"Today is March third, twenty-four-thirty-two. My name is Joseph Huntley. As you may know, I am head of Abin Industries' genetics research branch, as well as the founder of the Animal Genetics Research Facility." The man paused in his impromptu speech to no one. He stopped the recording on the holo-screen. This was pointless; there was nothing to say that his researchers didn't already know. Nothing that mattered, anyway. Work on the project would be completed no matter what. He was more certain of that than anything else.
He ran his fingers through his dark, gray-streaked hair and surveyed his office. Papers spilled out of drawers and shelves. A line of empty coffee mugs stood at attention on the desk. A light flickered overhead, begging to be replaced.
His time was running out. They would be here soon.
He collapsed into the swivel chair with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "What was I thinking?" He moaned to himself. "Sure, Joseph, let's just start your own secret project. Let's just save the world. It will be so easy."
He pulled a wrinkled photograph out of his pants pocket. Seven people were crammed onto an overstuffed yellow couch, smiling and laughing at everything but the camera. Five boys, a woman, and a girl with corkscrew auburn curls. "Did I do the right thing?" He asked the picture. "Is it even going to make a difference?"
Footsteps thundered down the hallway. Someone pounded against the metal office door. "Open up, by order of the Court!" a voice bellowed from the other side. Joseph made no move to obey.
"Open this door or I'll blast it in!"
"Go ahead," Joseph muttered to himself. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You have three seconds! Three!"
Joseph tucked the photo back in his pocket.
"Two!"
He stood and walked around to the front of the desk, facing the door.
"One!"
A deafening blast threw the door forward. Bits of red-hot embers pricked Joseph's skin like needles. The scattered papers flew up, some catching fire and slowly burning to ash. Smoke poured from the space the door once was. Armed soldiers raced into the room, blasters aimed point-blank at his chest. Joseph raised his arms above his head in surrender.
Then out of the ruins stepped a tall, dark-haired man dressed in a clean-pressed black suit. He made his way toward Joseph, never once breaking eye contact.
"Put you hands down, Huntley," the man said calmly.
Joseph did.
The man assessed the damage done to the room as he said, "You know, it didn't have to be like this. I wanted you to share in my glory."
Joseph spat, "Is that what you're calling it?"
"That's what it is."
"It's an experiment gone wrong."
"No, it's a mistake gone right." The man slammed his fist against the desk. "I can bring peace to this world! I can make it better!"
Joseph's face burned with anger. "Better for who? No one will be left."
The man's fury seemed to subside at this remark. "You and I both know that that is far from true. I have plans, big plans, and you wouldn't be here, about to be shipped off to Court, if you didn't have plans of your own. You thought to stop progress with your pitiful excuse of a research lab, but you failed. Now all you can do is sit back and watch as the final reformation begins--and ends." The man motioned for the soldiers to take the prisoner away. Two of them grabbed Joseph roughly by the arms and led him out of the office.
The man leaned on his hands against the desk as he stared out the enormous picture window. "The city at night is quite stunning, wouldn't you say, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir, it is," the soldier answered briskly.
The man flipped through a stack of papers on the desk. "Did you know that all of Huntley's plans for genetic combination failed? Not a single successful trial in thirteen years. Called it Project Amalgam." He straightened his back and threw the papers across the ruined office. "It was doomed to fail."
