FicWad

Chapter 1
In the year 2085 A.D. an asteroid fell from the heavens onto the Arizona desert, bringing with it the near destruction of mankind. No one suspected, upon opening the asteroid, that there would be an alien virus lying dormant within its heart, waiting for a chance to be unleashed. It found it's resting place roughly fifty miles south of the grand canyons southernmost tip, and was picked up by officials from the United States government, then was sent to a nearby research facility for study.
The size of a small car, the space rock was soon cut open in order to reach the rich materials within. No one in the room suspected that anything could survive upon the entry into the ears atmosphere, and proceeded with the splitting of hard shell. There were seventeen scientist in all in the room where it was opened, twelve fell dead instantly. The other five followed by the end of the week.
The fist felt no pain, their brain, heart, and lungs simply stopped working, and all of the organ systems shut down. The five survivors weren't so lucky, put into quarantine; they were tested upon mercilessly until, just before their deaths, the source of the virus was determined as the space rock. A very volatile strain of alien virus, it could travel through infected mucus membrane, but that wasn't the only method of transportation. A slower working strain that was airborne, and seemed to thrive upon its new world, could survive in the environment around it for weeks.
When taken into the lungs the microscopic organisms would dig into the flesh, and true to any parasite would feed upon the host and reproduce until they ate their way out of the body. This was the fate of the five scientist that weren't part of the eighty percent of human beings that were deathly allergic to the virus.
The death of the host was not the end of the virus however, as the microorganisms could sustain themselves on the dead flesh of their host for weeks until eating their way completely out of the body and becoming airborne once again. The only way to stop the virus from spreading was by burning the bodies. The opening of the 'Doom Rock', as it was later known, seemed to create a rippling effect, and by some mistake the virus got outside of the quarantined zone.
Neither sunlight nor rain, sleet nor snow seemed to slow down or kill the virus, and it spread through the human world like juicy gossip. Even those who were asymptomatic until their sudden death passed it on to their spouse, or girlfriend or child with only a kiss. Earth and all life on the planet was almost instantly and totally devastated.
It seemed humans weren't the only ones affected, and when the first dog died suddenly while jogging with his master it was discovered that any warm-blooded creature could harbor the virus. Almost all of the endangered species were then extinct, and species that had once flourished were about to join them.
The level of civilization that the world had become accustomed to was now reduced to something resembling a prison sentence. Every baby born and every man woman and child were blood tested to determine who had the virus and who did not. Those who did were required to have an identification microchip implanted under their skin labeling them as 'infected'. Many billions of dollars went into the tracking and control of said infected.
These unfortunates were not allowed to have contact with any of those considered 'healthy', and families were torn apart, directed by who had the virus, and who didn't. Shunned by the healthy society, the infected were reduced to living in quarantine camps, or left to roam and die in the wastelands beyond healthy civilization. And so, a new cast was born on the earth.
Those labeled healthy were blood tested every month to make certain they had not had contact with the virus, or anyone deemed unclean. Births between 'healthys' were monitored very closely, and any newborn contaminated with the virus was disposed of quickly, and quietly. The United States, and other countries infected by the virus, was reduced to types of prison colonies, where more than half their society was shunned because of fear of infection.
Every city and town that wasn't completely destroyed by the plague had to create some sort of body disposal system, and some of the largest incinerators in the world were built. Truckloads of the dead were sent to these monoliths several times a day, and no matter where in the world you fled the smell of burning flesh lingered like the ghosts of the dead.
Great clouds of smoke could be seen hundreds of miles away, and the entire world was covered in ash. For years the sky was a dismal dark grey and the plants covering the earth began to die. Airborne machines were created with the sole purpose of cleaning the air of ash. They were about the size of a small motorcycle and sucked in the ash and other pollution from the air and filtered it. New companies had to be created to monitor and coordinate these machines.
There seemed no way to stop it, and eventually the death toll was reaching the billions. It was estimated that in only four years since the asteroid was split that nearly a fourth of the worlds population was destroyed with another fourth sick or already dying. Half of the world's people, animals, and plants, were almost completely wiped out.
Up to that point, the virus had no official name, but then Dr. Vyoma of Manchester England created a vaccination that slowed down the virus. It wasn't stopped, by any means, but the microorganisms were slowed down enough to give mankind a chance to fight back. The tiny aliens were Vyominids, and the virus, The Vyoma Virus. The great doctor, who's name meant 'of the skies', saved all mankind. However, her own case of the virus was too advanced for her to live and see her great work do some good.
And slowly, as the earth began to heal itself humanity began to think they would be all right. It was the single most devastation time in the history of the world; the death toll reached nearly four billion before the vaccine began to slow the rate of deaths. The virus quickly became known as the second coming of the Black Plague, and the name Stellar Virus was coined by a journalist in what remained of New York City. It stuck, and the bane of all life kind on Earth, had a name to call its destructor.

All the remaining leaders of the world banded together, and forgave each other their differences in light of shared plight, and a decision was made. If the Earth were no longer willing to support human life, then another planet, somewhere where the virus could not reach would have to be found.
Soon, the united leaders of the world decided together that it was time to join together all the people of the world and find a new home. The Space Ship Anima was built in Houston Texas, by specialists from every country, and one hundred uninfected, a few from every nation, every religion, creed, and way of life were selected to make the journey into the stars.
In the summer of 2100 A.D., the colonization of other worlds began. A breakthrough in space travel, that allowed the opening of artificial wormholes, made near instantaneous travel between the stars possible, and thus began the age of intergalactic space travel. It started with a small group of one hundred men and women, scientists, and doctors mostly with their families, rocketing off to a new and distant star named Avia, the first of the planets colonized. Everyone left on Earth held their breath for one long year, until, with a collective sigh, it was decided that the colonists of Avia would not only survive, but also thrive in their new environment. The first human baby was born on a planet other than Earth, and a second ship was sent. This time two hundred volunteers, of many nationalities, and with many different specializations, headed for Earth's new sister planet.
Life on Earth prospered from that point, and in the following years, a total of eleven planets were colonized, creating the Twelve United Planets, one for each of the first to die of the Virus, with Earth as the capital. The people, who knew it best regulated each planet and colony and the laws created amongst each world that best suit its inhabitants.

But, I am getting off topic. This is not the story I want to tell. It is merely background noise to the horror that came in the wake of the virus, and background necessary to understand some of my story. My tale is not as hopeless as the story of the Virus, but it is just as sinister, and it has to do with a mega conglomerate veiled with the guise of helping the world recover. It went by the innocent name of Drake Corp. and it was run by a different kind of virus, who's name was Syrian Drake.
Drake Corp. was created by the very young Dr. Syrian Drake with the original purpose of finding the cure to the Vyoma's Virus. Everyone on Earth knew about the Drake Corporation, and the great work that Dr. Syrian Drake did there. It was common knowledge within every household on any of the twelve United Planets.
Eventually Drake Corp. became so powerful that it was the most recognizable building on earth, and the only place on the planet that seemed immune to the devastation of Virus. Every new inoculation, drug, miracle surgery, and cure discovered since it's opening in late 2152 had come from the brains of its many scientists. Most other pharmaceutical companies couldn't keep up, and were forced to bankruptcy, or ruin, if they were located in a particularly devastated location. It was even considered that the United Earth should move it's headquarters there, but Syrian put his foot down, and would have no one else move in on his empire.
Syrian had old money, from ancestors dead hundreds of years, so deciding to start a business like Drake Corp. wasn't much of a problem financially. In fact, he didn't even request a government grant, but just bought two thousand acres of land from the Italian Government. The land he bought was just outside Rome, to the south, an area, that before the Virus was a bustling metropolis.
Soon after it's opening in 2152, there was a branch of Drake Corp. on every planet, in every colony. Like tentacles spreading across the galaxy, Syrian had his fingers in every aspect of human life. During every TV. interview, and every press conference, Syrian seemed like a messiah to the sick and dying. Everyone infected knew they could turn to kind and gentle Syrian Drake for help. He offered cheap, medical attention to everyone, and free inoculations to the Stellar Virus, with no apparent catch.
What the people didn't realize was that almost all of the money they gave to Drake Corp. went to funding not only new drugs and cures and the end of the Stellar Virus, but also to other, more sinister science experiments. Genetic engineering had it's home in Syrian's labs, and most to the test subjects were human. Few people thought badly of Syrian, and those who did were considered crazy, or were outcasts of society, labeled as the 'unclean'. No one really believed the occasional drunk who claimed that Drake Corp. had kidnapped their daughter, or mother, or other relative, and most of the alleged abductees were infected anyway.
But if Dr. Drake was a messiah then Drake Corp. and his many laboratories was Mecca for any medical student struggling to find a job, and keep up with school at the same time. I was one of those students. Before I knew Dr. Drake, and had seen what he was capable of, I yearned for nothing more than to be accepted into his great Empire.
I, like everyone else in my class, submitted my application for any open position, just to get a foot in the door, but I, just like everyone else, was rejected. At least at first.
But, perhaps I should introduce myself, if we are going to go into the story of my life. My name is Gabriel DeAngelo; I was born in New York City, in the year 2164A.D. I was one of the ones lucky enough to be born healthy. Both my parents were renowned doctors and were allowed to have the allotted one child per healthy married couple. My heritage isn't really important though, only my story, and how I came to be on the payroll of Syrian Drake and Drake Corp.
It was my third year in college, NYU, and I was through with my basic courses, and finally on my way to a doctorate. I was starting down the long and difficult road of becoming a neurosurgeon. There were very few doctors of any kind left after the virus decimated human kind, especially doctors with specialist degrees. There were only fourteen neurosurgeons left on the entire twelve planets, and all of them were employed at one of the Drake Corp. branches. I knew my choice would eventually pay off, and I would have the chance to help millions, but it also put me in the spotlight and gave me a better chance of being selected to attend Drake University.
I wasn't disheartened when I was rejected at first. Most of the greatest scientists Drake Corp. ever had were also rejected at first. It also wasn't uncommon for Syrian Drake himself to visit the medical schools when he found the time, to scout out potential geniuses. Syrian's hand picked few were always considered the best, and my hero, the great research scientist Dr. Malachi was one of those hand chosen few.
Most of his visits were unannounced, but occasionally he made appointments with the Dean of the school. He had only visited NYU twice in the past decade, so I wasn't really expecting to get into The Pit by way of one of Syrian's rare visits. As it turned out, that was exactly how I came to live and work at Drake Corp.
It was a normal day, for the most part. I came from old money too, not nearly as grand as Syrian had, but both of my parents were doctors, as I have mentioned. This meant I was spared the frustration of roommates, and had my own apartment close to campus.
I woke up, went through the usual morning rituals, and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. I remember looking in the mirror that morning, and seeing how tired I looked. My eyes are pale blue, though a little red from lack of sleep, and my shoulder length hair is gray, even though I was only twenty-one at the time, and most people have referred to me as handsome, so I didn't think I was horrible looking, the exception being that morning, and just rolling out of bed.
My stomach had been upset the night before, bad Thai food, and a restless night showed in my eyes, and the inner elbow of my right arm ached where I gave blood a few days before. It was my fist time giving blood since I had just turned twenty-one, and I planned on giving as often as I could from that point on. Some poor Virus patient could definitely use my universal O negative blood. However badly I felt though, it would have been harder to miss school for the day, so I grabbed my books, locked up, and headed out.
It was a nice day, perfect blue sky, and the wind hummed with an uncommonly warm, fresh breeze. It was Friday, meaning by four p.m. I was out of school for two days, and I had plans to go out with some friends to a local bar. Sunday afternoon, if it was still nice, I planned on making the thirty minute drive to see my parents for a couple of hours.
Most of the time I walked to the campus, except in extreme cold, and my short walk always took me past a small, outdoors, café. One of the few in the city that wasn't deserted or run down. The kind with large umbrella's and matching chairs where people could sit and chat. Normally, I just walked past without a glance to the people eating there, but that day, as I walked by, there was a man in obvious distress.
He was dressed in a nice suit, probably stopped off for a bite to eat on his way to work, and his hair was mousy brown. Though his face was an unsettling shade of blue. He was choking on something, and the other café patrons around him were of no help, slamming him on the back, or running around terrified.
"Call an ambulance, hurry!" I shouted to anyone who would listen, and without thinking, dropped the backpack with my books in it and hurtled a couple of chairs to reach the man.
Someone pulled out their phone, and I was barely aware of a video screen going up, showing the paramedics video of what was happening. I grabbed the man from behind, and began the Heimlich. He had obviously been deprived of air so long though, that I didn't know what good I could do.
After precious seconds passed with no results, the man began to go limp in my arms. He was dying. For a moment my mind went blank. I wasn't even a doctor yet, how could I loose my first patient. I couldn't just let him die.
"Bring me a knife!" I ordered, not really sure what I was going to do yet. Seconds later the metal handle of a knife was pressed into my hand. I turned slightly and saw it was a waiter that had handed it to me. He had a ballpoint pen in his pocket, I grabbed it and twisted the end off with my teeth. By removing the ink cartridge inside I had a sort of makeshift tracheal tube.
"Help me hold him!" even though I knew there wasn't much fight left in the man. Several people grabbed onto his shoulders though as I preformed rough surgery.
A small slit through the esophagus, just under the Adam's apple opened his airway. I forced the barrel of the pen into the small hole, and a great rattling sound could be heard as a rush of air entered the man's dying lungs.
I took a ragged breath of my own, not realizing I had been holding my breath. Nor did I notice the sweat running down my face. Everyone around me began to cheer, and the waiter even clapped me on the back. I didn't even have time to take it all in before the paramedics showed up to take the unknown man to the hospital.
"Wow, you saved his life." The waiter breathed, as if I were some sort of miracle worker.
I nodded, "You would have too if you'd known what to do." I replied and ran my hand over my face to clean off some of the sweat.
"Gee, I don't know if I would have been able to think that fast." he smiled at me, and walked off to talk to the cop who had showed up.
They were very interested in me too, and how I knew to do such a thing. The fact I was in medical school seemed to ease their minds, and a few more questions left me free to think about what had happened. It was a good feeling, saving that man's life, even though I never found out his name. It gave me assurance that what I was doing, and all of the hours I had put into my school so far had not gone to waste.
I went back to by backpack, thrown in the street, and gathered it. I didn't even notice the man standing behind me.
"That was pretty spectacular.," he said, and I jumped. His voice was deep, with a strong British accent.
I stood up and turned to face whoever it was, and was startled to recognize a familiar face. He looked just like he was supposed to. Immaculately dressed in Armani, one of the only high fashion companies not devastated with the economy, it was gray pinstripes, and he wore a silken blue tie. His hair was black, graying at the temples, and his eyes were a depthless gray. Dr. Drake's smile was genuine, and right then I wouldn't have believed anyone had they told me he was a madman.
"Dr. Drake, thank you." I stammered, not knowing how else to respond, "That, coming from you is a true honor sir."
He shook my hand, and his grip was strong, "None of that 'sir' now. Syrian is fine." he said and rested his arm on my shoulders, encouraging me to walk with him towards the campus, "You go to NYU, your name wouldn't happen to be Gabriel DeAngelo would it?" he asked.
"Oh, yes si...Syrian." I corrected myself bewildered that he would know my name, "Pre-med right now. A doctorate in neurosurgery is my intended goal, but if I may ask..."
"How did I know your name?" he finished for me and he paused for a moment as if thinking quickly, "I saw the last test results for the standard I.q. test, you scored very high. No wonder you're going into brain surgery. That's a pretty noble profession. Did you know I have all fourteen of the world's neurosurgeons on my staff around the Twelve Worlds?"
"Yes, actually. I did my entrance exam thesis on Dr. Malachi, his work on synapse firing was incredible."
Syrian stopped suddenly, and I followed suit, and turned to face him. He studied me for a long moment, those deep gray eyes swirling with though, and a playful smile danced on his lips, "Right, well, Gabriel, how would you like to meet Dr. Malachi. In fact, how would you like to get your doctorate at Drake University, and work for me? It means you would have to move to Italy of course, but I could really use someone like you. Young and quick thinking. All of my other boring old scientists like to think things through. I would like to see what someone as intelligent, young, and as sharp as you could do for Drake Corp, and the world."
I was completely dumbfounded. Here, my wildest dreams were coming true and I couldn't think of a single response. It was just too fast. I was barely even awake, and already I had slit a mans throat open to save his life, and Syrian Drake was asking me to pursue my dream career.
"Absolutely." I said, after a few seconds floundering in my own thoughts.
"There it is again, that quick thinking. I think you shall become infamous for that. You will do great at Drake Corp." he said with a grand smile, "Things will move rather quickly from here. I will notify your school of your transfer, and give you a couple of days to say your good-byes. Then I will send you the teleport coordinates. Unless you disapprove, I say we should go ahead and start you Monday with the normal workforce. That gives you the weekend."
Only three days to say good-bye to my family, my friends, my entire life that I had built. For all scientists, and doctors working at Drake Corp. were permanent residents there, and most of them were so busy making medical history that their families never saw them again.
"Monday would be great." I replied and returned Syrian's charming smile.