The Parasite

"This is the last time I'm saying it. You reach that passageway and turn the dial of your watch to the right. This'll generate an infrared signal tuned to activate the nanobots in the parasite. The subsequent degradation of the monoamines in their CNS will lead to immediate hypokinesia in the security guards. Once the stupor sets in, you go in. You get that money and you bring your miserable ass back to the HQ."

"Yes sir!", shouted with all the audacity the boy could. "And don't you dare forget to push the red button only after as soon as you have left the scene. There's a limitation to how much retrograde amnesia can be induced by the parasite." The daunting statements were no match for the boy's futile attempt to appear tough. But order's an order. Now that he was assigned the task, he was bound to do it. No one can refuse Dr. Hötzel. That's the bottom line.

The target was a multinational company, Gris Martica. Everyone in the city knew how the company came to be. Extortion of the poor is what they did. Problem was, nobody would raise a voice against it. Why get yourself killed for the plight of someone else? Dr. Hötzel, however, couldn't just be ok with the way things were. Someone who had been a descendant of the poor can't just overlook their problems. In 60 years of his existence, he had earned the title of 'Robinhood of the 22nd Century.'

Dr. Schwiden Hötzel was an inhabitant of Auschwitz. His sharp wit had earned him many scholarships and ergo he could achieve his dream. A Phd. in Microbiology from the University of Munich. The world of microbes had always fascinated him. The fact that these omnipresent little fellas, progenitors of all life on the planet, have survived and will survive all catastrophes that the planet will see, was very exciting for him. He knew their potential all along. "An association of humans and microbes. Wouldn't that be fascinating?", he'd wonder.

"How do you know that the decision you make are yours?" he'd ask his students during his lectures. "Rats fear cats. They fear their odour. There are some who don't. As a matter of fact, they are downright curious about their urinary smell. How will the rat ever know that it's not his fault? That it is not his bravery that made him different from others but a vicious protozoan controller Toxoplasmosis gondii making the rat an easy prey just so that it can enter the cat to compete its life cycle?"

"Rats aren't the only victims. These sneaky kingpins run their scandals wherever possible. Be it the spider Leucauge argyra who makes it his utmost priority to weave not a web but a thick cable just so that the larva of the wasp Hymenoepimecis argyraphaga (emerging from the eggs glued to spider's body by the female) could hang in its cocoon, saving it from the predators! Or the bacculoviruses making the caterpillar of Gypsy moth to climb up, only to get them dissolved into goo by the release of proteolytic enzymes by caterpillar's own cells, once they reach a sufficient height, because when the goo will fall down on other leaves from above, more caterpillars would eat, hence propagating the virus."

Every time he'd recite the examples to his students, the sense of amazement would bewilder him. "Would we ever run out of examples?" "The fungus Ophiocordyceps unilateralis infects certain ants which cause irregularly timed body convulsions, making them drop to the floor. The ant will climb up a plant upto a certain height, and lock its jaw into the vein of a leaf when the direction, temperature, humidity are apt for the fungus, thereby sprouting from ant's head. Horribly beautiful, huh? Plasmodium falciparum, makes females Anopheles more attracted to nectar whilst it's not in the infective sporozoite stage, serving both purposes, increased sugar intake for itself and reduced mortality of Anopheles in its non infective ookinete/oocyst stage. The appetite for human blood is increased once it's in the infective stage."

"Such drastic changes in behavior, and the affected doesn't have one clue about it. Every field of human development has benefited when we have learned from the ecosystem around us. Doesn't this tell you about the myriad applications?"

This fascinating concept tingled his mind for years. That there's a possibility that your motives are never actually yours. You just think that you do it because supposedly you always wanted to do it. But it isn't always this way, is it? Intestinal bacterial flora has been known to affect a person's personality. T.gondii has been linked with Schizophrenia and 1% increase in suicide. This is what Dr. Hötzel wished to exploit. "What if I could genetically modify the parasites so that they could make my motive, the motive of the host human?", he'd think.

Years and years of research. 20 years back he was on the verge of the breakthrough. Then one fine day, he did it. He had successfully modified a bacculovirus. Virus was the perfect subject for modification. Easily accessible DNA and easier evasion of the host immune response was the key. Modify a particular gene sequence and it'd make the virus reside in the basal ganglia and boom, you can affect the host's movement. Methylate a nitrogen base at a particular locus, and eureka, the virus would reside in the limbic system making the host loyal as a dog, or modify any of his intentions. Add a synthetic base at some other locus, it'd make hippocampus its home and there, you have the key to the host's memory.

All those sleepless nights had finally paid off. Now he could do justice to that rage that had always been there inside him. He didn't need to pay people to work for him. All he needed to do was infect. Infect with the strain, specific for the kind of work that needs to be done.

This was the very reason nobody disobeyed him. Nobody actually knew that they were supposed to disobey him. They were doing "what their heart said." Dr Hötzel had begun a new era of slavery, a molecular one.

The young boy was a new recruit. The previous one got killed in one of these operations. This was the first time a naïve person would conduct his operation. But Dr Hötzel saw something in him, that's why he chose him. He was one of his students at the university. A particularly bright one. Maybe it was his sapiosexuality. The boy turned out to be better than his expectations. He carried out the operation flawlessly. That very instant Dr. Hötzel realised that he has found the missing piece required for his final operation.

"Hey, boy, come here.", a deep, somber voice echoed in the laboratory, when the professor called on the boy.

"Yes sir?", the boy comes running to him.

"I am greatly satisfied by your previous job."

"Thank you sir, it's a pleasure working for you."

"I need a favour from you. I need your help for something that is very important for me. Would you do it?"

"Sir, yes sir! You need not ask. What is it?"

"Good, dear boy. It's my final mission. It's time we put an end to the misery my people have to endure. We'll kill the CEO of Gris Martica, for good."

The boy trembled at the sound of it. Something didn't feel right. Countless thoughts were crossing his mind. "Did he just ask me to kill someone?" "This is what I have always wanted to do. I'm finally getting the opportunity to kill a man." "No, killing is wrong." "This is a crime." "Oh gosh, the thrill of killing, the fittest will survive and the weak shall perish!"

"What happened dear, you seem troubled. Say something. Is there a problem?"

A weak voice was heard," No....No sir. Just tell me when and how to do it."

"Nice. You go and wait in my office. I'll be there once I finish this experiment."

While the boy was waiting in the office, his moral consciousness was at war, in a turmoil. Was he supposed to forget everything his parents taught him? Forget the right and wrong? It was so hard to resist for him. Now that he was asked to do it, the temptation to do it was unbelievable. He was sweating profusely when he noticed something. There were some papers beneath professor's heavy books on the desk.

"Damn, these are some old papers. Umm...this is professor's handwriting I guess. 'I did it, I finally did it. After all these years of research...."

The boy had found the original article that the professor wrote when he made the breakthrough. An article about how he would proceed with things thenonwards. How he would control his way to his supremacy and vengeance. The boy couldn't believe this. How could a boy believe that it was not his affection, his respect that made him work for the professor but just a shrewd plan. That he had no will all along. In a moment, his existence had been reduced to a mere puppet.

The boy had tears in his eyes. His sole motive in his life was now to take revenge from Dr. Hötzel. He had decided that the day he will be handed a gun to kill a man, it will be Dr. Hötzel who will be killed. No more should any one be entralled by that malefactor.

The D-Day was set at 14 days from now, when the owner of Gris Martica will be alone at home since his family will have gone on vacation according to the intel Dr. Hötzel recieved. In the meantime preparation had to be done. New viruses to be modified. Arrangements to be made to finally take the ultimate revenge. One of these days, when the professor did the routine check of CCTV recording of his office, he finds the one in which the boy finds his research article.

Something had to be done about this. He can't allow someone to know his secret. Everything will tumble down otherwise. D-day seemed to be a good opportunity. He could take care of both of them at once. His death could easily be manipulated as an operation mishap.

A very interesting showdown was about to happen. Both geniuses chose the same method to kill the other. In the morning of the D-DAY Dr. Hötzel gave him the gun and briefed him again about the plan. The boy was sweating. Trying as hard as he could to resist the temptation.

"Okay. Enough is enough. Can't handle any more. You pathetic son of a bitch!", the boy screams fanatically, pointing his gun at Dr. Hötzel.

"Ah. Our thought process is so similar. I always had a special liking for you."

"Shut up, okay! Shut up! I don't want to hear anything from you. How can you even sleep at night after doing all this to people?", he cried with his face and eyes red and tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I was actually wondering how a subject would respond after he's told about the experiment. There, you have the result. He'd want to kill you. This is hilarious!"

"You bas.....", the boy was suddenly pummeled down by Dr. Hötzel's 'slaves'.

"Do you really think I wouldn't have anticipated such a situation? I'm sorry, I can't let you ruin my decades of work. Can you even imagine how much hardwork was required to make it work?" "....and yeah, don't worry about these creatures, the megadoses of the parasitic virus has made them zombies, no free will at all. You see, I learn from my mistakes."

Dr. Hötzel then takes out his gun and points at him to shoot. Just as he is going to shoot, a sudden guilt strikes him. The awakening was consuming. Maybe it was the affection for the boy or maybe it was the guilt a person should feel after such deeds. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wet. He takes the gun and shoots himself in the abdomen.

"I'm sorry dear.", he utters in a shaking voice.

He could see the boy laugh. Laughing like a crazy. A sudden realisation strikes Dr. Hötzel again.

"Why would I shoot myself?", he asked aloud furiously. "Oh no. I get it. You puny devil, you puny freaking bastard. You infected me with a virus engineered to make my limbic system feel excess guilt! You snob!"

The boy was happy. He was smirking while Dr. Hötzel was dying slowly infront of him.

"Nah. Toxoplasmosis gondii, professor."