I am Daisy Palmer
His suit, of what I can see laying beneath his crisp and white lab coat is a brilliant royal blue. It has mustard yellow and tweed accents with rich fabric. Fashion choices speaking to "old money" someone born with taste, no need to flaunt labels or vast displays of wealth. No, this suit is expensive alright, in the quality and dye, but he had no need to expound on his fortune with over adornment.
His eyes hid in the frames of his glasses, dark and with mild interest in me. I feel a bit like a specimen under his scope. He was scrutinizing me but not the way one looks at a potential friend, or even a slide of blood, no his gaze was cold. Those hands still neatly folded and his breathing even, he leans a bit but makes no move to begin the conversation. I fear what is lurking in the hidden corners of his mind, that steady gaze. I'm being examined causally. Enough to make me unnerved but his expression says "unimpressed." Why do his eyes seem to follow me yet look so dispassionate? His intimidation tactic working too well for my comfort. I am used to powerful men. They generally seek to impress me with their bravado, he doesn't care to show off his masculinity with preening. He doesn't seem to care if I find him attractive or masculine. He does seem to want me ill at ease though. Is this his normal demeanor?
Uncomfortable, I begin: "Thank you for your invitation. Your work is fascinating. I look forward to hearing more about it."
His eyes flick to mine with such speed my breath catches in my chest and I feel frozen. It is an aggressive look without warrant. A cat's flick of the tail, his instant contact so direct after refusing eye contact
"I am delighted to oblige." He says with measure, his tone doesn't match his eyes at all. This is a chess game but I don't know all the rules.
"I would very much love to be part of the company here. I have various skills in typing and dictation-"
"Have you read Laughlin?" He cuts me off, with finality.
"I... I have heard of Harry Laughlin, I believe. Though I am not familiar with his work?" I am unsteady. You shouldn't show weakness in front of predators and I'm failing miserably. I am not the Apex in the room. He smiles and leans back, more at ease in view of my discomfort.
"I would like you to start by reading his work: 'Eugenical Sterilization in the United States'. You may begin with that and I would like an oral report of your summation and opinion of his work by Friday."
"Of course Sir." I managed to speak out the words without trembling. This couldn't be all of the interview? An assignment? Do I have the job? It was less the content of our discussion, it was his interruption and body language. Feeding the idea that a simple reply could be incorrect and embarrassing in it's failure. Without further questioning or discussion he flatly says "Dismissed."
I walk out feeling like I'm being watched. That the jump scare is nearly about to happen and I'm on the edge of startle. That feeling that the ghost is behind you the entire time and the back of my head feels so vulnerable. I want to cower and hide and tuck in a blanket where there are no dark hallways and no places of fear. The sterile clean hallway has no dark corners but I feel the violins screeching behind me and I want to run. My flight instincts have made my heart pound but the setting couldn't be more mundane. I walk through the halls and breath as slowly as I can manage. The white and green in the floor and the florescent lights. I wish I could shake my shoulders and face the tension I feel building behind me but I'm so afraid yet of what's there that I can't bring myself to look back. As though he'll be standing in his doorway with a grin like a taunting clown.
As my breathing evens and I walk through the halls I calm down. I see that no immanent threat is present, there is not a surprise attack. I see how irrational I've become. One abrupt conversation and I'm a delicate flower? "Poor little Daisy?" No. That won't do. I'm not entirely sure I should take this job but the money would be fantastic. Sure, he unnerves me a little but he's an eccentric scientist. I'm just being too sensitive about this, too womanly, he's harmless. I sigh, trying to ease this tension I've brought on. That fury of anxiety and laugh it away as silliness. That's exactly it, he was a handsome and wealthy doctor and scientist. His intellect unnerved me and his social skills are a bit lacking. He's a brilliant mind. I'm a fool if I don't take this job. I best go the library and find that Eugenical thing. Goodness how can that be relevant?
Return of Victor
Degenerates. All of them. Poor and squalling masses, millions of hungry mouths, like a cancer sucking up precious resources. You can not beat them with sterilization or eugenics. A few great men tried and were left scorned by a public that refuses to see reason. The masses will never accept it or follow through to implement it. Mengele got close yet ended in ruin. No, the problem must be attacked by another method entirely. Pitiful, so called, "intellectuals" will wail and weep against the wisdom of euthanasia. Their problem is their pitiful morality, defining human life when it should be eradicated. The strain is the only way. Targeted strains will transform the masses and we can leave the best and selected to rise above.
I see now that my plans have been right all along and following the advice of others results in irreparable nonsense. Mengele believed that unless we adopted the breeding programs that 'mankind is doomed, even without war." So far ahead of his time he could not be more correct. He wrote "Everything will end in catastrophe if natural selection is altered to the point that gifted people are overwhelmed by billions of morons. 90 percent of humans will starve due to stupidity and the remaining 10 percent will survive like reptiles survived. The rest will die, just like the dinosaurs did ... we have to prevent the rise of the idiot masses."
Oh Great Father, they see not the error in abandoning your brilliant work but I will complete it in a way you never thought possible. Once we eliminate the seething proletariat we can selectively breed the premier who are fit to remain. Is not Nature already the great selector? Has God not already modeled that this is the way of man? We are completing and expounding upon his work; are we not? The strongest should survive.
We have far too long enabled the dependents to suck the teet of easy living, failing carcasses that fill graves and do little to improve the planet. We will be their cure. We will extinguish the filth from the word and bring forth a renew. Like the burning of the prairie we will heal the land. As I think of these worthless eaters I become nearly sick myself. The time must come in to cleanse the world of those who are the optimum.
We are having a mostly successful trial with the strain. Infected inmates are already changing and our control group remains untouched. Most curious is that out of 348B a leader seems to be forming. An apparent female. She is excreting power over her group, despite the evidence of hive mind. Alex has been jokingly referring to them as the "Bees" we are thinking of naming her the Queen. Seems apt, doesn't it?
Our attempts at a various spreads of the strain are giving clear results. When the strain interacts with the targeted genetics it reacts most violently and with speed. It is a lytic virus. The DNA transcribes itself into messenger RNA (mRNA) molecules that are then used to direct the cell's ribosomes. One of the first polypeptides to be translated destroys the host's DNA. Once the viral DNA has taken control it induces the host cell's machinery to synthesize viral DNA, protein and starts multiplying. The miracle we have done is creating our strain to understand it's host cell's DNA. We have given it the ability to target the spefific DNA we wish to eradicate. So, in the various steps of cell multiplication, when the DNA of the virus is transcribed, if the host cell DNA is not in the target group, the host DNA is not destroyed and the multiplication of cells does not take place. Thereby keeping that host safe from symptoms even if they are exposed.
We have now enough test subjects under the strain to create a separate test group. 348C. Alex is calling them "The Childs". The Childs appear to be affected by the Hive mentality differently than the first group. Where 348B can seem to work with one mind collectively, 348C is subjugated and appears to take commands. As we study the body language, we are seeing that nods and clicks are given by the "Queen" and then response is show in the Childs. Yet others in 348B do not seem to give these commands.
They all remain submissive to our will and stimuli exercises. Despite having varying degrees of control among themselves, they are responding with the desired passivity. We are bringing in a Primatologist. Hoping the study of those primitive creatures will helps us gain insight on training and behavior study in our test groups. It was Alex's suggestion. I suppose it will be helpful. Though I have my doubts on the value of the exercise. Issac was thrilled with the idea. I suppose it's good to see him getting on about anything. As of late he has been obsessively focused on the leader of 348B. He is spending an inordinate amount of time working with her souly. I fear our other work may suffer if he continues this favoritism. While I have a distaste for sharing space or credit, we truly need the three of us working evenly in order to complete within the Generals' given timeline. I believe Alex and I will have a word with him later in the week. Personal studies must take a back seat to the main work. It is crucial. Surely, he'll come to sense.
I feel it's important to note that none of the views of the characters reflect my personal opinion.