The holovids called me the Bugman. Although the name galled me, it was catchy and aptly described my profession in terms that the masses could at least vaguely comprehend. My real name had been Gaitan LaFolette, before this nightmare had begun. In that dream-time, I had been head of the research branch of BioFarm LTD, a major pharmaceutical provider for the Terran-controlled galaxy’s – better known as the Triquad: the Triple Quadrants – burgeoning health care industry.
My specialty had been germ warfare. I didn’t create killer viruses, but I did break down and recombine their molecular structures in the attempt to find cures for their variegated effects.
I have to admit that I loved my job with a passion that defied understanding. The viruses were beautiful to me and their gyrating, perfect forms were stored safely in the sterile confines of my sky-born laboratories. My work was vital to the health and welfare of the human population of the Triquad, for there was no other whose skill even faintly approached my own.
In acknowledgment, I was given the utmost leeway. My enemies were legion, my vindictiveness legendary. It was said – in muted and fearful whispers – that only Heaven could help those who incurred my wrath.
In other words, human lives, upon which I plied my vital queries, were sacrificed unto me; their DNA utterly subjected to my will.
Some were volunteers, others my enemies, but many more were culled from the ranks of the imprisoned and the hopelessly insane. There were those who were beholden to me for their unwilling genetic recombination, brought about by their stated disbelief in, or outright denial of, my sublime Godhood. Life and death meant nothing to me. I held absolute power over both in the Temple of my Destruction.
Technicians were assigned to my crystal towers research facilities, drawn by the lure of absolute power. I adorned them in blue, mirroring the azure sky surrounding us, a reflection of the frozen heights of my hubris. We were a coven of demigods, ensconced within the clouds, shining with brilliant arrogance.
They looked upon me, their Paramount Chieftain, as a modern-day Imhotep, serving my every whim and obeying my will unquestioningly. My god-complex was infinite and my power over life and death absolute.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, forever, Amen-Ra.
I was an accident waiting to happen.
BB Series Interludes