The Genetic Madman

[Tomtomrawr]

798 A.S. - September

'See you tomorrow Jerry.'

'Yeah, see ya.' The door slammed behind Fischer's assistant, and now he could continue his real work. A major setback for Fischer was that the commitee had given him the assistant as a part of the funding. He couldn't refuse what they thought would be a gift, so he accepted.

In the day he and Jerry worked on the LGPS. That's what they were calling them. LGPS stood for Lethal Gas Prevention Screen. Fischer worked at one tenth of the pace he could work at, but his "assistant" still struggled to keep it. Most of the day Fischer actually slept, because he always told Jerry he was working on it in the night.

And he did. He used one hour of his time to do the work he would have done in ten hours infront of his "assistant". And then he spent the other nine hours continuing his real research into the MIC gas.

He hadn't wanted the research funds for the money, although it had helped. No, the Rheinland Institute of Science gave him unlimited supplies of MIC gas. And animals to test it on.

His idea was to increase the gases effectiveness as a weapon. He wanted a weapon of mass destruction. That nobody could stop. Of course, the LGPS's would be able to stop it. And normal gas masks. But how many average people carried gas masks around with them everywhere?

So now, he sat alone in his lab, which was where the funding had come into use, constructing his weapon. His body was in the lab, but his mind was picturing the chaos. Picturing the death. Picturing his rampage of terror.