The Arklay Outbreak

Chapter Three

“We are single-handedly redefining genetic science,” Wesker said to the group of scientists gathered in the room. After the unfortunate incident the day before, he felt they needed another pep talk. He had to give them one every few months to keep them focused on the goal of the company, to prevent them from losing faith in the work they were doing. Each time one of their own was killed, morale dropped a little more, and Wesker had to work that much harder to get them back on track, to keep their eye on the prize. Bad morale was like a disease by itself; one scientist discouraged by the difficulties would infect all the others and pretty soon he’d have a revolt on his hands.

“We are on the cutting edge of biology. We are learning more about genetic theory, DNA transmission, and biological extremes that anyone has ever known. Twenty years ago, what takes place here on a daily basis was considered outrageous science fiction. We are the scientific avant-garde. We are the leading edge in our entire field.”

Wesker had worked with the same research team for the last six years, so he knew all of them quite well. They were all dedicated and loyal, but everyone had their breaking point. Seeing one of your coworkers murdered in front of your eyes by an unnatural monster you helped create could shake anyone’s faith in their work. These men had consciences and work ethics, and Wesker had to motivate them to keep working despite the horrors they witnessed daily. Keeping them in line was the most stressful part of his job.

“What happened yesterday was a tragedy, but we can’t let it get in the way of the progress we’re making. We can’t let it discourage us. Darryl was a good man and a brave scientist, and he didn’t deserve to die that way, but we can’t bring him back. The best we can do is keep working, keeping fighting, to make sure he didn’t die for nothing. If we let this terrible accident stop our work, then his death would be even more of a tragedy.”

He saw some of them nodding, and it made him feel better. They had seen other coworkers die in the past few years, so it was nothing new. He just had to ensure that they were still on his side.

Wesker’s advantage in this aspect was that his team actually liked working with him. They liked him as a scientist, as a supervisor, and most importantly, they simply liked him as a person. Getting people to listen to him and do what he wanted was so much easier if he didn’t have to make them like him as well. Wesker prided himself on being the kind of boss that his employees wouldn’t hesitate to invite to a party. All the men who worked with him liked and respected him.

As opposed to someone like William Birkin, who treated his research team like garbage and was feared and despised in his own lab as a result. Wesker tried to imagine Birkin giving an impassioned pep talk to his team and simply couldn’t do it.

In this way, Wesker’s management style at the lab differed greatly from his work with the RCPD. None of the people in the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team would ever think to invite Wesker to a party. He maintained strict social detachment from the members of his police unit, because he couldn’t afford for any of them to be involved in his private life. But managing a team of police officers was very different than managing scientists. Cops respected authority and followed the rules. Scientists were more fickle about their loyalties, as Wesker himself knew from personal experience.

“We’re doing extremely dangerous work, as you all know. We always have to be on our guard, we always have to be aware of our surroundings. We have to exercise caution every step of the way. But we’re making progress, and we get closer every day to solving the mystery of the Progenitor and the T-virus. When we finally learn all there is to know, we can step back, bask in the knowledge that we conquered biology, and reap the rewards for our efforts. And the sacrifices that men like Darryl made will always be on our minds.”

Calling it a “sacrifice” was overly positive and very misleading. Surely, if Darryl could communicate beyond the grave, he would not call it a sacrifice at all. He would call it a gruesome accident, a terrible tragedy. Sacrifices, by definition, were made willingly, and Wesker doubted that poor Darryl had willingly let the loose hunter eviscerate and disembowel him with a few quick slashes from its claws.

“We have to keep working, we have to keep moving forward. We can’t let this incident slow us down, or it will have been for nothing. After everything we’ve been through here in this lab, we have to go all the way. We owe it to ourselves to keep working.”

He went on like that for a little while longer, alternatively urging them forward, cautioning them, supporting them, inspiring them, and nursing their grief. His voice was like a magic cure-all, telling them a dozen things at once, emphasizing a broad range of emotions simultaneously. He contradicted himself throughout, but his audience did not notice. They weren’t there to study his words, only to accept them. They were a crowd of sheep, needing to be directed and managed. They were sheep, and Wesker was their shepherd.

After his speech, they all got back to work, as he knew they would. They just needed reinforcement and encouragement. It was the reason that Wesker was the one in charge; he was the only one of them who could really think for himself.

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