There’s an old Earth myth, from the pre-space days, back before the colonies and galactic expansion, back from when humanity was young and ignorant of the universe. A story about a man who believed that death could be reversed, that the secret of life was just a matter of the right science. But what he brought to life was a monster. It’s a cautionary tale warning of the dangers found in arrogance—that the monster was as much Frankenstein himself, as the body that rose off his operating tale.
Some days I wonder if I’m not that monster.