Mice Shockers

A Perfect Time

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Marshall Ornston didn't hear the 'goodbye, sir' or the sharp click of a phone hanging up that sounded through the receiver. He was looking but didn't see the familiar setting of black tables, white walls, glass containers in all sizes and shapes (a few of which, he had altered himself late at night over small Bunsen burners, wearing thick gloves and feeling very much like an artist) or even the protruding green eyes that seemed to be stripping off his corneas, his pupils, boring into his head to take out the information that was locked inside. If he had noticed, he would've been quick to resent his head being mentally dissected.

"Well?" asked the container of the eyes urgently, and then, without waiting for a reply, she clapped her hands together twice, rapidly, and repeated the question.

It was pointless to hide the truth, he knew. The report would be down in a few hours and she would look it over thoroughly. It would be better to tell her. She would explode in happiness, realize the new meaning and importance that her life would instantly take on and spend a few hours contemplating the enormous changes that would sweep over her like a tidal wave over a shore town. Then she would be dead.

A computerized voice began speaking through the receiver, "If you would like to make a phone call, please hang up and—" He hung up the phone and looked into his partner's eyes without speaking for another second until she leaned forward on her toes as if the distance between them was the primary factor preventing him from speaking. She clapped her hands together, twice, rapidly.

"Success," he said, betraying no emotion. Melissa Gerthardt's exhale seemed to quiver like the sound of a violin the first time a child attempts to play it. There were screams, laughs, even tears, all interspersed with moments in which she would stand still holding her mouth with both hands, her voice coming in muffled whispers, "God... oh God... we've really done it. Do you know what this... means... any idea...?" She acted as if the significance of the moment had eluded Marshall.

Four years of research and testing, frustration and disappointment, had reached its end. Marshall Ornston and Melissa Gerhardt had discovered the cure for a sexually transmitted disease that had been leaving men and women sterile for the past five or six years. The 'barren plague', as it was coined by an over-zealous preacher, was growing exponentially and was now reaching into the hundreds of thousands. The symptoms of the disease were several months of nausea and vomiting coupled with intense pain in the genitalia described predominantly as 'an intense heating sensation.' Initially, it was hoped that this disease could be transmitted to convicted rapists and child molesters to check their sexual appetites. It was even rumored, though never openly stated, that this 'weapon' could solve the problem of those 'deviant homosexuals.' It was therefore quite a blow to prison officials and homophobes when research revealed that after the months of sickness passed in which the victim was ultimately sterilized, he resumed a perfectly normal life-style including, in most cases, an actual increase in sexual drive. Moreover, there was now the luxury of sex without fear of pregnancy as an after-effect. It was considered both God's curse against the promiscuous and the Devil's gift to the hedonist.

Marshall hugged Melissa, though in the four years he had worked side by side with her, he had never done so before. It seemed the appropriate thing to do. Also, spontaneous affection would actually quell suspicions, not that there could possibly be any, he thought. Intimacy is a wonderful mask for ill will.

When the report came, Melissa looked it over thoroughly and Marshall retired to his office, saying with an exaggerated smile, a not too exaggerated smile, "I trust it will all be in order. If you see even the slightest discrepancy, show me immediately, of course. And Melissa... congratulations." She smiled broadly like she had just acquired a new set of teeth.