To Speak of Galic's Grace: Part 1: Dr. Galic's Last Christmas

December 25, 2028

9:00 pm

San Quentin State Prison, Los Angeles, California

Dr. Arthur Galic sat gloomily in a bitterly cold icebox of a cell. He was condemned to the death sentence, for he is allegedly culpable for 11 murders of the first degree. Oh, what a man on death row would give for exoneration, especially at this time of year. Dr. Galic was scheduled to die on December 27th. There was nothing that could be done at this point, for the courts deemed him incorrigible.

To understand Dr. Galic’s reasoning for so many deaths, you must first understand that he is not a ruffian. Dr. Galic is an unscrupulous scientist, who ruthlessly carried out genetic experiments on 24 children, including his own son. The director of the laboratory where he works, Dr. Eustace Radley, deemed many of these experiments failures. Dr. Radley condescended himself to the level of a dog pound and ordered the termination of the so-called failed experiments. He then acted sycophantically to convince the courts to place the blame for the terminated experiments solely on Dr. Galic.

“To think that Radley is a man of reason,” Arthur muttered to himself, “He and his lackeys are the ones doing this to them.” Just then a prison guard came to the door.

“Galic you have a visitor. Should I send him in?” asked the guard through gritted teeth.

“Who is it?” asked Arthur.

“Atticus Galic,” replied the guard scowling, “Should I send him in?”

“Atticus Galic…? Fine, send him in,” Arthur told the guard, who left with a supercilious look on his face. What an imbecile, Arthur thought to himself, I'll bet that he's probably groveling to the warden about what a crazed lunatic he thinks I am. All because of that one file. The guard came back with the visitor. In the door stood the boy who used to think him as an august genetics expert who helped people. In the door stood his only son.

“Sir,” Atticus addressed plainly.

“Atticus,” Arthur said back, “Why don't you sit down and we'll talk awhile?”

“Yessir,” Atticus droned.

“You know, dear boy, that you don't have to address me like that. Now tell me, Atticus, what brings you here at this late hour?” asked Arthur.

“I ha--have come to tell you goodbye, a-and to tell you what a pathetic m-murderer you are,” Atticus said inasmuch monotone as he could muster.

“Now Atticus you know that I'm not--,” Arthur started to say.

“Sir,” Atticus addressed plainly.

“Atticus,” Arthur said back, “Why don't you sit down and we'll talk awhile?”

“Yessir,” Atticus droned.

“You know, dear boy, that you don't have to address me like that. Now tell me, Atticus, what brings you here at this late hour?” asked Arthur.

“I ha--have come to tell you goodbye, a-and to tell you what a pathetic m-murderer you are,” Atticus said inasmuch monotone as he could muster.

“Now Atticus you know that I'm not--,” Arthur started to say.

“YES, YOU ARE! I watched you. I watched you bring them to that room. I watched you tie them to that table. I watched you sedate them. I watched you inject them with pentobarbital sodium. I watched them all die one by one, and I was next,” Atticus yelled infuriated.

“For Heaven's sake, Atticus?! You used to be so deferent and impartial. You were such a quiet boy. What has happened to you?” asked Arthur.

“What's happened? What's happened!?! I'll tell 'ya what happened. Radley happened!” Atticus shouted now standing up pointing to his right shoulder.

“What did that son of a nazi do to you?” questioned Arthur.

“HE MADE ME ONE OF THEM. He tried to terminate me, and you didn't do anything to stop him!” Atticus screamed.

Arthur sighed, ”What was there for me to do? You know I've been stuck in here for the past year, and he's the one who has those files.” Atticus stared at him.

“Well then,” Atticus stated hoarsely, “I guess I'll take your death as a belated Christmas present. Good night to you, Father.”

“Good night, son,” Arthur stated as happily as a man on death row could.

 

December 27, 2028

11:55 pm

San Quentin State Prison, California

The guards led Arthur to the Death House for the last time. He was here yet again, but this time there was no hope for a stay of execution. The warden was ready to start the lethal injection procedure. Subjugated into lying on the table, the prison guards tied him down with brute force. The time is now 12:02 am. The IV line has been inserted into Arthur's vein. The curtains to the witness room were opened. Then the warden walked up to Arthur holding a microphone.

“Galic this is your only chance to make a last statement. You have two minutes to do so.” droned the warden. Arthur turned to look out the window at Atticus.

“My dearest Atticus, remember that purloining is only a misdemeanor. Also, a belated Merry Christmas to you, my dear boy,” Arthur gleefully smiled, even though he was about to die. Atticus looked at the clock sorrowfully. It read 12:05 am. Time to start the procedure. The warden pushed a button on the wall. Arthur was starting to feel the effect of the sedation.

“Goodbye, Father. You are still a brilliant scientist to me,” Atticus uttered with the slightest hint of sadness as the pentobarbital sodium slowly took effect. “I will remember the lessons you taught me always.” Arthur slowly faded away into the darkness. A doctor came into the room and checked Arthur´s pulse

“Arthur Galic is dead,” said the doctor.

Author Notes: The quote for this section is, “Currently he’s on a combination of Tylenol and morphine for the pain.” Other than that, I will let the writing speak for itself.
Disclaimer: The cover image is a screenshot from Portal 2. I thought the Enrichment Spheres embraces the concept of exactly what Atticus is.

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