The minutes dragged on in the lab building, the heavy silence of the sterilized corridors broken only by the click-clack of the keys and the subdued buzz of fluorescent lights. Kyle rubbed his eyes, fatigue creeping into his muscles as he typed up the report. The necessity of forwarding the information to the Director was agonizing, and the ever-increasing tensions between the research groups were not helping. But now Kyle had to focus—he had to get the strongest evidence he could, even though the truth was nowhere near resolved.
The three clusters on the other side of the room, each with some hypothesis about the virus, remained debating. Dr. McAllister's group, dedicated to the prion hypothesis, made their case with evidence for how the virus created neurological degeneration. Dr. Yuan's group, advocating parasitic theory, put forward evidence that indicated association with abnormal inflammation of the hypothalamus. Subsequently, Dr. Hastings's group had their viral mash-up hypothesis whereby the virus was argued to be an amalgam of rabies, measles, and foot-and-mouth, each team presenting evidence which would exculpate its cause.
Kyle felt like he was being sandwiched in the middle of some political war, both sides desiring to be vindicated. And yet they were all circumventing the same conclusion: the virus was propagating too quickly to be sufficiently comprehended. They had no time to spare.
Lastly, after much deliberation, the factions agreed on a report, but with a sense of reluctance. The findings were clear, but not conclusive. Each theory had a degree of likelihood:
McAllister's prion theory was scored at 45%, on the basis of the virulent neurodegeneration they had observed in infected subjects.
Yuan's parasitic hypothesis was at 35%, referring to the presence of parasitic organisms in the infected brain tissue.
Hastings's viral combination hypothesis, the least likely, received 20%, though still irresistibly convincing.
Despite all the differences among the groups, there was an additional folder—a report of all the shared data points among the three theories. This report, connecting the dots from each group's research, showed that though the cause of the infection remained unknown, there were unmistakable similarities: high rate of mutation, increased modes of transmission, and an abundance of behavioral and physiological changes.
Kyle's fingers hovering over the keyboard as he drafted an overview of the most important observations: The virus was mutating at an accelerated rate, becoming more contagious with every host. The initial stage of infection, once considered to be variable, now seemed to be largely dependent on where the bite or viral load had taken place. The infected, who had been exposed to higher concentrations of the virus—such as bites or bodily fluids—reported an incubation period of 7 to 14 days. Sam, having been exposed for 16 days, had lasted longest without succumbing to total infection, likely due to her immunity.
This resistance, however, was not complication-free. The theory went that Sam, although not completely immune, was a "resistant carrier"—i.e., she may possibly be carrying and transmitting the virus although currently she is symptom-free.
Kyle breathed deeply as he sent the report to the Director. He was not pleased. It was too incomplete. There was no clear-cut solution. But the truth was that they had run out of time. Every minute that went by, the virus mutated, and with it, so did the stakes.
Dr. Hastings's Cryptic Message
Meanwhile, in a cramped, dimly lit office on the second floor of the complex, Dr. Hastings sat at her desk, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she wrote a message. Her brow furrowed, her eyes darting around the room as if to make sure that she wasn't being watched.
She had been composing her own report on the virus for days, digging deeper than anyone else had been willing to go. And the deeper she dug, the more one thing became excruciatingly clear: the virus wasn't just learning to evolve around the human immune system—it was becoming intelligent. Each new outbreak seemed to be more effective at spreading and less predictable.
Her fellow workers remained none the wiser to what she'd learned, but Hastings was not about to share this with them. She needed to ensure that the message was given to someone who could act swiftly—someone who would understand the gravity of what she'd learned.
Looking around the office for a final time, she clicked on the "send" button.
Subject: Urgent: Transmission Dynamics & Adaptation of Virus
Every viral infection can adapt better in the human immune system, bringing forth new and improved means of transmission. Every successive generation develops an increased viral load, significantly shortening the period of infection. This, thus, lowers the exposure-symptoms window duration.
What is increasingly concerning, though, is the increasing efficacy of the virus to breach human immunity. That such a high mutation rate is a sign that the virus may, with every transmission, develop more potent and more deadly strains—strains that may establish faster infection rates, greater infectiousness, and resistance to the human body's natural defenses.
To date, resistant patients, including Sam, have not shown any sign of passing the virus. However, there is a disturbing risk: they may be developing an "immunity" to the virus and thus become carriers with no telltale symptoms. Until we can investigate further, we have no way of knowing if Sam, for example, would become infectious, even though she is resistant.
She pressed the "send" button and cleaned her inbox in an instant, so that there would be no trace of the message still there. She sent it to a secure off-site email address—one that no one at the facility could track. Her mind was racing as she leaned back in her chair, aware that the risk of the discovery she had made was far higher than anyone had ever realized. If the virus continued to adapt this quickly, they were facing a much more complex, and potentially catastrophic, future.
Waiting in the dark for her next move, Dr. Hastings couldn't help but feel guilty about what she'd just done. She'd sent the message without authorization, without consulting her team, without even informing Kyle. She was alone now.
The email was the last missing piece. The Director, the research team—none of them were ready for the truth. And the truth was that the virus was mutating faster than anyone could have imagined, and it had acquired a mechanism to advance beyond the confines of the human immune system.