Paranoia (x-files inspired)

A silhouette was permanently burned into his eyelids; the mindless procedures his body performed did nothing to deter his mind from pushing images of disaster-struck areas to the front of his consciousness. The scene in its entirety was something that would soon be streamed live to television sets all around the world, the unemployed masses would have a reason to let a little hope feel them and housewives everywhere would be horrified to see the meager amounts of food allotted to each victim.

To them the process of weighing each corpse-like body, handing out a care package and the pristine white tents set up around the catastrophe was something to wipe away the guilt they felt as humanity and instead mutter something about international and interracial selflessness. The reporter-woman, looking a little disheveled from the humid climate, tried to talk to some of the marines stationed around the area but monosyllabic answers were common. It was a sight to see the first-world standing next to the third, nonetheless our intrepid correspondent failed to introduce the viewers to the hypodermic which quite honestly was the only reason for the burly men crowding out the victims.

September 1923 the Kantō-region of Japan was struck by a massive earthquake weeding out an estimated 142 800 of which 40 000 weren’t confirmed deaths, only missing. Early on in 1924 the first experimental cure for tetanus saw usage in the military.

No one notices a few extra bodies, autopsies are redundant. Earthquakes or floods don’t leave any specific calling-cards, an infinite amount of scenarios present themselves. “Lt. John” whom we met earlier wasn’t merely performing a routine examination, he was scrutinizing subjects. Even from a distance it was easy to spot a potential candidate. Sturdier, bulkier men and women were favored for their endurance, checking in on their condition was easier as they carried out the responsibility of  fetching supplies for entire families and wouldn’t mind a few extra morsels in exchange for common tests. Convincing them to be injected was the only real difficulty, but even that was solved with some individual-specific bribing.

Does he ever feel remorse while injecting the hopes and sometimes random guesses of scientists into a body that has already experienced misfortune? Or failing that, think about what might happen if the cure became a curse creating a media frenzy or quiet cataclysm? Maybe John just wants to know the truth; maybe he doesn’t want to be ignorant, rather looking into the darkness than blindly accepting the light.

Of course no one is all-knowing but some are closer than others, our other John is sitting behind a desk that could have come from any office.  Squinting at a screen and barely making out a chart in the white hot sunlight, he turns to jot down his findings in a scrawled handwriting. The twisting line and numeral combination made John conclude that number seven was in a contemplative mood and trying hard not to lash out at the woman interrupting his only lunch-break. Due to actual frustration or some sort of mechanical failure in the small chip remains to be seen.

The radiation levels would be tested soon enough and should questions be raised as to why, malaria was prevalent in the area and checks were never refused. Rumors  had begun to spread that the sickly would be used as extra lab-rats. The paranoia which reigned among the soldiers was enough to keep themselves in peak shape.

Ignorance is bliss and knowledge is power but you don’t want to be caught in the middle.