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“The team explained the concept of a mixer to me,” he said. “It would allow me to meet many people at once in a very short time. It would also allow me to observe how they behave around me in a group setting.”
Waurlyn tapped the table for a moment. “I have several concerns with that approach. Mixers are usually social events where beverages and food are consumed. Due to our limited resources and rationing, I’m afraid providing anything along those lines in a social setting would give the impression that we are hoarding food while people are eating lighter than they would like. And that kind of display might encourage more people to sign up for that benefit alone rather than a real interest to cohabitate.”
I knew she wasn’t wrong. We’d witnessed the volatility of the crowd, and I didn’t think it would take much to spark a riot.
“What if it was more like one of our training days but less intense and more instructional?” I asked.
Waurlyn was already nodding. “That could work. Introduce Molev, explain in a non-graphic way what it’s like outside the barrier, and perhaps show them a few of the basic moves Molev’s been teaching you to help save your lives. It’s a win all around. They’re learning something practical, and Molev can see firsthand if they’re willing to work with one of his kind. And to be frank, anyone with aptitude who isn’t interested in going with you could be trained to help replace the personnel we’re losing.
“How soon can we start?” she asked.
“How soon can you get the first one hundred people here?” I asked.
“Tomorrow.”
Molev grunted his agreement. “Start with the ones who volunteered first and work your way down. I will interview them all. Can we provide food and housing to each group for two days?”
“We should be able to manage that.”
“Good. I will speak with the new trial volunteer now. What is his name?”
“Michael,” she said, standing.
Michael, a middle-aged man of mixed descent, paused the treadmill when Molev entered the room.
“I saw you that first day at the evac site,” he said, watching Molev warily. “You jumped onto that building like it was nothing.”
“To me, it is nothing,” Molev said. “Did they tell you what happened to the prior volunteers?”
Michael nodded. “They all died. Sara, the woman before me, lasted the longest but still begged for her death at the end. They’ve been honest about everything, but I appreciate that you’re doing the same.” He sighed. “Do you think there’s any chance these vaccines will ever work on a human?”
“Yes,” Molev said without hesitation.
“Then here’s to hoping my shot’s the winner. I wouldn’t mind an increased vertical jump as a side effect.”
The way the doctor looked down at her computer and Waurlyn’s amused smile didn’t comfort me.
“I will return later,” Molev said, extending his hand to Michael. “Your contribution to finding a cure will not be forgotten.”
Michael solemnly accepted Molev’s handshake then returned to his run.
I hated the sadness I felt and waited until we were in the hallway with Waurlyn to voice my thoughts.
“They haven’t isolated anything, have they?”
“Molev is something the team of medical professionals has never seen before. They are using human DNA as a codex to interpret his DNA and trying to isolate what is in an undead’s saliva that is causing the mutation. It involves unraveling layers upon layers. Yes, they’ve isolated some things. But as you’re well aware, they haven’t yet identified the correct combination of what they are isolating in both Molev’s and an undead’s samples. It’s a frustrating process costing us more than Michael’s life. Three additional bases have gone dark since we last spoke.”
“I would like to return to my people,” Molev said without preamble.
I wanted to groan. Instead, I turned to look at Waurlyn, who’d stopped dead in the hallway to stare at Molev. He had the gall to smile at her, and it was the same ‘isn’t he funny smile’ she’d used in the room.
I wasn’t sure what to think.
“I believe it could help with many of the problems we face,” he said. “Should we return to the conference room to discuss?”
She regained her composure as she nodded and led the way back to the room.
“The doctor said she would know more about me if she had other samples for comparison,” Molev said when Waurlyn sat. “And Irwin and the safe zones are struggling to maintain the resources necessary to support the number of people here. If we interview and train until I find two hundred candidates, we could airlift those people and the research team to Whiteman. The research team could collect additional samples. Irwin would be responsible for fewer survivors. And by sending a smaller number to start, my people would have time to adjust their resource planning before the next round arrives. Spacing them out would also give the researchers time to analyze samples between collections.”
