Reanimated_Terminal Misery

by Jon State

“Exactly my point, and since when are we so trusting? Look—scratch that. I made sure he rests another day before you send him out there. I believe we’re supposed to be sending all returnees to Malica or Helen for a psych workup. Is this being carried out?” Dr. Spencer noticed a shift in Ben’s eyes.

  “We need all the help we can get, Spence, you know that. Only men are going out, and we can’t rely on the old or sickly,” Ben said, trying to meet Dr. Spencer’s eyes.

  “I know we’re desperate, but there’s no reason to be callous with people’s lives, especially when they’ve had a traumatic experience.”

  “Oh! I’m a monster again.” Ben squared up to Dr. Spencer.

  “No, but if we still have people, which haven’t gone out, then send them—” Dr. Spencer’s AID chimed. He answered it, still peering at Ben, “What’s going on?”

  “Emergency call from Malica Boudra, Doctor,” came the smooth female AI’s voice in the doctor’s ear. “Accept call.”

  “Spence, you need to get down to the infirmary, immediately.”

  Malica’s urgent tone had an edge he didn’t recognize. “On my way,” he said while pointing at Ben sternly. “We will discuss this in earnest as a team.”

  Dr. Spencer hurried past cots, machines, and cubicles, waving off inquiries or greetings. A mineral water droplet plopped on his nose. He wiped it away, already heading towards the metal bridge that connected both caverns. The MED area lay lower than the main dormitory caverns. Dr. Spencer established the MED accommodations near the exit because it provided fresh flowing air.

  “Thank God,” a gray-haired man voiced, his thinning hair enhancing the size of his forehead.

  “What’s going on, Frank?” Dr. Spencer said, noticing the man looked sleep-deprived, silvery stubs covered most of his jawline, and his eyes were pushed back in gray sockets.

  “I messed up. I was trying to repair my lack of judgment, but it has come undone. We have four cases, which I first diagnosed as upper respiratory infection, but overnight they have fallen into a feverish coma, and they're even talking in this dreamy state, as if delirious with fever. I am at a loss, Spence.” He slid the doctor a pad.

  Dr. Spencer remained silent as he panned through screens, his eyes growing wider by the moment. "What kind of pathogen is this?"

  “As far as I’ve been able to extrapolate, it’s a mutated virus smaller than anything we've ever seen, and it consumes antibodies.” Dr. Frank wiped at his sweat speckled forehead and Continued,” The patient’s defenses are hitting the virus with every protein possible, but nothing hinders the virus. I’ve tried several eradicators, repellents, chemical assault, but this nano-virus, as I’ve dubbed it, is implacable. I even sent in three nanite variations, and they went dead as soon as they shocked the virus. It was as if the virus repulsed the shock, sending it back to the nanites causing a short circuit," Dr. Frank said, his sunken eyes spooked.

  “Contagious level?”

  "We all have it. I mean, my staff and I, but it's probably incubating. No one has shown any symptoms, and I've learned that there are two more possible cases: one's coming from an expedition, the other one's a security guard found unconscious at his post," Dr. Frank said.

  “Is there anything you haven’t tried because of time or personnel constraints?”

  “No, I’ve tried everything I could fathom. The worst part is—the one coming back from the expedition and the security guard have different symptoms than these patients. The feverish speech is the same, though. We also have only one bed left.” Dr. Frank said, nearly snapping the pad due to his tremulous hands.

  Dr. Spencer understood the man’s apprehension. “You need to rest. I’ll take over here, and send someone else to receive those returning.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I will have to place them in the toasters we salvaged until I can figure something else out.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Frank said, slapping his oversized forehead.

  “You’re tired. Next time you encounter a dilemma—let me know—preferably before it becomes a crisis,” Dr. Spencer said, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod.

  ************************************

  The cavern’s stale air held a light mist of human and organic excretions. Flickering lights shot like lasers through the thick air. Six figures sat in the pall that hung over them.

  "I have run out of options. We lost the first two patients this morning, and more are showing symptoms. Frank's down as well. His case seems more severe than the incoming patients. I want to say his unguarded proximity to the first patients contributed to his current condition, but other staff members that worked close to him have no symptoms, and we have used all ten toasters," Dr. Spencer said, looking down and kicking a mound of dirt. His face had grown gaunt and hollow. He'd worked non-stop for three days, but the demon nano-virus seemed invincible. “I have nothing.”

  “We have something,” Malica said, placing a reassuring hand on the exhausted doctor’s shoulder.

  He considered her, wondering what she had in mind. He sat down reluctantly.

  “Mirra, you’re up,” Malica said, taking a seat next to the doctor.

  “I convened all ten Dreamers, and there is a prevalent message among our most recent dreams—release me.”

  When Mirra said nothing further, Dr. Spencer shook his head. “Release me—that’s what the patients keep mumbling—but what does it mean?”

  Ben stood. “I hate to be the one that offers this, but I think it’s the creature Tom captured. It’s the only live creature we have in captivity,” Ben said, shrugging as if he didn’t put stock into his own words.

  “Wait a sec. A potent virus is demanding through the sick and the Dreamers, that we release a creature that has nothing to do with it?” Dr. Spencer said his eyes widening.

  “Doc, I know this sounds absurd, but I’ve been putting together the data from each expedition, and there is a persistent pattern that there's a power that links each organic being in this planet. We are up against more than an alien intelligence. It's fair to say that we need to cooperate with the planet. I know this sounds like empty spiritual talk, but we don’t have answers—just a shit load of questions,” Efrem said, cocking his head sidelong. Since he’d spoken to the doctor about his miraculous run, he’d started accepting that there was some power guiding this world and possibly their actions.

  A penetrating silence held the room hostage, as examining eyes fell on Dr. Spencer, watching his reaction.

  “Okay, what the hell. Let’s do it,” Dr. Spencer said, adding, “If this works, I think we have our answer.”

  “I agree, despite how difficult it may be to accept. Gaea—the universal god of the Greeks—represented Earth. Perhaps, mythology has found a way to materialize in this new world,” Malica said, her eyes fixing on each person.

  “Ever since I woke up from my long sleep, I feel as if I’m in some parallel universe where things aren’t what they seem. I’ve always been a rational person, so I have to say that I am convinced that in this world anything is possible,” Efrem offered. “And I was a diehard skeptic before this place.”

  “I’m probably the biggest skeptic among you. I’ll have to wait and see what happens,” Dr. Spencer said. His son's image loomed in his mind. The young man's eyes were fading into the misty folds of his mind.

  ************************************

  Efrem and Private Johnson carried the container, and Mathew followed with a remote control. A group of people watched from a safe distance.

  The thrashing plant-like pig squealed louder, sensing the change in its captivity.

  The two men retreated to the rock face leaving the box on the bare soil.

  “Here he goes,” Mathew said, pressing the release icon on the remote.

  The pig slithered its tentacle-like paws across the soil as if feeling for threats, then it moved on, faster than seemed possible.

  “Now we wait,” Efrem said.

&nbs
p; ************************************

  “Ask me again?”

  “Ask you what, Spence?” Malica said, lowering her chin, intrigued.

  “Do I believe in a deity?”

  Malica smiled. “Do you?”

  "There is something. I'll grant you that. It may not be the Christian or Muslim God, but it's not a Bisonon being either.” Dr. Spencer watched more than twenty people eating and smiling. “These people were on the verge of death a few hours ago, and now they’ve been cured. Except, that is, for Frank and five others that lost the battle within hours. Back on Old Earth, this would be called a Miracle. Here, I think I’ll call it cooperation,” Dr. Spencer said as he went over blood results.

  “I don’t understand. We’ve killed creatures,” Malica said frowning.

  "True, but we did so in self-defense or for consumption. We trapped the creature to examine and experiment with it. I found out this morning that Ben had plans of his own for the creature. Once I finished all my data collection, he was going to dissect the being because it was the only one of its kind we’d captured.” He squared his face up with hers. “I hypothesize that the nano-virus is some form of synthetic-organic surveillance device. I've discovered it in the bat birds, the plants, and the flying reptile. In fact, we all carry it. Something is examining us, but I can't imagine by what." Dr. Spencer sighed.

  "Whatever it is, it has to be vast to cover the entire planet,” Malica added.

  “That’s true, but I think what we’re dealing with is beyond the physical laws we know. What we do know is that we can hunt and explore, but the indigenous life forms are slowly eliminating us. We need a better way,” the doctor said, rising from the table.

  “Perhaps we should pray.” Malica pursed her lips sardonically, expecting him to laugh.

  “Whatever works,” Dr. Spencer said, surprising Malica.

  Chapter 32

  Leap

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  May 23, 4067

  “Mirra, what’s going on?” Sammis entered the poorly lit cave, letting his eyes adjust. He could make out the silhouettes of the Dreamers closest to Mirra, they all sat cross-legged. She stood to face him.

  “We are.…” Should I tell him? I need to trust someone other than the Dreamers, she concluded. “…We are praying,” Mirra said, trying to examine his face, but it hid under the flickering candlelight.

  “Praying? Now there’s a word I thought I’d never hear you utter, especially when you once told me you dealt in facts, right?” Sammis leaned back against the cave wall, but remembering the salamanders sprung away. Two more Dreamers emerged from another entrance, bringing the prophets number to thirteen. As if we needed any more bad luck, he thought.

  “You’re right, but lately we feel the urge to do so. We’re letting our hearts guide us. Have you noticed how no one has come home dead from any mission lately?" Mirra said, gauging his reaction.

  “Maybe your right. Two teams said trees threw fruits at them, and then let them pick the fruit and come home safely. By the way, the fruits are delicious. I brought you one.” He held out an odd-shaped fruit. “Doc had them tested to make sure they’re safe to eat.”

  She smiled all teeth. “Thank you. Can you give us a minute?”

  “Sure.” Sammis put the fruit in her outstretched hand and parted.

  ************************************

  A few minutes later he nodded at the Dreamers as they left the cave. He noticed how different the Dreamers looked compared to everyone else—their clothing seemed self-made and their skin appeared brighter as if they'd bathed in shiny oils. Their eyes had a knowing in them, and their manner was slow and thoughtful, like clergy members.

  “Thanks for the fruit,” Mirra said, smiling one-sided and squinting. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you wanted something in return for it," she said, elbowing him.

  “Heavens! Can’t a man give a token of appreciation to a colleague without being labeled a degenerate?” Sammis turned to her.

  She eyed him sidelong, smiling. "How about if he's a scoundrel or a wolf in sheep's clothing."

  “He probably is,” Sammis said, leaning in and kissing her gently.

  “I think you’re still playing the sheep,” She whispered and returned the gesture.

  The two eased away from the kiss, eyes still closed and smiled. They had never expected to fall in love, but it had happened so suddenly. At first, they had tried to hide their feelings, clinging to those they had lost to the Cataclysm. Then, when they thought they were domed during the virus crisis, they let it run its course.

  “I didn’t know about the praying, though,” Sammis urged.

  "I was going to tell you, but I wanted proof that it worked," she said, sliding a teasing finger across his lips.

  “Well then,” Sammis started as he placed his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, as he swiftly caressed it, “tomorrow, you and I go on an expedition to test your theory," he said, wondering if she'd back out.

  “My, my, aren’t you the daring one.”

  "I've seen you transform ever since you started dreaming. You trust the dreams, and I trust you. Nothing heroic about it," Sammis said, wrapping her hand in his.

  “I was expecting an invitation to a quiet picnic,” Mirra said, pursing her lips.

  “We can pretend we’re in Lava Land.”

  “I love that VRG. I got lost in it once—damn thing glitched and removed the exit icon.”

  “How did you get out of it?”

  Mirra spread her arms. “They turned off the game. I freaked out. It took me a while to get over the whole experience.”

  “Not the cleverest way to exit a VRG. So if I start screaming like a little girl out there, you won’t hold it against me, right?” Sammis said, cocking his head with a mimicking pout on his lips.

  “Careful what you wish for. I’m a prophet, remember?” She said, waving her hand up and down in a trance gesture. “Let’s hope I’m a bit more creative during our expedition than how I reacted in Lava Land.”

  “We always have Mother’s guidance.”

  “That we do, Sammis.” Mirra was relieved he'd been tolerant of her ever-changing spiritual views. She decided not to tell him that she had dreamt about something that could happen during their trip into the unknown. She didn’t know if the vision pertained to them or another team, though so she kept it to herself.

  Chapter 33

  Fealty

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  May 24, 4067

  “You two sure of this? We don't have an abundance of brilliant ecologists s or botanists," Dr. Spencer said, holding Sammis’s shoulder, knowing Sammis knew what he meant.

  “Where’s the confidence, Doctor? I Promise we’ll be back in one piece.”

  “Just in case, we’re using leaf suits,” Mirra said, holding up the two suits she had sewn together with Sammis’s help.

  “I would’ve insisted you use them anyway. We haven’t lost anyone recently, but we don’t want to be careless. The moment we let down our guard and get too confident is when things can get out of control. At least that’s true in my experience,” Dr. Spencer said

  “We’ll be fine, Dr. Spencer,” Mirra said, hoping for his blessing. She had plenty of field experience back on Old Earth, and since they'd only risen a month ago, all their past remained, for the most part, pretty much clear. Her expeditions to Africa, the North Pole, and Australia, actually made her the perfect candidate for a mission.

  "During my childhood, I had a dog who liked to chase car, and unlike cows, the vehicles never kicked or snorted at him. My dog became confident and began trying to bite the car's front bumper, until one day, well, I'm sure you know the rest," Dr. Spencer said with a frown.

  Sammis nodded. “Got it. We’ll keep the suits on and stay away from unnecessary risks.”

  Dr. Spencer shook their hands and watched them exit the med level with concerned eyes.

  ***********************************


  The day stretched on as Mirra and Sammis gathered fruits or any usable items.

  “Walking like this makes my thighs hurt,” Mirra said.

  “Think of it as a workout, Sammis said as he exaggerated his swaying stride.

  "I'm getting used to it," she said smiling at his exaggerated movements.

  “Yeah, well, I still feel like a creepy-leafy ghost.”

  Mirra laughed. “I wonder what could’ve caused all the vegetation to become mobile. When it rains, the plant’s roots hunker down to protect the soil from erosion. The larger plants try to protect the small plants by letting them climb onto their trunks,” Mirra said.

  “The miraculous part is the cellulose chain, which is longer than the one found in cotton, making it flexible, but strong. Instead of large cells, they’ve developed smaller centralized nerve clusters similar to those in insects. I can only hypothesize, but it’s as if nature, in general, has learned to defend itself,” Sammis said, hoping this sounded plausible. In truth, he didn’t have a clue why the entire vegetable realm had developed motor skills, but there they were and here he found himself living among walking plants that could skewer a man with a single thrust of a root.

  “Yes, but why the urgency to protect themselves? The previous evolution had monsters of its own." Mirra sighed. "I fear we will never—" Mirra’s mouth closed with a snap. Her legs went rigid. Before them, the trees parted to reveal a vast clearing.

  Sammis gaped at the scene but became suspicious. “Any ideas? We’ve been walking all morning and help is far away. This looks like a trap.”

  Mirra remained reluctant while she processed what her eyes were witnessing. “The soil looks fertile. I don’t see anything. It must stretch for miles… I say we investigate?”

  “We promised Dr. Spencer no unnecessary risks. I say we turn around. It’s getting late. Plus, remember the dog in the doctor’s story,” he said, reaching for her hand. In the VRG’s he’d played back on Old Earth, you never strode into an exposed area.