“OK,” said Cyrus, still feeling a little overwhelmed. “How much stronger are we talking?”
“Possibly six times stronger than the average human male once the nanobots fully complete their work.” Shen shrugged. “Maybe even stronger. We won’t be sure until it is tested.”
“Wow, that much…” said Cyrus, suddenly hoping what the doctor said was true, excited by the prospect.
“Only after the nanobots have completed the repairs and improvements to your body will we know for sure.”
Shen’s words caused a light to appear in Cyrus’s eyes.
“You will reach that level of development soon. In addition to the increase in strength, you will also be much faster, much more agile, and will have more stamina than the average human.”
Come on, doctor,” Cyrus scoffed. ”Nice try, but you’ll have to do better than that if you want to pull one over on me. Suppose I might as well start wearing tights and a cape. What else you got?” Even as he rebuked him, Cyrus wanted to believe everything Dr. Shen said was true. He supposed that maybe he should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he was a goner a mere two weeks ago, and now he could walk.
“I assure you, Mr. Blackthorn, everything I have just told you is true, providing the procedure went as anticipated.” Shen blinked multiple times, his eyes void of any sense of humor.
Cyrus looked past him, distracted by his reflection in the shiny, black screen of the shutoff monitor just off to the doctor’s left. A cold tingle crept over his spine, a terrible thought entering his head when he looked into his yellow eyes.
"You’re not going to let me leave, are you?” Cyrus suddenly felt downcast, his voice growing soft. “Even if you don’t have something sinister planned, you can’t let me leave.”
“Mr. Blackthorn…” Dr. Shen started again
“Why did you even bother telling me I would be able to leave?” Cyrus cut him off. “It seems like you just lie for the heck of it. Your talents have been wasted on science. The way you lie, you probably could have been a good lawyer, or maybe even a politician.”
“We plan on releasing you in due time.” Dr. Shen stopped him, ignoring the slight against him. “As previously stated, there are conditions for your release. Tests that need to be performed. Data which must be gathered. Your physical appearance and regained abilities will have no bearing on your release. After all of our conditions are met, you will be allowed to leave. It’s a minimal price to pay, Mr. Blackthorn, to perform several simple tests in exchange for a healthy body.”
“Well, when you put it that way, it does kind of sound like I owe you.” Cyrus’s mood lightened. “Nothing comes free, after all. Though, I would like to point out that I was right about there being a catch.”
The doctor stared off into space, refusing to grant Cyrus any acknowledgment.
“You know, doctor, keeping me around for tests isn’t all that big of a deal.” Cyrus attempted to press Shen again. “Why didn’t you just tell me everything you had planned to do before you started the procedure? I’m sure I would have agreed to it. Unless… No, surely not…”
He paused, tripping himself up, lost in thought.
“What exactly do these tests involve?” Cyrus asked, his eyes narrowing.
“The tests to be performed should not present a problem.” The doctor gave him a look of deep sincerity. “They will require only a little effort on your part. I realize, given the degree of distrust you are displaying, you would like more information than what has been given, but unfortunately, I am not at liberty to tell you any more regarding the tests. You will just have to believe me.”
“Well, if I have no other choice…” Cyrus decided to believe the doctor. A deep frown formed on his face as his suspicions returned to prior levels.
“What else aren’t you telling me? How far down does this iceberg go?”
“You are very perceptive.” Dr. Shen raised an eyebrow. “In the interest of full disclosure, there are other reasons as to why you must be kept here, in addition to what I have just mentioned.”
“OK, let’s hear them.” Cyrus crossed his arms. “You are making quite an effort to drag your feet.”
“Just be patient. I will tell you everything you wish to know. Some of it must be said with a certain degree of finesse, which is difficult to fulfill in haste. I apologize if I’m overly subtle, but there is no other way to go about it.”
Cyrus readjusted his position in his chair, making himself comfortable, feeling Shen was a long-winded talker.
“Given your background in molecular biology,” the doctor continued, “I am sure you are very aware that there exists a considerable amount of human metabolic disorders. For example, there are diseases in which the affected either cannot or have great difficulty breaking down certain organic molecules.”
“You mean something like… umm… something like phenylketo…” Cyrus was becoming frustrated, having difficulty remembering the name. “Something like PKU, where phenylalanine can’t be metabolized?”
“Precisely. There are certain metabolic disorders like phenylketonuria where individuals cannot break down certain substances. Among these metabolic disorders, there are also a few where the patient cannot metabolize a number of organic substances.”
“I’m not surprised that there are.” Cyrus shrugged, unsure how what the doctor said had anything to do with him. “I suppose someone could potentially have more than one of those disorders and survive, though it would be difficult. I’m certain if someone couldn’t metabolize most of the nutrients required for survival, they likely wouldn’t last very long. That’s if they even made it out of the womb.”
“That’s an accurate enough statement.” Dr. Shen could never let him be entirely right. “Unfortunately, it is not entirely true. An individual can survive and be incapable of metabolizing many substances, difficult though it may be. In fact, in recent years, another one, or I suppose you could say another two, of these metabolic disorders was discovered. In fact, a disease in which the affected are incapable of metabolizing a great many substances exists. Sufferers can only subsist on a very limited, very specific diet.”
“What is it called?” Cyrus’s patience ran low, and he doubted the information Shen gave.
“We will arrive at the name in a moment.” Shen raised a hand as though trying to stop him. “Anyway, the disorder of which I speak is quite different from any other metabolic disorder otherwise discovered by man. It is most peculiar, as the affected are so limited by what they can metabolize that all of their nutrition must come from one particular source. They cannot break down any plant material whatsoever or anything significantly distant from themselves phylogenetically. This leaves them only one source from which to draw sustenance. Human flesh and blood. They are essentially obligate cannibals.”
“OK, what?” asked Cyrus, suppressing a laugh.
He looked at the doctor and saw a face of stone-cold severity.
“You surely don’t mean, or it sounds a lot like…” he trailed off. “Sorry, it’s just that what you described sounds a lot like zombie-ism or something.”
The doctor remained silent as Cyrus awaited his answer, the eerie, noiseless moment lasting an eternity.
“The term ‘clinical zombie-ism’ could be applied to one form of the disease,” the doctor answered at last, relieving Cyrus’s anxiety. “In the case of the other related disorder, I believe vampirism is more accurate. One of the only major differences between the two diseases is what happens to the mental faculties. With the vampiric form, these remain mostly intact, while those afflicted with zombie-ism seem to lose most of them. Those with vampirism also display a slight preference for blood as opposed to flesh, whereas those with zombie-ism don’t usually have a preference at all.”
As much as he didn’t want to believe the doctor’s words, Cyrus’s skepticism had dwindled away. Shen made some ridiculous claims, but he used language that made what he was saying almost credible. Nevertheless, he needed more
information if he wished to discern the truth.
“Well, I suppose when you put all of it in technical terms like that, it’s feasible that both clinical, physiological vampirism and zombie-ism could exist.”
Cyrus leaned forward in his chair, looking Shen in the eye.
“I would assume it is easier to deal with than the vampirism from folklore. I mean, there’s not a modern society that is OK with the consumption of human flesh and blood. But, I think there is a possibility that people would understand having to resort to it when you have no other choice, so long as you do it the right way. You know, only eat people who are already dead. We couldn’t just allow them to die. I’m sure it’s easy enough to find a cadaver to feed them. Their metabolic needs shouldn’t be any higher than that of the average person, so I wouldn’t think it would take all that many bodies.”
“There is a little more to the disorder than that, Mr. Blackthorn. In addition to causing obligate cannibalism, those affected with either form of the disease also have increased nutrition needs, similar to that of a large predator, like a lion or another of the order Panthera. This means their caloric needs are up to five times that of the average individual.”
The doctor removed his glasses and clean them on his lab coat.
“Unlike the other metabolic disorders, clinical vampirism imparts certain physical advantages to the affected.” Dr. Shen put his glasses back on. “Individuals display increased strength, speed, and stamina, in addition to increased sensory perception. Though I suggested it does not affect the mental faculties, some people can display certain behaviors associated with psychopathic individuals. There are indeed instances where mental functioning is reduced somewhat, though not to the extent of what we see in zombie-ism. More accurately, it is believed that the disease tends to reduce one to a more primal way of thinking, where the frontal lobe of the brain sees a great reduction in function, causing one’s cognitive abilities to become more animalistic. All of that is theoretical, of course. We have yet to formally analyze the psyches of anyone with vampirism. It could be that feeding on the flesh and blood of other humans itself is enough to lead to the development of severe psychosis.”
“What’s the initial cause of either disorder?” Cyrus grew more convinced by the second, though he would have never admitted it. “I would think it would be inherited genetically, like nearly all of the other metabolic disorders.”
“The disease’s method of conveyance may be its most interesting attribute.” Dr. Shen gave him a sly smile. “You see, the disease develops via viral infection. There are two different but very similar viruses, one for each of the two types of this disorder. Both are transmitted through bites and only affect humans. As I’m sure you know, infection through a bite isn’t the most efficient means for transmission compared to transference through the air. This is a good thing, of course, as infection with either virus nearly always leads to the development of the disorder. It’s just that potent. If someone with a significantly compromised immune system were to be infected, they could potentially die due to some complications, though this has been observed in very few cases. However, so long as the individual survives the initial attack, they have a good chance of survival.”
“What do you mean ‘attacked’?” Cyrus interrupted, unable to contain himself. “You surely don’t mean that those infected with the virus are actually assaulting other people, do you? It’s starting to sound even more like you’re talking about mythological vampirism. Whatever credibility you gained, you’re starting to lose it.”
“I wish I hadn’t let it slip as I was attempting to arrive at that point later,” Shen admitted. “Anyway, yes, that is indeed true. Those who have developed either disorder do routinely attack uninfected individuals for sustenance. Those with zombie-ism, having lost so much of their brain functioning, are incapable of controlling their more basal urges. They will attack nearly any living thing, both humans and animals. Those with vampirism possess more self-control, but yet, still attack others. As I have stated earlier, this form of the disorder tends to cause what might be termed ‘severely sadistic behavior.’” The doctor leaned forward in his seat, addressing Cyrus in a near whisper.“I understand why you would doubt what I’m telling you. I sincerely wish what I just said was not true, but, unfortunately, that is just not the case.”
“All that sounds interesting.” Cyrus frowned, arms still crossed. “Metabolic disorders like that always are. The only thing is, what does any of this have to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you,” the doctor continued to whisper, quickly returning to normal volume. “I’ll tell you exactly what it means to you if you will just entertain my subtlety for a while longer.”
“I’m having a difficult time believing any of this.”
“Is there anything I can say to convince you?”
“I can't imagine that there is. You’ve made some pretty ridiculous claims.”
“Well, if there is nothing I can say to convince you...”
Shen rose from his seat, making toward the door with a kind of defeated walk. He had taken some offense to Cyrus’s doubts. The doctor turned the door handle and looked back at him.
“Come with me, Mr. Blackthorn. I have something to show you,” said Shen, just before disappearing into the hallway.
Cyrus shook his head, rising from his seat and reluctantly following him, stumbling at first but managing to keep his balance.
Chapter X
The Plague
“Here we are,” said Dr. Shen, straining to open the heavy sliding door.
Cyrus stood behind him, along with Elysia and Viddur, anticipating the end of their surprisingly long trek.
Originating from Cyrus’s room, the doctor led them through a labyrinth of hallways. The place was a maze of nothing but bone-white walls, tile floors, and the occasional chrome-plated elevator. Strenuous though the walk had been, Cyrus found the soreness in his feet exhilarating, a sensation he had all but forgotten.
“After you, Mr. Blackthorn,” said Dr. Shen.
The open doorway revealed a dubious-looking stairway, only the topmost portion exposed by the light of the adjoining hallway. Darkness blanketed all the rest.
“I would prefer not to enter first if that’s OK.” Cyrus stared down the dark hallway.
Suspicion spiked in his head. The feeling was similar to what he had experienced when he first met Dr. Shen. He still had every reason not to trust him, even when he considered what the doctor had done for him. Shen already neglected to tell him about all of the cure’s side-effects, after all.
“Very well,” said Dr. Shen, understanding his hesitation. “Viddur, you go first.”
“Sure thing, doctor,” said Viddur. He walked past them and down the darkened stairs, a light switching on moments later.
“Elysia,” said Shen as he motioned toward the door. “Mr. Blackthorn and I will follow you.”
Elysia wordlessly proceeded through the doorway and down the stairs, leaving Cyrus in the hallway with the doctor.
“You first,” said Cyrus, failing to hide the suspicion in his voice. “Forgive me. It’s just sometimes I have difficulty fully trusting medical professionals. It’s what you get out of a lifetime of disease. All the poking and prodding and the false hope they sometimes give you…” He let his abduction go without mention, as he found it the most apparent reason for his mistrust.
“Of course.” Shen remained beside the door. “All of your precaution is unnecessary, I assure you. You have been a very successful subject thus far. On behalf of all CyberGen, I’ll say this: We wouldn’t wish any harm to befall you.”
“I’d rather not take any chances.” Cyrus gave him a cynical smile. “Surely you can understand that.”
“Very well.” Dr. Shen’s frustration showed as his shoes hit the floor louder than usual.
Cyrus followed behind him, silent as he made his way through the doorway and down the stairs.
The air instantly became suffoc
ating. The stairs descended into a sparsely lit, poorly aerated passageway, the whole atmosphere dank and dusty, in great contrast with the rest of the facility. Where the other halls were clean and sterile, this passageway was left filthy; the walls fouled with dirt. The closed-in walls and cobwebs made Cyrus feel as though he had stepped into a tomb. He hoped it didn’t turn out being his.
“Viddur, would you please close the door?” asked Dr. Shen, nervously looking back to see if Cyrus had entered the doorway.
“Sure thing.” Viddur punched the red glowing button on the wall beside him.
“CyberGen ever think to clean this place up?” Cyrus suppressed the impulse to sneeze as his eyes begin to water. “It’s dusty as heck down here.”
The door closed behind them, and the locking system immediately snapped back into place. The noise sent chills down Cyrus’s spine. His body went stiff, ready for the impending attack.
Dr. Shen looked up at him from the bottom of the stairs, bored by his antics.
“It’s simply not an option,” said the doctor. “A cleaning crew cannot be allowed into this area. There’s just too much of a chance someone will discover what we’re keeping down here. Most of our staff don’t know about many of the things we do here, and I’m sure they will not be at all pleased by what they might find. The only way to tidy up the place would be for someone fully aware of our activities to volunteer.”
“For the last time.” Viddur turned back around to glower at Dr. Shen. “I’m not cleaning up down here! You can stop with all the hints!”
“Why have Viddur clean down here?” asked Elysia, a hint of mirth in her voice. “Everything will still be dirty even after he’s done.”
Fall Prey: The Hunt Page 15