The Reincarnation

Ralph Bishop had never understood his only son. How could it be that the man with the most power in the country, quite possibly – no, undoubtedly – the world, had a cripple for a son? he asked himself as he surveyed the planet from his personal plane.

How does a man with access to every medicine known to mankind not have the power to change faulty genetics? Of course, fifteen years ago was ancient history. Today, his son could have been programmed without any faults at all. If he had been born today, Bishop could have chosen his eye color, hair color, stature – everything. He could have programmed him like a computer. But that did not help the current situation. And what was he sick with this time? His skin was all pasty and white. The predicament of his son had always vexed him.

Now he wanted to go to the Cryonics Lab. Another irrational request from an irascible boy. Bishop complied simply because he wanted to see the new developments at a Lab he had almost given up hope on. It had been decades since anything happened at Cryonics, he thought, decades in which he had almost lost faith in the Lab ever accomplishing anything at all.

His grip tightened on the handle of his briefcase. I hope their accomplishments have gone well, he thought, patting it like a faithful dog. The last thing his organization needed was another Pathology Lab incident. If there was one major mistake the Church had ever made, that had been it. At Pathology, Bishop realized, they had simply gone too far, and gotten sloppy. With all the technology in the world available to them, it had been human error alone that unleashed a pathogen on the world that should have never escaped the Petri dish. One that killed without prejudice.

Thankfully, the media had not been able to pinpoint where it had come from. They had speculated, sure, but a combination of feigned ignorance and media monopoly had absolved the Church, at least in the public eye, from blame.

But those damn Eco-Assassins knew somehow, Bishop thought. They had traced it back to the source and sent him terrible threats. What did they know, anyway? He had a legal obligation to be profitable. They acted like capitalism itself was at fault. Besides, it had all come from exploration – exploration man was destined to carry out. God had ordained it by putting the tools on the planet. If God had wanted man to live in a natural state, like damned chimpanzees, He would have left humanity in the Garden.

He thought about the old Pathology Lab, how he wished the scientists there had kept their composure and exercised the restraint that was expected of them as professionals. He realized, though, that after a certain amount of time, all scientists became a little crazy. Deprived of lifestyles where they could see the larger, overall implications of their work, they became cult-like – started talking in languages that needed to be translated for anyone in the outside world to understand them. So wrapped up in their small slice of the world that they became like loose molecules in an inflammable fluid. Patting his briefcase again, Bishop assured himself that the old Pathology Lab incident would never be repeated. Not ever.

Besides, Bishop hoped, Jack Persey was not like that. He had been obsessed for years, sure, but he appeared rational when they had met. Maybe only the fear controlled him, though. Maybe the fear that the Church would take him out for losing the first one kept him sane for a moment.

And that damned nurse. Bishop had been hoping she would find herself a boyfriend, get married, get pregnant. Then he could have had Jack freeze her and her fetus – finally find out when the soul actually did enter the body. People never seemed to want to cooperate whenever he had big ideas, though. Especially women. They were always asking questions. That was why he made sure they were never hired or promoted to real jobs, at least while he was at the controls.

He consoled himself with the thought that they would find someone else. That was the wonderful thing about the human race. They certainly were not endangered.

As the plane started its descent, Bishop turned his thoughts back to the doctor, and realized he would know the answer to the question of the sanity of Jack Persey soon enough.