Recipe For God I

"Finally after the long unsettled disputes between Science and Religion man has found a way to unite the two. Naveal Laboratories came up with the slogan 'One God, One Nation', a project involving the creation of the Messiah, a feat never before undertaken by other biotechnology labs. With the completion of the project, Naveal Laboratories may just pave the way to world unity and the salvation of mankind..." A raven-haired teenager   abruptly clicked the TV off, head reeling at the weight of such news.

Father, its all over the TV... Have you all gone crazy?

Misha, the youngest among the seven children of Dr. Eldon Naveal, already knew about his father's plans a year before it was released to the press but until now his young adolescent mind was still skeptical over his father's work. Who wouldn't be? He had been used to the clones of his family members and the like. Dr. Naveal had once persuaded him to have a clone too but the thought of looking at an image of himself without a mirror freaked him out. But creating God? It was totally absurd and downright impossible.

A cold chilling wind blew from the open window across Misha. He immediately got up from the comfort of his couch to close his windows and keep the snow from entering his cozy room. He took a glance at the snow-laden streets below him.

Winter is already here; the Siberian winds are colder than usual.

His blue eyes searched the faces of a bunch of peasants hooded over a flaming barrel, their breaths forming wisps of white smoke, hands rubbing together for added warmth. Nothing has changed. It had been the same scene ten years ago or even the decades before. It was the same barrel of flame, the same rubbing of hands, the same wisps of white smoke clouding over pale faces that were still peasants'. These were the people of Russia, the poor, ordinary people in Russia. The black-haired youth never left his spot by the window, silently observing the sight unfold below him until one particular peasant looked up on his floor and made eye contact.

Those eyes... They are the eyes of a human who has endured so much in this world. If God truly exists, why do people like him still walk the Earth? Has God merely abandoned them, these people who really needed him?

Misha quickly broke the connection when he heard the voice of his father calling him. He just shrugged off his earlier thoughts and resumed worrying about things that boys usually worry about: girls, sports, clothes and school. He went to the door and swung it open, revealing a rather ruffled-looking man in his mid-fifties, hair graying at the sides of his head, wearing a long, loose-fitting laboratory gown. His left hand held a lengthy cane made up of aged, rich wood. In his nose rested a pair of thick eyeglasses, hiding the expression of his wrinkled eyes.

"Your brothers and sisters are waiting for you upstairs. We are about to start, let's go." Dr. Naveal said after a few moments of silence that had settled between them. His voice was cold and emotionless but Misha was already used to this. The boy simply nodded in response.

So father has started on the project. I wonder if he is going to be successful.

The blue-eyed boy followed his father mutely as the scientist led him into the familiar passages of their large home. The older Naveal's boots clanked heavily on the floor, a trait acquired following the death of his wife, Anastasia. After a bit of walking the two stopped before an elevator leading to the laboratories. Eldon punched in the right commands and went straight in, Misha following suit.

Inside the elevator the young Naveal only stared at the thick metal doors as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. A soft tapping of heels reverberated through the cramped space, following the tempo of Misha's lazy hum. He knew some things never change. Although he had trained himself to bear his father's indifference towards his existence he still hated being trapped in such strained moments. And since his mother's death he had stopped hoping that matters between him and his father would turn out for the better.

But today he is different. He even visited me in my room. This must be an important occasion for him.

"Misha", the scientist started that ended the boy's glaring contest with the metal doors and halted his humming concerto.

"You have grown into a fine man. Day by day your becoming more like the male version of your mother." Blue orbs widened in surprise then narrowed questioningly, turning sharply to take a look at Dr. Naveal's aged face.

Did he just talk to me? Why is father telling me this? Very strange, he had not mentioned mother for years now.

However Eldon's face remained frozen, his eyeglasses shielded the boy's probing eyes from reading any emotion in his gray ones. Sighing, Misha gave up. It would take a miracle for him to decipher his father's feelings. So with nothing to do the apprehensive lad once again returned to his previous occupation, staring at the cold steel doors until it began sliding open to their desired destination.

What the...?

A busy sight of his father's vast working place met Misha's eyes. He had been there before when he was younger but it had not been as grand as it was now. There were packs of scientist huddled together over different massive machinery, each preoccupied with their assigned tasks. Large clear glass hoses hung on the lab's steel walls, filled with gallons of an unknown blue green liquid, weaving in and out of each other, all ending up on a colossal cylindrical chamber at the heart of the room. Huge white linen hung over the said apparatus, concealing everything that it suspiciously contained. Misha's feet stood rooted to the ground while his eyes flickered with amazement and curiosity.

Wow! So father has transformed his boring laboratory into something cool! I have never seen so many brilliant minds work over a single project.

The voice of Misha's older brother, Alek, suddenly broke the blue-eyed lad's trance-like state as he strolled over to greet him.

"Hey Misha, like what you see so far?" Rang Alek's cheerful tone, easing a bit of the raven-haired's shock. He was wearing the same type of clothes his father wore and inherited the grayness of the old man's eyes. But his personality counterbalanced Eldon Naveal's lethargic aura.

"Yeah, it's amazing how technology can change things."

Alek Naveal then turned to pay his respects to his father who was still standing beside Misha, running bony fingers through his fine crop of midnight black hair as he did so.

"What's the current status of the subject?" Alek promptly replied to his father's inquiry.

"Pulse is strong and healthy. Brain waves are consistent and the rate of cell multiplication is within acceptable parameters. Everything is as it should be."

"Good. I'll check on the media and the other specialists. Get ready, we are about to start." Eldon walked off in the direction of the laboratory's visitors, quickly engaging himself in a conversation informing them more about the project's development. Alek's strong hand propelled the youngster's back, leading him into the circle of their family members.

"Stay here and prepare for what you are about to see. I can confidently say that the project is a success." His fellow brothers and sisters warmly greeted Misha; their facial features registered both excitement and anxiety over the unveiling of Dr. Naveal's greatest work.

Can it be possible that God can be recreated through the use of technology? What is he going to look like?

There was a great hushing of the crowd as the ingenious scientist himself stepped out front and made an act of clearing his throat to get the crowd's attention.

"Ladies and gentleman, we are all gathered here to witness the birth of our savior, of our true visible God. I know this experiment may sound ambiguous to you but we at Naveal Laboratories have finally done it. We have achieved the impossible. Now we proudly present to you..." Dr. Naveal motioned for Alek to pull the linen off.

"...the Messiah, the being that will lead to man's salvation and eternal happiness, Imogene."

The immaculate white cloth dropped on the floor, earning the oohhs and aahhs of the spectators over the content of the cylindrical chamber that revealed itself to them. Floating in the core of the glass chamber was an innocent form of a baby, curled up in a fetal position, and submerged in the sea of the unknown blue green solution. Everyone was awed at the image of a faint light slowly pulsing within the infant's chests, illuminating the dim insides of the apparatus.

Is this God? the God that will help the peasants out of the dirty streets?

 

People who have Naveal blood in them are the only ones lucky enough to get a closer look at the holy child. Misha was able to stand in front of the baby, hesitant at first but gradually loosened up as the Messiah's warm glow engulfed his senses. His brother Alek was out front, smiling earnestly as the media showered him with attention. Misha's father got stuck with answering the more mundane questions. Nevertheless his features are less serious now, basking in the glory of his achievement. He answered them as truthfully as he could.

            "Why call the savior Imogene?"

            "The God's origin is uncertain so we named him/her Imogene."

"Dr. Naveal, the public is curious about the gender of God. What is Imogene's sex?"

"We cannot tell the Messiah's gender. Imogene is an androgynous god."

"Why is Imogene still in infant form? Do you have plans of letting him/her out of the chamber?"

"For now Imogene will stay in baby form but he/she will eventually develop as the week progresses. We expect that by Sunday next week he/she would have grown into adulthood and would finally be released from his/her chamber."

I feel calm when I come closer. Maybe this baby is really God.

Misha suddenly felt a slight nudge on his arm.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you, Misha. I guess I'm being clumsy again." Dr. Naveal's sixth child showed an apologetic shy smile towards her younger sibling. Sapphira was three years senior of the young lad, a sickly girl at the ripe age of eighteen. Other than Misha Sapphira accurately resembled the image of their mother, Anastasia. With her long dark tresses reaching down to her hips, her pale skin, her red ample lips and as her name suggests sapphire-hued eyes, she was a haunting replica of Eldon's late wife.

"No sweat. I'm glad that you could make it here." Among all of his six siblings Sapphira was the one he was extremely close with. Having shared the same cruel fate of being ignored by their father they instantly bonded with one another.

But something's wrong with her. I could sense that somehow the air about her had altered.

"Sapphira, is there something wrong?" The girl just shook her head.

"Don't try hiding it from me. What is wrong?" Sapphire-colored eyes tinged with something akin to sadness and pity were raised to meet his in a fleeting gaze but quickly veered away and settled in the cylindrical device. Misha followed her gaze and found his orbs resting on the serene form of the blessed baby.

"Imogene?" His sister's dark head nodded in confirmation.

"Don't you see it?"

"See what Sapphira?"

"Something in his eyes." The black-haired boy located Imogene's closed eyelids and placed it under his scrutiny.

"Nothing is wrong with his eyes."

"Never mind." Sapphira sighed utterly disappointed and started walking away.

"Hey, why don't you tell me what you saw?" Her lengthy curls swayed as she looked back on her younger brother.

"He/she is crying."

A/N: Though I wrote the story some of the ideas here & character names were contributed by my best friend, Kristina-chan :) Thnx!