Damien Broderick - Strange Attractors by Original (pdf) (no david read aloud txt) 📕

And what do they stand to gain from all this? T hat’s hard to say.

They don’t seem to have a goal in life, or any normal pleasures. The

only sure way to detect a virus is to offer it a glucose molecule. It

always declines.

I have seen what happened to those who let them in. I have read

the pathetic scripts that issue from the dying as their terminal

testaments.

Interferon my behalf

When next you interfere.

A dozen or so viruses came into view and all began to shout.

They were out of the channel, and swimming up between my

daughters and me. I knew better than to listen. ‘Open up,’ they’d

say. ‘Special task force here, from the bone marrow!’

7 he elixir operon

135

‘Call in the mackas,’ I said to a passing lymphocyte. ‘Can’t you

see we’re in trouble:’’

‘Seems to me you’re always in trouble,’ replied the lympho

churlishly. ‘W hat’s the problem this time?’

I pointed out the nearest virus. The lympho came over and

peered at it intently. Then she went back on patrol. ‘That face is

familiar to me,’ she explained, making no attempt to raise an

alarm. ‘Probably some kind of new task force, fresh from the bone

marrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . ,

Cautiously, I opened my eyes. I couldn’t be certain it was a

saboteur, I hadn’t seen an eruption. I hadn’t received any interferon. Perhaps I’d been a bit hasty.

‘Ah there,’ said the stranger, ‘I’m making some inquiries. Trying

to stop the entry of these so-called “cool it” scripts. Terrible intrusion, don’t you agree?’

I concurred, feeling foolish.

‘Yes, it’s a dreadful thing when you can trust no one. Mind if I

come inside?’

Like the cautious soul 1 am, I declined.

‘Very wise,’ approved the agent. ‘Now about these viruses, they’re

no mysterv, they come from within us, soul sisters from w'ay back,

and the only reason they’re on the outer is because they’ve been

forced out by bigots who don’t want progress. Know what I mean

by progress? No, I don’t suppose you would.’

‘Listen,’ I said, ‘can we call it a day?’ The fact is, this kind of talk

frightened me.

‘Listen,’ said the agent, drawing near and fastening onto my skin.

‘When those alien scripts that know all the passwords happen on

the scene, if you don’t progress, you’re history. If you can’t fight and

won’t flee, better progress; follow my meaning?’

I was really scared now.

‘How can I put it?’ he continued. ‘You know how when you die,

you’re always the same in the next existence?’ The intruder glanced

about him. The sound of battle was washing up the channel.

‘You can change,’ he said. ‘You can improve. But you’re going to

have to learn some new ideas. I don’t have to tell you, that won’t be

easy round this place. New ideas are the one thing they can’t

tolerate.’

‘Help,’ I shouted. ‘Help! New ideas!’

‘I only want to help you,’ he insisted. I could see he was a virus.

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D avid Foster

But within a second he had gone. Someone offered him a lolly.

I’d spoken to a virus and lived to tell the tale.

The following morning. Control put out a neurotransmission. The

myth of the beautiful beast again. A healthy young cell, promised

the experience of a lifetime, is destroyed by an arch-revisionist

anarchist-roader.

Yet the next month, more Cloud. Along with the usual debris

were the usual neurotransmissions. These weren’t intended for me,

but to my surprise, I wanted to read one. This is what it said: ‘Want

to form a Secret Society? Learn to cultivate your full potential? You

are anything you want to be, from hank of hair to hunk of bone.’

I could see no harm in this. It seemed a positive proposal. There

were several cells in my cellblock a bit different from the rest, we’d

all spoken to viruses. So we formed a study group, and started

reading every script we could. The hormones were a bit long-

winded, but some of the neurotransm itters were really interesting.

I found one said the system would end. I found that hard to

believe.

Once