Memory transcription subject: Daniel Stat, human virologist
Date [Standardized human time]: August 11th, 2148
[Day 4]
“Danny, the first few samples have come in,” Silvon chirped, stepping into the lab and setting down a few orange vials.
“Excellent!” I said, finalizing my notes on venlil skin cells undergoing mitosis. I slipped the slide into the biowaste bin and took one of the vials from the counter. The label read SF-148-1A.
I applied a new pair of gloves and made sure my face mask was well tightened, then poured the sample onto a new slide and slid it under the microscope. I spied several ovular venlil blood cells, immediately noticing a lack of red blood, the venlil’s equivalent to human white blood cells.
I moved around the scope, plenty of rhinoviruses seemed to be mixed into the blood and still saw no sign of an immune system at work.
“Silvon,” I called and stepped back from the microscope.
“Yes?” She asked.
I motioned for her to take a look. “I’m not seeing any red cells here, venlil immune systems are better than ours, there should be an abundance.”
She shook her head, staring at the specimen. “Other people are looking at these samples too, they say the virus targets the red blood cells, wiping them out almost immediately. That’s why the symptoms are so quick to show,” she explained.
“Do we have any samples of just immune cells?” I asked. She nodded and left the room for a moment, returning with a red-orange vial and an eyedropper.
I took the dropper and peered into the scope as I added the immune cells to the slide. Immediately, the rhinovirus took action, pumping the immune cells full of their own DNA and making the blood self-destruct.
“The red cells don’t even recognize the viruses as viruses, they just… let it happen,” I murmured. I applied another drop and let Silvon watch the microscopic carnage unfold while I wrote down the information in my notes.
“I’ll get a full report typed up once I get through these other vials, let’s hope the SHO can glean something useful from it,” I said.
“So, does humanity have a cure for the virus yet?” Silvon asked hopefully.
“No, it’s never been a big enough problem to warrant one. We might be able to synthesize a vaccine, but that’s a long way away,” I said, shaking my head.
“But if- if we can’t do anything about it…” she nibbled anxiously at one of her claws.
“More people will die,” I concluded.
~~~
Memory transcription subject: Governor Maulo of the Venlil Republic
Date [Standardized human time]: August 11th, 2148
[Day 4]
“A stampede already broke out on the south side of the city, injuring 43 and killing 12,” Servaen explained. “And on the East, in the most densely human-populated sectors, there’s been a slight rise in xenophobic violence.”
“A slight?” I asked, “How much of an increase?”
“Well, attacks on humans have been on a pretty stable decline since the war ended, last cycle we were down to only a handful of instances, and until the other paw, this cycle only saw 7 maulings and 2 murders,” he gesticulated while a spoke, the mannerism were an endearing quirk. “Last night, there was a reported shooting, some podcaster online made a call to arms that’s being looked into by law enforcement. In total, there were 6 humans shot, we believe most of them by one person, preying on inebriated people walking alone during the storm.”
“Is this that Skalgan True guy?” I asked, Servaen nodded. I’d had past experiences with that nutcase. He’d been in and out of jail for his blatant xenophobic standings, and being a federation sympathizer to boot. His latest stint was harassing a mixed-species couple, human and yotul.
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“If it weren’t a violation of free speech, I’d have his ass scrubbed from the internet,” I grumbled. “What’s the status of the flu?”
“Estimated 28,000 based on the increase we discussed yesterday, but some clinics in Ransu are claiming the numbers might be as high as even 1% per paw.”
"And how many dead so far?" I asked. Servaen paused for a second, then muttered, "2,362."
"Stars! That's far worse than your initial estimate! Are the quarantine protocols being followed?" I pressed.
"By some people, sure, but some are taking to the streets because they can't leave to see family and friends. We've blocked all major roadways, and we're working on securing a full perimeter." Servaen answered, flicking a tuft of fur from his green eyes. "The UN has been aiding our efforts, their top scientists are looking for potential treatments."
~~~
Memory transcription subject: Murve, venlil baker
Date [Standardized human time]: August 11th, 2148
[Day 4]
I carried a plate of steamed veggies upstairs to my son's room. He'd been having a hard time keeping solid food down, the doctors said he had the Skalgan Flu, whatever that meant.
I approached his door, adorned with comedic 'keep out' signs, and gently knocked, hoping his headache had gone down some. I got no response, figured he was asleep, and slowly creaked open the door.
The light of the hallway illuminated the dark room, his blinds were shuttered and tissues were scattered about, some a deep orange.
"Launo?" I whispered. The light hit his bed, I could see his silhouette beneath a mound of blankets.
I stepped inside. "Launo, son, I brought you dinner." He didn't stir. I cleared my throat, loud enough to normally warrant some reaction. Nothing.
Worry prickled through me, making my fur stand on end. "Launo, are you okay, son?" I pulled back the blanket a little and put a hand on his still head.
Ice cold.
"LAUNO!" I yelled, flipping his body around and pulling him up by the shoulders. He wasn't breathing, his face and pillow were soaked in blood. I pushed on his chest and attempted mouth-to-mouth, but it was in vain.
"Launo," I sobbed, my voice breaking as I gripped my son's corpse tight. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
~~~
I buried the boy myself. It was our family tradition, we'd stroll a little ways into the woods, find a good spot, bury our dead, and plant a tree atop them. I found a good spot, the center of a clearing, a perfect perpetual sunset for him to spend eternity enjoying.
Launo joined his mother in the dirt, I shouldn’t have outlived him, he was only 11. The rest of that paw, I couldn't even open the bakery. It was a family business, and Launo loved it so much.
When I got home, dirt still caking my claws, all I did was cry. I cried and cried, then began to cough.
I hacked into my elbow, it came away orange. Stars. With my only son gone, the last of my family, who would bury me?
~~~
Memory transcription subject: Weitun, venlil conspiracist
Date [Standardized human time]: August 11th, 2148
[Day 4]
I ended the podcast recording and began taking apart all my audio equipment. Another successful day getting the truth out to the masses! Today’s guest, a venlil named Seava, who had a particularly patchy face and bits of black in his gray fur, reached out a paw.
“Thanks for uh, ‘aving me on, Weitun. I been a big fan for ah long, long time,” he muttered. He used his free hand to drink from a flask tucked in his coat pocket. I considered not airing the latest episode. There was some good stuff, the tangent he went on about the governor being a Dominion puppet or the benefits we’ve seen from the farsul’s gene edits, but then I considered the rest of our exchange, a ranty dialogue that was mostly slurring and mumbling.
“Always glad to hear it, Seava. I appreciate your contributions to the podcast,” I said, as all business as I could. His grip was really tight, almost crushing my paw.
“Yuh know, that speaker ya had on yesterday?” he hiccupped, “It had me real inspired, real good stuff.”
“Inspired?” I asked, breaking out of his grip and lightly rubbing my wrist. “What do you mean?” I cocked my head.
Seava laughed heartily and slipped his flask back inside his coat. Then, slowly, withdrew just the grip of a handgun. There were tallies carved into it, just four.
“Is that… a gun?” I asked, my voice a hushed whisper. He nodded his head, then grinned with yellowed teeth from tens of cycles of drinking.
He ran a claw along the tallies, “These were preddies,” he punctuated with laughter-turned coughs. “They’ve ruined our planet, and our government, so I made sure they won’t ruin our city,” he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Stars…” I mumbled, “Humans? You’ve been killing them?” He smiled and nodded again.
“Fuck yeah, brother!” I cheered, patting his shoulder with fervor, “Put that filth in its place!” We shook hands again, this time I matched his grip, and fully decided to air this episode. The man’s a damned hero! Risking his neck like that for the good of the people!
He left the studio, stumbling along probably to the nearest bar, while I prepped and edited the new episode. I cut out the segments where he was the least lucid, and everything was just about all set for release. I checked the statistics of the last episode, a notable boom in listeners! Then I hit the upload button, imagining the fortune I’ll make off revenue.
Once the processing was done, I kicked back in my chair, satisfied with a hard day’s work. As I relaxed, I began to cough a little, then a lot. I hacked and convulsed forward, spraying the desk and holo screen in blood. “Oh Stars.”
Those predators were silencing me.