was enough to make the man shrink in his chair. Heslin broke his piercing stare then looked at the men with smiling eyes as he began the speech he had prepared for exactly this moment.

“Science fiction. I’ve heard that before,” Heslin’s lips curled into a boyish smirk. “From scientists no less.”

The men smiled with him, the tension in the room subsiding.

“Gentlemen,” Heslin continued in a commanding voice, “I could go on and on about how the mere thought of being able to hear a human voice across hundreds of miles on copper wires was thought to be mere science fiction; yet Bell created his telephone, and let’s not forget Marconi. Sending messages across the ocean without the wires! Preposterous!”

Heslin paused a practiced pause, scanning the eyes of his audience. “How many inventions have we witnessed since their time? Artificial hearts, the iron lung, computers, cell phones, satellites… The list of science fiction turned reality goes on and on.”

Heslin paused as he pulled a tiny locket from his vest. He opened it carefully, glanced at it, and smiled. None of the men dared interrupt him. He snapped the locket shut.

“I’m sure everyone in this room believes it is the death of my little Robin that is fueling this project.”

The men nodded hesitantly.

“It is.” Another practiced pause. “No parent should have to bury their children.”

He let that thought linger in the air then turned his attention to the man to his left.

“John, you know exactly how I feel right now. Didn’t you lose a child less than a year ago?”

“Yes,” John answered. “Anna, she died of leukemia.”

“She was only seven years old wasn’t she?” Heslin softly asked with sympathetic eyes. It was a redundant question, Heslin had done his homework. Not only did he already know the answer, he had picked each of these dozen men for a specific reason, a reason other than their check books.

John nodded a yes and Heslin continued. “Imagine, if you will, that somebody could have waved a magical wand and given you your Anna back. What would you have given to be able to hold her again?”

John didn’t have to think what he would give, his answer came immediately: “Anything. Everything.”

“Anything and everything,” Heslin repeated it slowly. “In fact, I believe every man in this room has a child. Imagine for a moment if your child was snatched from your life like Robin was snatched from mine or Anna from John’s. What would you give to have your child back? To have the power to be able to hold your precious, sweet and innocent child in your arms once again?”

All eyes focused on Heslin, hanging intently on his every word.

“Gentlemen, I do not have a magic wand,” he slammed the written proposal on the desk, startling the twelve men. “And I don’t deal in science fiction! When I succeed,” he deepened his voice emphasizing his words, “and I will succeed, each and every one of you will have that power.”

Heslin could see he had their interest, so he turned their attention to the more practical applications of his proposal. He understood these men well enough to know that “practical application” to them meant making money.

“While every medical center struggles to meet rising organ demands, we will have the power to all but eliminate the need for donors. We will have the power to repair and revive the patients’ own organs.”

Heslin sat back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “My colleagues think I am a madman.”

He smiled. The men smiled with him.

“Oh yes, they think I have completely lost my mind.” he paused with a devilish smile. “Of course, they said the exact same thing right before I won the Nobel Prize. People live, people die, accidents happen and diseases kill. Such is life.”

Heslin leaned forward. “There is no reason for a lot of things in this world, but yet these tragedies continue to happen. It does not have to be that way! We could have the power to change that! We will have the power to add years to someone's life, or even bring back a loved one from an untimely death. And…”

Heslin ended his performance with one final pause, then added, “With this power we will be able to charge whatever the market will bear.”

He let his last sentence hang in the air. Life was a beautiful commodity to sell and, with hundreds of thousands of people not quite ready for death, the market would bear a lot. As the men talked amongst themselves in hushed whispers, Heslin swore he could see dollar signs in their eyes. It was only a few minutes before the men unanimously decided to invest in his unique and rather bizarre proposal. It was a gamble to say the least, but if anyone could pull it off, they knew Heslin had the drive and expertise to do exactly that. And, if he did succeed, they would be far beyond the mere cutting edge of science. They would be reinventing it and making more money than they could ever imagine. They agreed to fund his research for the next three years.

When the last of the men left the room, Heslin pulled the tiny locket from his vest pocket once again and lovingly stroked the picture.

“Soon,” he whispered to the picture. “Soon.”

The clouds that cluttered Heslin’s mind dissolved and a new spirit took hold. He remembered the mess he’d made in the lab, so he promptly returned his father’s old fiddle to its case, grabbed his scotch and headed back to the lab. He stopped at the microscope to dispose of the ruined culture dish when, like a young boy who finds his father’s Playboy Magazine, he just had to look. He leaned over the eyepiece and instantly bolted up straight, dropping his glass of scotch. It bounced on the floor, throwing the scotch at Heslin’s feet, but the heavy glass did not break.

It rolled to a stop as Heslin, wide eyed, fumbled with the sleeve of his lab coat and stared at his watch. 6:49 A.M…

The corners of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile.

Heslin dared another look. This time he stared more intently into the eyepiece. Again he stood up straight. His tiny smile now replaced with a wide, foolish-looking grin.

“We did it, Robin!” he announced proudly. “We did it! The formula works!”

Heslin danced around his lab in joyful hysteria, completely oblivious of the translucent, green liquid oozing out the open window. Tracks of green ran down the outside of the lodge, pooling into a little, green puddle. But gravity wasn’t quite finished with Heslin’s green liquid. Not yet.

It pulled the liquid out of the little pool and down the sloped landscape, swerving around tiny rocks, following the path of least resistance. At the head of the green trail, a tiny drop of Heslin’s creation was poised over the edge of the small creek, threatening to jump. It just sat there, like a nervous diver too scared to take the final plunge. Another bubble of green raced down the last incline and slammed into the timid diver, pushing it over the edge. It hit the creek with the tiniest of splashes, barely creating a ripple, and began its long journey to the valley below.

Heslin danced around his lab in triumphant victory, but his dance was cut short by a sharp pain in his stomach that doubled him over. A few seconds later, the pain subsided. As he stood up he finally noticed the open window and the green stain above it.

Heslin raced to the window. He looked out at the little, green trail leading towards the creek.

“Robin, run an analysis on formula 25-41 and it’s interaction with water.”

Robin did not respond.

“Robin,” he said again. “I need you to run an analysis on…”

Heslin scratched at his bandaged hand, remembering that he had shut Robin down. He banged frantically at the keyboard but the system did not respond.

“I need to reboot the system. I need Robin to…”

Another crippling pain dropped him to his knees. He screamed in agony as the pain came in waves. When it ceased, he pulled himself back to his feet.

“I have to reboot the system,” he said to no one as he started to unwrap the gauze, his hand burned with a powerful itch.

Another intense pain struck him down. When that wave of pain subsided, Heslin crawled towards the back door, a trail of gauze following him.

“I need some air,” he panted as he staggered outside, deeply inhaling the fresh air.

Heslin gritted his teeth as he finished unwrapping his hand. His entire hand was a gray and purple color, and it smelled of sour cheese and baby vomit. The finger he had cut was blackened as if some type of advanced gangrene had set in. He tried to wiggle his fingers but they did not move. He thought about the tracks of the formula leading to the creek.

“My God, what have I done?”