06/11/2025 Tissues
“Pass me the tissues. I’m going to need them.”
The view down the microscope was fascinating. The cells had mutated in just the way that he’d predicted. Deep in the nuclei, he could see how the chromosomes had split and reformed, almost as if the entire organism was feeding off the radiation he’d dosed it with.
His assistant passed a box of slides, labelled “tissue with dystronic irradiation 75%”. He didn’t bother to thank them for it. He’d long gone past pleasantries, like remembering assistants’ names. It wasn’t worth it, as he got through them far too quickly. Experimenting on them was far too tempting after all.
“Fascinating! I do believe these have taken on a green hue. I wonder where that colour comes from? It can hardly be chlorophyll…” He chuckled at the thought.
“Well, sir, I assume that the tissue is absorbing the light at one wavelength and emitting it at a slightly different one.”
“No one asked your opinion! Put these through the centrifuge.” He shoved a rack of test tubes at the lab worker. “Quickly! I don’t want to wait for the end of the war, thank you.”
He rubbed his eyes. They were sore. He knew his eyesight was failing. It was a result of much peering down microscopes and working closely with radiation. It couldn’t be helped. If it got much worse, he’d just have to design a superior optical instrument and wire it directly into his brain. Thankfully, much of his work on life support systems would make that job an easy one. He could not afford to let physical frailty affect his work. It was far too important.
He brushed a few wisps of his thinning hair off his face. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his reflection in one of the lab’s viz screens. He was looking old. No matter. Age, frailty or any injury wouldn’t stop him now. He had contingency plans for all of them. Even an assassin’s bullet, should it come to that.
He felt sad at his lost looks, but shook himself out of it. “Face it, Davros,” he said to himself. “This is what you look like now.”