It happened quite by accident. Bob had been heating two complex protein solutions when he tipped them over accidentally. The liquids mixed as they ran down the countertop into an outlet. There was a flash, a cloud of ozone and puddle of life was created.
The first few days were hectic, almost insane. The press, the scientific community and people from Right-to-Life all descended upon him. After a week or two, any scientist who was interested could take home the new issue of Popular Mechanics and try out his or her own life recipe. After a month, Bob was left alone with his famous solution which he had named Fred (though it looked more like a Freida). The results from his other experiments hadn’t proved to be Earth-shattering: the effects of air on gerbils (they can’t live without it) and microwaving uranium in an attempt to start fission (nothing happened on the DEFROST setting). He watched Fred for a long time. An hour passed and his friend Greg came in.
“How’s Fred doing?” he asked, trying to pull Bob out of his recent state of melancholy.
“He’s evolving,” replied Bob, “millions of times faster than we did. I suppose I should be happy about that. He’ll be on sponge level in another month, fish level in thirty years or so. . . ”
Greg swallowed. “When will he be human?”
“About 2500 A.D.” Bob sighed then added cryptically. “It’s written somewhere that the world was created in six days…” Greg paled.
“Bob, don’t start fooling around with something you know nothing about.” Greg cried. Bob continued to watch the green gel as it swam around in the beaker. Greg continued, swinging Bob’s chair around to get his attention.
“It’s also written that people who play God regret the consequences. You were lucky this time, but who knows what you’ll do the next time. We may end up being seconded to Fred, or worse – extinct.” With a dramatic flair, Greg turned and left, leaving Bob alone once more with his creation. The friendly advice was overlooked in the shadow of greater successes. He locked the lab door and rolled up his sleeves. There was much work to be done.
That night. Bob worked on Fred: adding chemicals, subtracting enzymes, performing multitudes of experiments, but Fred never changed (except for being slightly the worse for wear). Conforming to the Creator/Creation link. Bob plopped down on a stool and rubbed his hand through his unruly hair. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto the floor.
Bob cried out in frustration, “It was so easy in the old days! All He had to say was ‘Let There Be Light’ and -” He stopped suddenly with a flash of insight. Radiant energy?
Maybe it was the answer. All he needed was a few million watts…
The explosion shook the house, but it was the phone that woke Greg up. Staggering down the stairs in the darkness, he answered it on the seventh ring.
“Greg? You were right! I shouldn’t have done it! Boy, is Fred big -” Greg muttered an oath under his breath as the phone was disconnected. He returned to his bed and glanced at the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning! Not everyone was a night person like Bob. He’d tell Bob off in the morning.
But for him and the human race, morning would never come.