Copy & Waste
A Short Story
By Stephen O'Neil
Part 3 of 9 - First Page - Previous Page - Next Page
As he watched her, she cocked her head suddenly. He recognised the gesture and waited patiently. After a moment she straightened and looked at him. “You have an incoming call. It’s Arty.”
“Arty? Put him through.”
Grigori was puzzled. He hadn’t heard from his boss for weeks. No-one here had. There were rumours…
“Hallo Greg!” The voice of his friend boomed from the screen in front of him but it took a moment for him to recognise the face. Grigori gasped and leaned forward for a better look. Arthur seemed to enjoy the effect his appearance had on his old friend and laughed out loud. “You seem surprised? Take a good look Greg. We’ve done it!”
“You look… so…”
“Young?”
Grigori nodded, “You look just as you did the day we met.”
“I look even younger than that.”
Grigori shook his head in astonishment, still staring in disbelief. “You actually did it,” he breathed.
“I told you we could, and it was mostly thanks to your work my friend.”
“I didn’t think it was ready.”
“I’m proof that it was.”
“How does it…”
“Greg. I feel great. I’m strong, full of energy. It’s unbelievable. I feel twenty.”
“Who knows of this?”
“Only a few people here at headquarters. We’ll schedule a news conference to announce the success after it’s been tested further.”
“More people?”
“Oh you have no idea how many want to do it. Imagine when everyone knows it’s possible.”
“How many so far?”
“Only me. That’s why I called. Greg. I want you to have the chance. I want you to be next.”
Grigori sat back in his chair, stunned. “Me? But I…”
“Greg, you and I both know you don’t have long. Our best scientists are stumped. This is the answer. It really is.”
“I’ve accepted my condition.”
“Has everyone else? Greg, don’t just think about yourself. I spoke to your daughter recently. She’s scared.”
“You spoke to Elly?”
“She called me. She was worried about you. Wanted to know if there was any progress in finding a cure.”
Yes, Grigori thought, she would worry. Elly was the only child he had with his wife. He and Izabella had both mostly grown up in Australia and remembered only some of their Russian heritage and language. Nevertheless, they had settled on Elizaveta as a name for their daughter and passed on as much of their ancestral culture as they could.
“Greg, it’s not just your daughter either. You’ve given so much to this company, and to the world. Think of what your research has done. Think of the lives you’ve improved, saved even. Look at Vermisa.” Grigori turned, he had forgotten she was there. “Greg, if anyone deserves this it’s you. You’re too valuable for the world to lose.”
Grigori shook his head. “I don’t know.”