The Curiosity by Stephen Kiernan

rises and falls as before. But the beeps do not restart.
    â€œGive me more magnetics,” Carthage orders.
    â€œRight away,” a technician replies. He spins the dial on his desk all the way to the right. “That’s everything we have, sir.”
    Still no beeps. “We’re in trouble,” Dr. Kate says.
    I’m scanning the room, ready to scribble whatever happens next, but there’s no action, no words. That little freeze goes on a long time. I cannot believe my story is going to be about how Carthage’s arrogance brought the whole thing down.
    Finally he takes a deep breath. “Dr. Borden? More charge, please.”
    â€œSeriously?”
    Carthage does not answer. Borden considers his row of switches. “Erastus, each of these circuits carries ten times the power of the one before. If Subject One were alive, the present amperage would kill him. If we increase, there’s just no telling.”
    â€œExcuse me, gents,” Billings says, waving one gloved hand. “Permission to leave the chamber, Dr. Carthage?”
    â€œErastus,” Borden says. “He may explode.”
    â€œUnseal the chamber, please,” Billings says. “Right now.”
    Carthage claps his hands once. “Senior team, quickly, I want your opinions.”
    Thomas lowers his clipboard. “You do?”
    â€œDr. Philo, do we risk explosion or cease our experiment?”
    She looks him in the face. “We say we are seeking answers. Nature is giving us one, unequivocally clear and direct. People are not krill. Let him go.”
    Carthage barely blinks. “Dr. Gerber?”
    He runs fingertips over his keyboard. “We’re boiling him like a lobster. Stop it.”
    â€œDr. Billings?”
    â€œYou would risk my life for the chance to restore his? End the reanimation.”
    â€œDr. Borden?”
    The little doc ponders. “I told you before that the heart wants to beat. Maybe this one has been stopped too long. Or maybe we should have kept him frozen till we’d tried more species between shrimp and something this huge. But today we cannot change what we do not know.” He stares at his switches. “Shut it down.”
    â€œThat leaves you, Thomas.”
    â€œOh, sir.” Thomas turns to Carthage. “What do you want me to say?”
    â€œHa.” Carthage claps a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “You should be a diplomat.”
    Thomas blushes, of all things. Now I’m dying to know the backstory. Did the guy grow up fatherless or something? Definitely investigate later.
    Meanwhile Carthage pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer. He squirts a blob into one palm, then puts the bottle away. Casually, without hurry, he wipes his hands one on the other, between the fingers, wringing the thumbs. You’d never guess what we’re in the middle of. At last he faces us.
    â€œWe are to stop, then? It is unanimous? Subject One cannot be reanimated? Let us be cold for a moment, and calculate. What would be harmed if we try and fail?”
    â€œOur consciences,” Dr. Kate says instantly. “Our decency.”
    Carthage sniffs in her direction. “Dr. Philo, always in earnest. And never shy about questioning the ethics of her boss. I remind you that Subject One is as full of potential as a fetus, if he receives our successful intervention. If we fail, the worst that can come of our efforts is that he will remain as the rest of the world sees him: dead. Meanwhile we have the slim but scientifically sound possibility that we might be right about cells’ latent life force. And that our being right could save humanity from untold future suffering. Perhaps your mighty ethics could soften somewhat, given that opportunity?”
    â€œWell . . .” Gerber leans back. “There is such a thing as desecration of the dead.”
    â€œWe’re guilty of that already,” adds Dr. Kate.
    Carthage waves them aside.