by Kristen Judd
"As you can see, some people wish to destroy the earth. We seek to restore it and protect it. That is why you are here. You are the future of the world."
The screen panned through a slideshow of images all meant to alter the perception and understanding of reality. They were images of brutality, war, death, and disease. The images flashed one after the other in quick succession, just enough for the subconscious mind to decipher and lock them into memory.
"Can anyone tell me why man does this?"
A girl in the middle raised her hand.
"Yes, Ashley," Doctor Mayweather said.
"Because they're mean?" she asked in a meek voice.
Doctor Mayweather smiled. "Yes. There are very, very mean men and women out there who would like nothing more than to hurt you and me."
"Why would they want to hurt us? We haven't done anything to them," Ashley said.
"Some people have a darkness inside them that they cannot hide from. It pleases them to see others suffer."
"That's not nice," another young boy said. Samuel. He was the son of one of the neurologists they had recruited. His father had died months ago.
"Are they going to hurt us?" another young girl asked. Her red hair glowed like fire in contrast to the gray tile and dark walls.
"No one will hurt you," Doctor Mayweather said. "That's why you're here. We won't let anyone touch you, I promise."
She was good. Riggs almost believed her himself. He shifted his attention to Abigail again.
"Would you like to see your father?" he asked.
That got her attention.
"Is he here?" she said with excitement.
"No, but I can take you to see him," he said.
There was a fraction of sadness from his initial response then hope. She raised her hand.
"Yes, Abigail," Doctor Mayweather said.
"Can I go with Special Agent Riggs to see my father?"
The doctor made eye contact with Riggs as if saying, Is this such a good idea? Then said, "Of course, darling. We're just finishing up here. Just make sure you're back in time for Cleaning."
Cleaning was further mind control manipulation by having the children perform various redundant tasks that had no point other than to develop habitual thinking. It was easiest to train them when they were in that state of mind.
"Yes, ma'am," Abigail said. She folded up her picture and stuffed it in her pocket. Riggs held out his hand. She reluctantly took it. He led her out of the Recreational Habitat while Doctor Mayweather continued to teach the children about war and disease and how it was sweeping the world. They needed to believe that the world was dying and that they were safer here with them. The door closed behind them as Riggs and Abigail left the teaching area. He led her through the halls without saying a word. Her feet dragged behind her every few steps. She had her head drooped forward watching her feet.
"Pick up your feet," he said.
She stopped staring at the ground and walked normal. Riggs increased his grip on her hand and increased the pace. By the time they arrived to POD-543, he was nearly dragging her.
"Stay here." He had her stand near the pod entrance.
He walked over to the pod's door with the only surviving scientists inside. He opened a decontamination container near the door and placed a mask over his face. He ensured the straps were tight and the respiratory system was functioning. He took a few quick breaths. He scanned his wrist and walked. He waited for the decontamination chamber to finish its cycle, and then entered the laboratory. Adam was sitting and looking through his microscope, and Kondo and Sally were sitting around a table near the back in deep discussion.
Riggs strolled all the way through the laboratory without detection. He examined the white board and the monitor screens on Kondo and Sally's work stations, shuffling through the paperwork, printouts, and notes they had jotted down. They had come a long way. They were getting close. He walked over to Adam and pulled up a chair. Adam didn't look up. Riggs cleared his throat to get the man's attention. Adam casually lifted his eyes from the microscope and went to jot something down on a notepad when he saw Riggs next to him.
Adam's eyes flashed with rage for a moment then subsided. He was too weak to expend energy.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, scribbling his notes on the pad and returning his attention to the petri dish under the microscope's light.
"I've come to see how you're coming along with our cure," Riggs said.
"As you can see, we're still working on it," Adam said. He made more notes. Kondo and Sally were still in deep discussion and hadn't noticed Adam and Riggs talking twenty feet away.
Riggs pulled out a pair of latex gloves from a box on the supply table. He placed them on. Adam’s lab coat was soaked in black blood. His neck was bulging to three times the size. It looked like it would pop if Riggs just applied a small amount of pressure to the black sores.
"It wasn't personal," Riggs said after a moment of silence. "We needed to ensure that you'd be focused. We've already lost so many; we can't fail now. We're counting on you."
"I know." Adam pushed away from the table and scooped up three more vials from a metal box. He used an eyedropper to get a few more samples. He slid back to his workstation. "Why are you still here? Don't you have someone else to kill?"
Riggs suppressed the grin that was forming. Adam had no idea.
"I've come to show you something," Riggs said. "Something to give you that extra push to the finish line. You're the best, Doctor Richards. We both know that, but even the best can falter if they don't have the right coach."
"So, you're my coach now, huh? Terrific!"
Riggs pulled out a handheld device and flicked the screen on. He pressed play and let the video stream. Adam didn't look right away.
"What you're seeing is the half a mile of ice sheet cracking over Mount Erebus in West Antarctica," a man's voice said. "With the ice melting and falling away, if the volcano were to erupt, there would be no resistance to stop it."
Adam glanced over. "Your doing?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "What else have you done? Is there anyone left alive out there?" Adam meant it as sarcasm but didn't realize just how true to home that was.
Riggs scrolled through the video to the next scene. "I know you hate me and what I did to you."
"Hate doesn't even begin to describe the feelings I have for you," Adam said with a hiss.
"Be that as it may. We're on the same team. You and I, we aren't so different."
"We're nothing alike," Adam said. "You're a murderer. I save lives."
"How many lives have you sacrificed to develop a cure? How many people had to suffer for you to get ahead in your research? No, Doctor Richards, you and I are of the same stock. Our methods may be different, but our end goal is the same: humanity's survival. You know as well as I do that sacrifices are a necessary recourse to our future."
Adam didn't respond. Even though he agreed with everything Special Agent Riggs was saying, he didn't want to utter it out loud.
"Do you see these bodies?" Riggs said.
He grabbed Adam by the neck and jerked his eyes to the screen. One of the welts on his neck burst and oozed black blood down his collar.
"These people? They didn't have a chance. But we do. Millions of lives are at stake, and we can help them. We can be the reason why the human race survives another thousand years. Don't you want to be a part of that legacy? Don't you want to be the one who saved us?"
It was true that Adam would like nothing more than such an honor, but at what cost?
"What happened to them?" he asked instead, watching the images of mutilated and decayed dead bodies flash across the screen. One after the other, they were piled high in burn stacks and set ablaze. Others were just dumped into large dug out ditches and covered up with dirt. It reminded Adam of the terrible genocide that had taken place in Africa two decades earlier.
"They were infected with the plague," Riggs said.
Adam glanced at him. "How is
that possible? Sure, the plague was still around, but it never killed that many people. We've come a long way since then."
"Even so, this is our reality. My guess is that the virus mutated over the last six hundred years to be resistant to our antibiotics and treatments. We first noticed the death toll rising in central Africa. Entire tribes were being wiped out by a mysterious curse. That's what the local tribesmen called it. Witch doctors were called upon to cast protection and set up totems to shield other villagers from the curse. As you can see, it didn't work."
As the images played, the scenes of carnage only got worse.
"The President of the Uganda held a private press conference with the leaders of the Global Inquiry and United Nations to discuss an epidemic in his country. When the President of the United States got wind of it, our team was sent to investigate. We were able to quarantine the virus from spreading to other parts of Africa and world."
The images proved his story.
"You bombed them?" Adam said. "They were innocent lives. How could you murder thousands of people?"
"We did what had to be done. The nukes worked, at least for a few months. Six months later, we received reports that the virus had made its way to Nigeria, Morocco, and Algeria. We knew it was only a matter of time before it made its way to Europe. Once that happened, it would go global."
"So, you hired the best scientists from all across the world to try and develop a cure?"
"Yes. We thought we could contain it, but the virus proved elusive and resistant to all our attempts. It was too strong and seemed to continue to mutate."
"Viruses can't evolve that quickly," Adam said.
"This one did." Riggs clicked the video off and placed the handheld device on the table. "The virus has made its way to Europe." Riggs let the weight of his words settle for a moment. A few seconds later, Adam seemed to understand.
"So, why blow the volcano? How could that possibly help?"
"The volcano was a decoy. We knew it was only a matter of time before reports of the virus spread to Europe and all of Asia, eventually to our shores. And when that happened, all the world would be looking to us to save them. And with the population crisis and cities being overcrowded and there not being enough food and supplies for everyone, we needed to be proactive. It was only a matter of time before one of the poorer countries broke and a world war broke out. If that happened, we'd all die.
“So, we devised a strategy that would secure our nation's future. The volcano was a calculated strike to guarantee our survival. By setting off our own natural disaster and catastrophe before the world knew about the virus, we ensured our future. Now we are the victim and need the world's help. And when the virus strikes, and it most certainly will, it'll be everyone for themselves."
"You're insane," Adam said. "How can you sit here and tell me that killing millions of our own citizens was okay? And for what? To portray America as this faltering, weak super power that was clinging to life?"
Riggs stood firm.
"I don't believe it," Adam said. "I won't believe it. For all I know, these images were engineered and fake."
"I assure you, they are not," Riggs said.
"Whether they are, or they aren't, it doesn't change anything. You're going to hell for what you've done. There's no forgiveness waiting for you at the other end of the tunnel."
"I want to show you something that might put things into perspective for you," Riggs said. "Come with me."
Adam didn't budge.
Riggs grabbed him by the cuff of the collar and lifted him off the chair. With Adam's body having become nothing more than a walking zombie, he couldn't resist. Riggs dragged Adam toward the lab's exit.
"What are you doing with him? Let him go," Sally yelled. She rushed toward Riggs but slid to a stop when Riggs pointed his weapon at her face. Kondo placed himself between her and Riggs.
"You will come no closer," Riggs said.
"Put the gun down. There's no need for it," Kondo said. Riggs' eyes flashed his way. Kondo's legs were tight, ready to spring into action at any moment.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Riggs said. "The good doctor and I are only going for a short walk. I promise I'll bring him back."
Riggs inched backward and flicked his wrist to activate the door leading to the decontamination chamber. He scooted into it, pulling Adam along with him and waited for the door to close. The moment the mist shot out of the vents, he holstered his weapon and released Adam, who toppled over into the glass. He saw Sally braced up against the other side.
“I'm okay,” he mouthed. Tears filled her eyes. Kondo stood nearby, not knowing how to respond. He held his hand up to the man, who understood. Kondo took Sally by the hand and led her back to their work.
"Don't worry. You'll see your friends again soon. Put this on." Riggs tossed him a hazmat suit.
Adam obliged without complaint. Once he had the suit on, Riggs opened the outer door. He ushered Adam through. When Adam exited the lab, he felt as though he could breathe again. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them next, Abigail was standing in front of him.
"Abby?" Adam said.
"Daddy!"
She ran into his arms and embraced the white plastic suit. Adam hugged his daughter.
"I've been worried about you, Daddy. Why didn't you come back?"
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. Daddy had to take care of something very important for Special Agent Riggs."
"Are you going to stop the virus?" She stood tall and looked at him blankly as if what she uttered was normal.
"Um... yes, sweetie. Daddy is going to stop the virus."
Adam glared at Riggs. What else had they told his daughter? And how much of it was lies?
Abigail's face suddenly contorted into a frown. "Daddy, what's wrong with your face? It's all purple and splotchy."
"Daddy isn't feeling well. It's just the flu," he lied. "I'll be okay in a few days. I promise."
"Yeah, Abigail. Your father is right. It's just a cold and he'll be back to top shape in no time. That's a promise." Riggs patted Adam on the back with the word promise. Riggs' weapon was holstered around his waist. If he acted quickly, he might catch the special agent off guard. As if sensing his thoughts, Riggs held Abigail to his side.
"She's been a good girl, Daddy. She's doing very well in Doctor Mayweather's class. I have no doubt that she'll be at the top of the class in no time."
"What class?" Adam said, climbing to his feet.
"Doctor Mayweather teaches us about the world and the future. She said we're the last hope for mankind. What does mankind mean, Daddy?"
"It's a term used for all people. What did you mean by 'us', sweetie?"
"The other children. There's a bunch of us in the class. We get to wear these cool helmets, but they kind of give me a headache. They have this weird static. Doctor Mayweather said it was only the software linking her voice to the headset."
"What are you teaching these children?" Adam directed his question to Riggs.
"We must think to our future," Riggs said.
"They're just children! They don't understand any of this."
"That's why we must teach them. If they are to know the world we once lived in and be able to face the new one, we must equip them to do so. I assure you, Doctor Richards, as I said before, they are in good hands."
Adam grabbed his daughter's hand in his gloved one and pulled her to his side. "We're leaving."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Riggs said, his hand near the weapon.
"What? Are you going to shoot me? Go ahead! You've already killed me once."
"Daddy, you're hurting me." She tried to pull her hand free of his grasp.
"It's okay, sweetie. We're leaving."
"But I don't want to go." She managed to slip her hand free of his and fell to the floor pouting.
"I know you like it here. I do, too." Another lie. "But we need to go make sure Mommy is okay. She's probably worried about us."
&
nbsp; "Mommy?" She looked confused. "I don't have a mother." Her voice took on an odd robotic sound, as if she were reciting a creed by memory.
Riggs stepped forward and took her hand in his again. "You see, Doctor Richards. It's too late. She is our daughter now."
He had the gun drawn, held by his side, and aimed on Adam's chest.
"We would much rather you stayed and joined us. The world outside is a very scary place. Isn't that right, Abigail?"
The little girl nodded, her eyes distant.
"What have you done to her?" Adam said.
"Saved her life. Something you seem incapable of doing."
"I'm her father!" he shouted.
"Not anymore. She needs a father who is strong, someone who is willing to make the tough calls and do what is best for the whole. She needs someone who thinks big picture and never wavers on his or her resolve. She needs me," Riggs said. "I'm her father now. All of the children are mine."
"You can't do this," Adam said, the last ounce of strength quickly fading. His heart was breaking. The only strand of purpose he had left no longer looked at him the same.
"Abigail, baby. It's me."
"I don't know you," she said and moved farther away.
"You see, Doctor Richards, it's too late. I'm only going to ask one more time, join me and together we can find a cure and save the world."
Adam was sobbing. His beautiful little girl wouldn't look at him. He lowered his head in defeat. As he raised his head back up, something in one of the other pods caught his eye. He watched the dead body writhe on the tile, then rise to its feet. The other dead scientists soon followed. He lowered his face to the floor again to hide his thoughts. Why were the dead rising? Could the virus do that? Instead of killing its host, did it change them into something else? Adam was careful when he raised his head again, seeing the bodies begin to rise in the other pods out of his periphery.
He held up his hands. "All right." His face was streaked with tears. He looked to his daughter one last time, his heart shattered. Did she just flick her eyes? He thought maybe his vision was deceiving him again, but then she did it again. There was no mistaking it; his daughter was signaling him. Riggs had her next to his side, the one with weapon.