Superior

Prologue: A Letter from Radley Farrows

March 17, 1993

To Whom it May Concern,

If you are reading this, it is best of you to assume that I am dead. A recent turn of events forced me to go into hiding, and I thought it wise to write a letter, in case I should be killed. I have been expecting death, you see. It's a wonder that I've survived even for this long, when all my colleagues are dropping like flies. But I've managed to evade them for this long. Maybe—just maybe—I'll live through this.

The chances of that, however, are painfully slim.

I'm sorry; I haven't even introduced myself. As I've never written a letter like this before, you'll have to forgive me. I am Radley Farrows, head scientist of the genetic enhancement branch at the Chatelaine Laboratory.

Or at least, I was.

Chatelaine was a government-funded lab that focused on the study of genomes, particularly those of humans. We were often overlooked, though our studies had great benefits to the country. A little over two years ago, my colleagues and I undertook a new project. For decades, we had dreamed of developing a human who was, in all ways, genetically perfect. When the higher-ups gave us permission to begin work on this task, we were ecstatic.

In the following months, we worked nonstop, experimenting with various compounds in an attempt to create a gene-enhancement serum. Our solution came, finally, with a virus; one that had no harmful effects on its bearer. On the contrary, this virus spread throughout the body's cells, inserting its DNA into them.

Viruses, of course, can potentially alter DNA, and that is precisely what ours did. It contained a specific protein, known as NK5, which repaired mutations, replaced unfavorable genes with first-rate alternates, and increased disease resistance. We called it Virus Supernus, or "superior virus." The result would be a human who was stronger, faster, smarter, and more attractive than ever before. However, the changes would only take effect on a still-developing human body. We determined that fifteen was the likely cut-off age.

The lab provided us with six fetuses to work with, all of them raised in the lab using an artificial womb stimulator, or an AWS. Of course, it would be pointless to wait for the fetuses to mature to adulthood, so we developed another virus. This one sped up development by increasing the rate of cell reproduction. Think of it as a controlled cancer. By doing this, we found that it was possible to accelerate a fetus to the age of twenty-one in a matter of months. Thus, we had all the necessary ingredients to our mixture.

And so, we began.

Because of the delicate size of the fetuses, we injected the virus into the artificial placenta, which was included within the AWS. It spread the virus to the fetuses through their food, making it simpler for everyone.

A total of three fetuses died immediately after the injection of the virus. Two more were lost within the next few hours. We worried that the last one would die as well, but it survived. It was miraculous, and, as the remaining fetus was female, we took to calling her Miracle.

We added the growth-acceleration virus soon after, and watched as the fetus began to grow. All of us were ecstatic when, after the first week, Miracle had matured to the age of one. She stayed within the AWS in a comatose-like state while she continued to grow. By the time she was four, her brain had developed enough for us to begin programming it.

There was a particularly bright scientist in the group, a young man by the name of David Leary. He'd joined the team, which had ten members, just before we'd begun the project. He kept to himself for the most part, speaking up only to ask the occasional questions about laboratory procedure. It was I who approached him with the suggestion that he be the one to input information into Miracle's mind. With his intelligence, I assumed that he'd select a wealth of knowledge.

Oh, how I was wrong.

For the five months it took for Miracle to develop, Leary would fill her with more and more information, much more than a normal human could store. But Miracle was not a normal human. From day one, we could see that she was superior. If her unnatural beauty was not enough, on one occasion, she unconsciously kicked out and cracked the shock-proof glass of the AWS. It's safe to say that we were more than excited to see what she would be like as a full-grown adult.

But when that day came, we were unpleasantly surprised.

At the time, Leary was the only one present in the lab. While the rest of us went home, he had stayed behind to do some "extra research." Just after midnight, he called all of us, excitedly saying that the alarm—which was set to go off when Miracle's brain matured to twenty-one years of age—had gone off, and that she had woken up.

All of us rushed to the lab immediately. I'll be the first to admit, I was rather miffed that I wasn't present during Miracle's awakening. But that didn't keep me from feeling exhilarated anticipation when I arrived. However, waiting in the laboratory, staring at us through his wire-rimmed glasses, was Leary. Beside him stood Miracle, washed, clothed, and very much alive.

In her hands was a gun.

Everything happened very quickly. Without saying a word, Miracle shot down every single one of my colleagues with perfect aim. They were dead before they hit the ground, a bullet in each of their brains. I had the common sense to drop to the ground as soon as I heard the first shot, and lay there, trying to hold my breath. Thankfully, Miracle's eyes had not yet adjusted enough to see the faint rise and fall of my chest. I heard Leary praising her, his voice disgustingly sugary. They left soon after. When I dared to leave, nearly an hour later, I found every single person left in the entire building to be dead.

Confused as to how it had all happened, I searched through Leary's private files, which contained the details of the information he had been uploading into Miracle's brain. In addition to the expected knowledge of Math, Science, and Language, he had additionally included diaries and memoirs from dictators of years past. Ideas of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and Enver Pasha were included, among others.

Basically, Leary turned our Miracle into a living recreation of some of the worst people in history. After learning of this, I was more than simply appalled; I was terrified. I did what any sane person would do in such a situation: I fled.

And I've been running ever since.

Since then, correspondents of mine have informed me of various scientists and political figures being murdered suddenly, all under the public's noses. My wife has been killed, and my son missing. But there isn't time for me to grieve.

It's Miracle and Leary's doing; I'm absolutely certain of it. I don't know what their purpose is. I don't know what they are going to do. All I know is that this project went terribly wrong. People are dying, and life as you know it is going to change, very, very soon. Though I do doubt that I will be alive to see it

If you are reading this, please know that everything in this letter in completely true. This is my attempt at a warning. Miracle is very, very dangerous. She is a perfect human with a murderous intent, and she will kill anyone and everyone who gets in her way.

I am almost certain that I will be next.

Signed,

Dr. Radley Farrows, PhD.