This story is a lab report on creating Frankenstein in a modern day but with a post modern lens and buried within a framing device.
These ceremonies usually go the same, they give me an award, they ask about my inspiration and then questions about my childhood about why I am deformed. They ask why a great researcher in the field of biology can solve the problem of cancer but can’t find the key to fixing his own deformities. This was the worst part of being a scientist, because all I want to do is better humanity and make it the most superior race, but the drama that takes place after the matter is just ridiculous and takes the pleasure out of biology.
Today I was receiving another award for discovering a cure for prostate cancer which was very similar to the other forms of cancer except for the fact that the organ is different and the regular treatment just requires a slight modification so that it eliminates the cancer cells without destroying the prostate. A simple process for any idiot with the research I have already collected but clearly no one has the skills to unlock the secret of curing cancer.
These politicians only care about getting their name in the paper and being with people who make great discoveries. In a perfect world the scientists would be able to do their research with no interference with these rancid politicians and ceremonies. They are extremely inconvenient and tedious.
After the ceremony I returned to the lab and found my senior supervisor in the lab doing tests on breast cancer.She did not attend the ceremony for the same reasons that I despise them. The supervisor took me aside and told me that breast cancer had taken her and that it was fatal. She only had one day to live and that when he passed I would take her place. I took him to the hospital and got him in a bed, and stayed with him all night. The doctor said she had only hours left so she gave me her personal journal that has all of her projects and life's work inside. She told me that the answer to my deformities lie within the book. I was then taken out of the room and that night I sifted through the journal. I came across many discoveries that she had made and that those before her made. There were pages upon pages of research and a map with labs on it. I continued flipping through the book examining each page until I got to the last page of the journal and saw and old ancient artifact. It was titled Manufactured existence. I opened it up and it wasn’t a lab report or award it was a journal written in old english. I decided to read it and wondered if this is what my supervisor was talking about.