DNA and Me Part 3: Termination

Part 3: Termination

It’s been a year since Gregory and I went public with the company. DNA and Me. (The name was his idea not mine.) We have a hit in our hands. We have had two million people use our service so far and at least three thousand a day. Stock in the company went from pennies a pop to hundreds a hop. Gregory has been on the cover of Forbes, Time, Life, and various other one word magazines. He has become the figurehead of DNA and Me. I of course handle the financial side of things. If Gregory did he would have one hell of a party, but we would be broke. He still throws parties but his taste in parties have changed, they’ve mellowed out. He’s trying very hard to create a good reputation for himself.

However I have noticed Gregory becoming quite erratic in private. Phone calls late at night, pouring over DNA data, and cutting ties with certain individuals. I’ve been meaning to confront him on these matters, however I do not want to upset him. I have several bruises that reassure my reluctancy. Maybe tomorrow I will bite the bullet.

It took alot to wake up this morning. It’s been harder every day. Spending every waking day with Gregory Cheragucci will wear anybody out eventually. His charm becomes uncanny. Like he is putting on an act. Writhing beneath his mask is a beast waiting for the opportunity to slither out.

“Gregory?”

Mr. Cheragucci was sitting in his dark office, chair facing the window which is the the only source of light in the room.

“Yes Steve my boy.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been ah, acting erratic lately.”

“How so?” Mr. Cheragucci still sitting in his chair turned around.

“I don’t know, you’ve been uh…”

“Spit it out boy!”

“You’ve been up on the phone late at night and have been violating user privacy by looking over personal genetic files!”

“Does anybody else know about these discrepancies?” Cheragucci smirked and raised his left eyebrow.

“No but I…”

“YOU WHAT MR. STEFENSON?”

“I uh…”

“EXACTLY! You are nothing. A shrewd little man too afraid to speak up about violations in procedure. And why may I ask. Oh that’s right, because I make you money. You have no convictions, beliefs, or even a life. You only care about amassing wealth. But to what end?

“I..”

“Shut the fuck up! Daddy is talking. I unlike you have a plan. This company isn’t just a little fun game. I didn’t have people send in their DNA so they could know that they’re one fifteenth Cherokee or one third Swedish. I did it to find out who’s weak. Who carries certain traits that are, well lets just say, undesirable.”

“That’s, that’s eu…”

I was frozen through Cheragucci’s speech, but now, now I ran. I guess my body had other plans than to listen to the ramblings of a madman.

“I know what it is. And there’s nothing wrong with it. Just because one asshole used it to kill a few Jews doesn’t mean it itself is evil. Look at nuclear power. You can blow up whole cities, yes. But you can also power them! What if nobody died of cancer, or had diabetes. What if we could make man stronger?”

“No! You are a madman! I never want anything to do with you or your master race!”

Sweat is rushing down my forehead like a dam burst beneath my pores. Slowing flowing down my skin in tiny rivers contained by surface tension. I almost bust my head open as I panically make my way down the now sweat coated rainbow stepped spiral staircase of the Genome Mansion. Memories start to flood back to me, as if the sweat that once emanated my forehead was suddenly sucked back into my pores and directly into my skull forming a whirlpool which drained down my throat and into my stomach, feeding me a sense of dread and anxiety.

“Mr. Stefenson come back, I have a whole world of possibilities to show you!”

“If you aren’t with me you’re against me, and I am a very powerful adversary.”

“We’ve searched the Genome Mansion and found documents confirming your suspicions. I have just one last question.”

Cheragucci ran down the stairs after me. I tried to keep looking in front of me, pretending he wasn’t behind me. I look back for some reason. Some stupid reason. With all his anger and strength I see Cheragucci jump on my back? He pulled me down and we went sliding half way down the stairs. My adrenaline kicks in. I lift Mr. Cheraguccis weight and I fling him off the staircase. In an instant he is dead.

I go to the receptionist desk and call the police. They take me in for questioning. I tell them everything I know.

“So Mr. Stefenson, you’re telling us that you killed America’s beloved Gregory Cheragucci because the was using the private genetic files of your customers to cleanse the gene pool in how he saw fit?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I told you.”

“Yes?”

“That’s fine. We will try to find out who he was corresponding with. However in the meantime we will need to keep you in our custody. For your safety of course.”

“Who was Mr. Cheragucci calling so late in the hours of the night?”

“I… I don’t know.”

I never thought of this before. Gregory must of had some accomplice in his eugenicc escapade. Maybe more than one.

“I understand.”

The officer left the room, left me alone, left me thinking. Who was Gregory calling?