The Virus

by Steven Spellman

  “Does she know?” Dr. Crangler asked again, a single step away from hysteria now. Geoffrey simply looked on, relishing the doctor’s rising angst for a brief moment. How many hours had he spent in his whitened room on the verge and beyond hysteria? How many days was he trapped in this place, away from family, friends, and familiarity, without so much as a hint as to when, if ever, all of this was to come to an end? When Geoffrey saw telepathically in the doctor’s panic, he about to give Geoffrey a good shaking and assault the answer out of him, he thought it best to not toy with the doctor any longer, even if it was only fair.

  “No, she doesn’t know,” Geoffrey at last answered, just as the doctor grabbed Geoffrey’s shoulders. The relief on Dr. Crangler’s face was evident until Geoffrey finished, “at least, not yet, anyway.”

  “What does that mean?” It was difficult for Dr. Crangler to keep his voice at a normal pitch.

  “It means that sometimes, not too often, but sometimes, she suspects that something isn’t quite…right.” Geoffrey answered. Even if Geoffrey couldn’t have read the doctor’s mind, it would’ve still been abundantly clear on his face what he was about to ask, “And what does that mean?”

  Geoffrey answered before the words filled the doctor’s mouth, “It means that her mind is not like yours or your assistants’, or even mine for that matter. It’s like a funhouse of mirrors in that girl’s head. Thoughts disappear without warning, other thoughts change instantly for no foreseeable reason. Man, I don’t think she knows what she’s thinking half the time. I remember my father telling me a long time ago that some scientists got together and performed a bunch of research and tests and found out that girls and boys are different. You know, fundamentally different, down to the very neuron organization in their brains. I remember thinking at the time that that was the very personification of stupidity. These were supposed to be the world’s most capable minds and they had to spend millions of taxpayer dollars to compile research and run tests to find out that guys and girls are different? It was stupidity, if ever I’ve seen it. But now, I guess I can see their point, because, trust me Dr. Crangler, you’ll never know just how different guys and girls are until you can see into a female’s brain. I don’t know if every one of them is like that, but that one,” he gestured back toward Delilah’s room, “her mind is like a very elaborate, changing maze that has no discernible route or exit. Sure, I can read her enough to maybe gain her trust, but to really understand her…” Geoffrey shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

  The two had made it back to Geoffrey’s room door by this time, but Dr. Crangler didn’t lift a gesture to one of the cameras lining the hall for the door to be opened, as he usually did. Instead, he moved closer to Geoffrey. “All right,” he whispered, “so you’re telepathic and a philosopher, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What do you mean, she hasn’t found out yet? And how are you planning to move along with this? I don’t think I need to remind you that I need to begin the procedure as soon as possible, or trust me, there will be seriously ramifications.” Geoffrey saw in the doctor’s mind that he meant not only his superiors, but also the ravished world outside. The ravished world outside…it had almost become an afterthought to Geoffrey and Delilah. Shielded as they were behind bunker doors and beneath ever-working Cleaning Lights, they had almost forgotten that countless scores of women around the world were being literally ripped apart by overgrown, unborn children who were not being birthed by nature’s usual dictates, and that this was happening every day. What’s more, since The Virus saw to it that mother and child (or children) all died even if the child was cut out before the mother’s belly, the death toll was now well in the millions. In the coming months, The Virus promised only more casualties, until not a newborn or childbearing woman was left on the entire face of the planet.

  Reminded of this truth, Geoffrey chided himself for wasting time having fun at the doctor’s expense. “All right, I do have an idea I think will help keep Delilah oblivious to my telepathy and speed up the procedure.” Dr. Crangler, or course, was all ears, but it was not his ears which Geoffrey had in mind. “But first,” Geoffrey continued, “I can see that you don’t want to talk in my room because of the camera, but aren’t there cameras out here as well?”

  Well past shock at his patient’s ability to know what was going through his mind, Dr. Crangler answered, “There are, but they’re spaced out far from each other and the microphones have a hard time picking up voices at certain places, but all the walls are soundproof, so it’s much easier to pick up sounds in closed rooms…” Dr. Crangler thought for moment, “but shouldn’t you already know that? Is Delilah’s brain really that cluttered, that it’s scrambling yours?”

  Geoffrey had to chuckle at this, because, though such was not the case, it would’ve otherwise been quite plausible. “Well, Dr. Crangler, I’ll just say this: Any man who thinks or claims that he knows a woman’s mind completely, is highly mistaken. Highly mistaken. But, no, it’s not that. I can read your thoughts, but I can’t precisely read your mind per se. What I mean is, I can’t hear or see your memories or how you’re feeling, only what you’re thinking at any given moment. So, since you weren’t thinking about the camera in the hall at that moment, I didn’t know about them.”

  “Really?” Dr. Crangler mused aloud. Geoffrey knew what he was thinking; he was happy that at least something in his head was still secret.

  “I agree, Doc.” Geoffrey answered, though the doctor hadn’t said anything. “But let me tell you, this ain’t easy for me either. It’s exciting sometimes, but other than that, it’s scary being able to hear what other people are thinking. It’s savage what people think when they know that no one else is listening. I mean, really weird stuff. And I’ve got enough weird stuff of my own to try to sort through without other people’s thoughts filling my head. And then women’s minds…that’s a whole other story altogether.” Geoffrey was trailing off the subject again. “But, more importantly,” he resumed “I have another plan. I think we did pretty well with that little experiment of ours, with me projecting my thoughts into your head. I’m not willing to try that on anyone else, but I think we should practice it until we perfect it. If I can communicate with you telepathically, it won’t matter where we are, no one else will hear. I can inform you of everything that’s going on as it happens and nobody else, including the head guys, will ever find out. And just as importantly, I can tell you what Delilah is thinking and what will help us move things along.”

  The doctor agreed. “Speaking of which,” Geoffrey continued, “I think I’m gonna need a few things right away if we’re gonna keep the ole’ girl in there happy.”

  “And what might that be?” Dr. Crangler asked, skeptically.

  “Well, for now, a tutorial on how to do pedicures, manicures, and hairstyling, and then a few other things I’ll tell you I need when I find out myself.”

  As Geoffrey listened to the doctor’s thoughts, both he and the doctor looked confused. Geoffrey couldn’t understand what the doctor was thinking, precisely because the doctor didn’t rightly know himself. It would seem that he was flabbergasted by his patient’s latest and most outrageous request.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Geoffrey broke in, “Listen, you said that the hall cameras can’t pick up our voices, but they can still tape us, correct?” Dr. Crangler nodded. “All right, well maybe we should go ahead into my room and start with the practice. There’ll be no way for them to know what we’re doing, but I can see that you don’t think my request will be too sane, and if we stay out here talking about it much longer, it’s going to look suspicious. Once I can project my thoughts into your head more smoothly and establish communication that way, we won’t need to talk like this anymore. You can just think what you want me to hear, and I can just project what I want to say into your mind.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Crangler didn’t sound overly excited about the prospect “I guess that would be the best way.” The doctor gave the signal to the nearest hall
camera for Geoffrey’s door to be opened. The two entered and began the highly-unorthodox practice of soundless conversation. Meanwhile, topside, thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions more were losing their lives in writhing agony from which there was still no cure. At least half of the these numbers had only experienced life outside the womb for a few brief seconds, but for all involved, it was a slow, mercilessly excruciating demise. Many more would follow this burning path of distress and death, until two men, one a doctor and the other a captive patient, could figure out how to get a young woman, another captive patient with an insatiable thirst for freedom, pregnant with a child whose pure blood would provide the only possible chance of relief to a world in desperate need of it.

  No one knew what was taking place on the alien planet from which the hateful Virus originated. Was the alien super-consciousness filling its subordinate bodies with laughter at the sight of so much human carnage being wreaked without it having to do anything? Was it looking on unemotionally, as a human might after crushing an anthill and watching the swarming masses scamper to the surface, the greater number having been already smashed into oblivion, only to be likewise crushed themselves? Maybe the alien entity wasn’t watching at all, content to let The Virus do its job, leaving Earth in a matter of a few short years, as far as space time goes, completely devoid of all human life, and ready to be re-inhabited or whatever else the alien consciousness may have in mind. Nothing was for sure, and among the things that were not for sure, was if Geoffrey, in an effort to find companionship in this bleak situation, and at the same time, help thwart an alien assault, was inadvertently becoming more alien himself. If he could spread his telepathic powers on to the doctor, wouldn’t that bring the human race to within even closer similarity to the alien intelligence? Wouldn’t linking human minds in so intimate a fashion eventually yield something of a singular worldwide consciousness? These were not questions to be entertained just yet—the real aliens were the important thing now—but the day would come not too far in the future, when they would have to be answered. But again, not just yet.

  Chapter 24

  It took about three days of lengthy hours of practice for Geoffrey to become reasonably proficient in, and for Dr. Crangler to become reasonably relaxed with, communication that was completely devoid of audible words. Of course, the doctor couldn’t project his thoughts, but Geoffrey could read them, and project his own thoughts, so the communication was sealed. Now, the patient and doctor could talk without ever speaking a word and, especially as Geoffrey’s proficiency grew, not even be in the same room to do so. It was directly after this line of communication had been established that the doctor granted Geoffrey a television set and the tutorials he had requested earlier. According to Geoffrey, the best way to keep Delilah cooperative was to keep her happy. He explained to the doctor that the neurological pathways of Delilah’s brain were such that if she was not relevantly reminded of certain things, certain luxuries she had been surrounded by her entire life, then her brain would trigger stress hormones to be released cause her to be a certified pain in the ass for anyone who had to deal with her.

  When Dr. Crangler asked Geoffrey how he knew of these neurological pathways, considering that he had told the doctor that he simply heard thoughts, Geoffrey looked perturbed. After taking a moment to think, he explained that, as he had said, Delilah’s brain was drastically different from the doctor’s, any of his assistants’, or any man’s, for that matter. The best way Geoffrey knew to explain it was when he heard the doctor’s thoughts, he saw them as well. However, just as he didn’t hear them with his natural senses, he didn’t see them by that mechanism either. There was no way to explain what the sound of them or the sight of them was like, but when he saw words, the thoughts of a man’s mind, it was as if they were coming off of narrow highways and being continually fed to the mouth, where they would come out as audible speech or dissipate unspoken. Now, in Geoffrey’s experience, a man’s thoughts materialized from only a few narrow highway paths, but Delilah’s thoughts were fed into the forefront of her brain from many, many highway paths, at rapid speeds, and often resulted in massive traffic wrecks. However, when Geoffrey initially mentioned manicures and pedicures to her, and afterward, when they had discussed her life before her capture, it was as if these highway paths ran much more smoothly and without nearly as many jams and wrecks. Geoffrey imagined these many converging highways as neurological pathways, and if that was so, then Delilah’s thoughts and thus her cooperation, could only be gained by comforts with which she was familiar.

  Dr. Crangler nodded after his explanation. Interestingly enough, what you’ve just described in perfect detail is what we think of as the reward system. In most cases, it served as a survival function, during the release of dopamine and endorphins when doing necessary things such as eating, fighting, and exercising. It also breeds drug dependence because they trigger the rapid release of those pleasure chemicals. The thing about neurological pathways is that, like regular highways, they can have grooves worn into them from years of use and the brain permanently associates lasting pleasure with the repeated experience. Just like an addict’s brain, if Delilah isn’t getting those pleasure chemicals, she could be experiencing symptoms of withdrawal, which would explain why she is being…difficult.

  As Dr. Crangler looked on at his patient, still trying to keep his other thoughts shielded, he recalled Geoffrey’s suddenly expanded vocabulary, how he had taken to referring to him as ‘doc’ lately as if they were lifelong friends, his escalation from mind reader to mind speaker, and now this. Geoffrey’s brain was evolving somehow, he was becoming much smarter at a geometric rate. Given enough time, there was no telling what he’d be able to do or figure out…like how to escape. Still, this was a concern that could not be dealt with at the moment. Many such concerns ‘that could not be entertained at the moment,’ had been piling up as of late and even though Dr. Crangler felt deep in his gut that there was nothing he could do about it, he also knew that these concerns and questions would resurface eventually, and when they did, there would be hell to pay.

  Dr. Crangler and Geoffrey arrived at Geoffrey’s room door. The tutorials Geoffrey had requested were waiting for him. Dr. Crangler gestured to the hall camera and left his patient in his room. The conversation they had just had had been completely unspoken, so even if the hall cameras could record their voices, there were no voices to record. The only audible sound, in fact, was the sound of the doctor mumbling to himself as he trudged down the hall to his office. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, but he was musing aloud that time was more of the essence than it had ever been. It wouldn’t be long before Geoffrey was completely beyond his control, and with that revelation, he knew Delilah had to be impregnated now. The child she would bear was more important than anything else. Everything hinged on it. Dr. Crangler was not a praying man, he relied on scientific evidence, medical procedures, and his own extensive knowledge, but he was closer than he’d ever been in his life to pleading to the high heavens for help.

  The next day, he escorted Geoffrey to Delilah’s room just as before and retreated to one of his smaller offices to monitor them. Lieutenant Dan looked on as well, positioned in the same absurdly erect posture as before. Besides his initial greeting to the two patients, he didn’t open his mouth to speak a word the entire day. Meanwhile, Geoffrey cleaned, clipped, and filed the nails and cuticles on Delilah’s hands and feet. Dr. Crangler was not experienced with such pleasantries, but even a novice like he could tell Geoffrey had nearly mastered the tutorials that were given to him, even though he had only had a matter of hours to review and study them. Dr. Crangler managed to secure all the necessary tools for the job and Geoffrey now used those tools with such familiarity, moved from nail to nail and task to task with such smoothness, that it appeared as if he had been doing this for years. Geoffrey spent more than a few hours at his new job as Delilah reclined in her chair, obviously enjoying every moment of her indulgence. At Geoffrey’s sugge
stion, more lavish treatments followed and within a little over a week’s time, he had learned to style hair, perform skin treatments, give a full body massage, and nearly every other delicacy that would warm a woman’s heart. By the end of that week, Delilah looked nothing like the woman the doctor and his assistants had grown used to.

  She had never been ugly, but as she wasted away in this secret facility for months on end without the feminine luxuries and servitudes that filled the bulk of her days before her capture, she had lost much of her carefully-tended luster. Her skin had suffered from lack of natural sunlight, her figure, from lack of appetite, and her teeth color, from the lack of expensive whitening treatments. Now, she was had nearly returned to the old Delilah, the Delilah who knew nothing of hideous skin blemishes, or less-than-perfectly white teeth, or, God forbid, split ends. It would take a little more than a week to return her back to her former glory, but even now she was a sight to see. Her prominent cheek bones seemed to support her newly-sparkling eyes like lightly-bronzed pillars, her hair hung loftily, concealing much of her face, and showering the rest in thin, glistening black strains of elegance. Despite himself, Dr. Crangler was quite amazed as he looked on from his monitor. Even he was forced to admit that this young woman had real beauty.

  She even allowed Geoffrey to wax her long legs. Though her thighs and calves were in need of exercise and sunlight, they were still a comely sight, by far better than many other women’s legs. Dr. Crangler thought that he may’ve even seen the lieutenant general flinch as he caught a glimpse of her once Geoffrey had finished. There was still important work to be done, as the doctor implicitly reminded Geoffrey at the week’s end.