The Reincarnation

Dr. Persey was happy. It was Sunday, and he was doing God’s work. Having made it through the ordeal at Church Headquarters, he was following the orders he had received there. Ralph Bishop wants revivals, he thought to himself, Ralph Bishop will get them.

It was so exciting to get the Lab so full of life. All those years of his footsteps echoing lifelessly back to him in the empty hallways – the utter barrenness of the place – were now reversing with each miracle he performed. And each one was a miracle, each one death to life, each one like a birth; together, he convinced himself, making up for the first one that got away. He began to see the Lab as his now, filling up with his children. And he was proving himself quite virile. He was up to seventy-two now. Saint Luke had nothing on him.

Like a virgin on his wedding night, Dr. Persey had been reviving patients all day Friday and Saturday, and all Sunday morning. He had waited decades for the act of thawing his patients, and once he started doing it, he could do little else, despite how tired he got.

Patty’s working out well, he thought when he heard her buzzing him. A lot better than Laura had. The traitor. He hoped Grey didn’t kill her, and he got to deal with her himself.

“The security people are here, Dr. Persey.” Patty’s voice sounded tinny through the intercom.

“Have them get right to work. No escapees this time, right Patty?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dr. Persey resumed his work. He had, of course, started with those patients who had no immediate families. This was in keeping with Bishop’s orders. He set these patients aside for later experiments. But instead of stopping with them, he had let the media whore in him come out and play.

Dr. Persey had been a devoted employee of the Church for over thirty years, carefully and meticulously doing his job. Yet despite all of his selfless commitment, Ralph Bishop’s faint praise in the conference room was the first word of thanks he had received for all that he had accomplished; granted, it had come from the top. A bit drunk on that first sip of applause, he decided he liked it, and wanted more. After all, he was literally raising the dead. Such a miracle shouldn’t – couldn’t – go unnoticed.

Dr. Persey thought about the Golden Child’s press conference. The Church’s media machine hadn’t even showed the doctor’s picture, let alone interviewed him. Surely the good doctor performing this magic should be recognized. Dr. Persey wanted more than the bland propaganda the Church’s media spit out. But how could he get the independent media to praise him?

Quickly, the answer came. Those damned independents were always blathering about the environment, about animals, about extinction. What if he resurrected an animal? One the world hadn’t seen for two decades? That would get him on the front page; the man who brought the extinct back to life. Now, he only had to figure out which of his menagerie were truly extinct.

There’s a magazine that lists them, he thought, now where did I put it?