Civil Blood_The Vampire Rights Trial that Changed a Nation

by Chris Hepler

  I pick up my glass of water from the witness stand and drink for a moment. It's tepid, but I need it. Cho sits at his desk pretending to be interested in flicking a pen back and forth. I'm making an enemy today, but Cho is the opposition. He was going to be one anyway.

  "So, what's he doing? He's literally not thinking. He's still got brain activity on an fMRI scan but not in the same areas you and I do. He has shifted control of his posture and his muscle contractions away from conscious control and into the subconscious. His cerebrum shuts up, and the cerebellum does all the work. The body gets only one smooth signal, no hesitation. People call that clarity all sorts of things because suddenly gaining an altered state of consciousness feels like a mystical experience. They say you're enlightened, or the loa are riding you, or in China, they thought they felt qi… internal energy.

  "Normally, fiddling around with traditional teachings, it'll take you five to ten years to learn Dr. Karras's trick. With a stimweb, it's closer to five to ten months. As for VIHPS… it's five days. Our fMRI scans indicate that one hundred percent of the time, vipes' bodily movements are under direct control by the cerebellum. Every single adult VIHPS-positive individual free of brain damage can do what Dr. Karras has just demonstrated. You can struggle and hit them, and it won't do a damn thing."

  A susurrus goes through the crowd, as people shift in their seats and whisper in ears. My eye's on Bayat. The old man is calm, a rock in the rain. He showed little expression on his face during the visceral theater, but evenly matched cases tend to go the way that the crowd twists in the gut. I've scored, even if Bayat is too good to show it.

  "Bone ossification, muscle attachment points, subconscious cerebellar control. That's what makes a VIHPS individual able to overpower a normal human being ninety-nine percent of the time. Does that adequately explain the biophysics for you?"

  "It does," Bayat says.

  "Objection," Cho raises. "Inflammatory."

  I blink. "Explaining biophysics is inflammatory?"

  "Overpowering a human is not a traditional measure of strength. Inflammatory."

  Bayat is unimpressed. "Ms. Campion, was that statistic submitted to opposing counsel?"

  "It is among the documents we sent, Your Honor."

  "Ms. Campion," says Cho, "You sent over twenty-two thousand pages of discovery. My staff and I have not yet been able to review every page. I would like to reserve the ability to make the objection at a later point after we have reviewed the material further."

  Bayat steps in. "You've had one month to review all discovery, and we aren't even in evidentiary yet. You have until tomorrow to argue this objection. Ms. Campion, continue."

  Campion is all business again. "Dr. Kern, do these changes make a VIHPS-positive individual more dangerous to society at large?"

  "Undoubtedly."

  "More dangerous, to the level that they cannot be exposed to society?"

  "Yes, but not by itself. I mean, we still have guns in this country, and we figure most law-abiding people can be trusted with them. But vector brains also change in a secondary way that is certainly the tipping point."

  "And what is that?"

  "They're addicts of human blood," I say. "You don't give an addict a gun."

  35 - KERN

  September 16th

  The questions on standing drag on into a second day, when Cho approaches.

  "Dr. Kern," Cho says, with all the polish of new silverware. My eyes are on my sleeve, as a glitch of mayonnaise has migrated there from my lunch. I look up and get a flash of Cho's eyes and his smile. I only know one other man who smiles after getting knocked on his ass, and he is someone worth fearing.

  "Have you ever met the plaintiff, Mr. Morgan Lorenz?" Cho asks.

  "I have not."

  "But you feel comfortable judging him unfit to be in our society."

  "I do."

  "You don't consider this prejudicial in any way? Understand, please, I am not accusing you of prejudice. I would simply ask if this is a scientific conclusion."

  "It is based on our observations, which have stringent controls."

  "And this is because you view every VIHPS-infected individual as a danger to our society, no exceptions?"

  "Yes."

  "So, even if an infected person were in a wheelchair, you would call them dangerous?"

  I try a little righteous irritation. "Actually, I would, and I'll explain why. Even in that case, the vector would still need to feed. Obviously, he or she could not overpower victims easily, but if he convinced someone to voluntarily submit to the feeding process, he could still pass on the disease. Then, you have another infected individual, who can chase down prey, can spread their own infection, et cetera. Everyone here needs to understand; this is a merciless plague."

  "But what occurs if the donor of the blood already has the disease? Do they get worse?"

  "They can usually survive the process."

  "I see," says Cho. "And there's no new infection."

  I realize I'd better say something. "It is not, however, possible for a community of vectors to feed solely off one another, if that's where you're going."

  "Not possible or not possible given our current level of understanding?"

  "Not possible."

  "Well, I'm sure you believe that to be the case. Are there other studies?"

  "Not that I know of. And if you have some secret papers by some source other than the Initiative, by all means bring them up, and we'll subject them to peer review."

  Cho turns as he paces. "So, the only studies on this disease are from the Benjamin Rush Health Initiative, and you are comfortable basing your expert testimony solely on these studies. Is that correct?"

  "It follows evidence as we best understand it. That is as close as human beings get to an objective truth."

  "But science changes all the time, does it not?"

  Oh, please. Is this ace really going to go down the only-a-theory road of so many politicians? "Science stays the same. New studies give us new information."

  Cho covers. "I'm talking about the overall view. Theories do get disproven."

  "Certain theories sometimes get disproven, especially if their methods were shoddy. We obviously don't believe ours were."

  "How long would you say you have been studying how qi affects the brain?"

  "Formally?" Crap. What was the last anniversary? "I became a doctor about nine years ago, but I tried to learn everything I could about the webs as soon as I heard about them. So, what do we call that—thirteen years?"

  "And did you work with anyone more senior than you, someone who knows more about the subject?"

  "I did at first."

  "Who was that person?"

  "I had the privilege of working directly with Dr. Ulan."

  "The founder of qi studies. Do you know when she began?"

  "About twenty, twenty-five years back. You can read that in her book."

  "So, this entire field of studying qi is only twenty-five years old. When was the first known case of VIHPS again?"

  "The first known case, also Dr. Ulan, happened four years ago."

  "Is that a long time in the history of scientific advancements?"

  I can think of a few fields to compare it to, but trying to spin it is futile. "No, it's not."

  "Therefore, it's entirely possible that we may learn much more about VIHPS-infected people's biology in the future. Is that correct?"

  "It's possible, but certain basic facts aren't going to change. They're still going to be addicted to human blood, for example."

  "I see. Are you familiar with the drug methadone?"

  "Yes."

  "Could you explain for us how it is used to treat heroin addicts?"

  "I'm not an addiction specialist."

  "You're a doctor, are you not?"

  I'm pissed enough to answer. "Methadone's given as a substitute for heroin, usually a daily injection."

  "That's interesting. You’re saying addiction can be alleviated. I
s it not possible for science to come up with a similar substitute for human blood?"

  "We don't think so."

  "Can you explain why?"

  "It's far more about turning passive qi to active than it is about human blood's nutritive value. We've tried cow blood, chimpanzee blood, cadaver blood, refrigerated blood plasma without anticoagulants—"

  "If I can interrupt, you say it's more about qi."

  "Yes. They need a living human as prey."

  "Are drugs known to affect the qi of the user?"

  "Many, though largely negatively. Alcohol and heroin, for instance—"

  "What about beta blockers and zinc supplements? Don't they have a positive effect on the generation of qi?"

  Bayat's watching. Can't scowl. "I know they have no effect on slaking a vector's thirst."

  "But it is possible for drugs to affect the brain and alter qi generation?"

  "Yes."

  "And it is possible to create drugs that treat addictions?"

  "Yes, but I don't believe where you're going with this is remotely plausible. Maybe in fifty years, we'll have nanomachines repairing their brains—"

  "Yes or no—"

  "—and you can buy a six-pack of them at liquor stores—"

  "Objection, Your Honor. Goes beyond scope of the question asked."

  "—but neuroscientists, hematologists, they can't solve it. People are being murdered for their blood today."

  "Dr. Kern, rest assured that everyone in this room knows what the stakes are," Bayat says, and I know I'm losing.

  Cho takes over once more. "So, in this time of crisis, you have trust in your fellow scientists at the Benjamin Rush Health Initiative."

  Trick question? Can't be. "Yes."

  "And there is great consensus in these doctors' professional opinion, then, that a VIHPS-infected individual's brain is fundamentally different than a normal brain, and there is no substitute for the effect that qi has on that brain."

  "Yes."

  "And the structural differences in the brain, do they affect more than the strength that was demonstrated earlier?"

  "Yes, they shape up to be the brains of addicts."

  "So... they will lack certain attributes." Cho fiddles with papers from his desk. "Would you say they lack... reason, due to this brain change?"

  "If something got in between them and a fix of human blood... yes. They become obsessed. Reason does not help."

  "How about... judgment?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Self-control?"

  "Yes."

  "Willpower?"

  "These seem like synonyms."

  "Mr. Cho, is this going somewhere?" asks Bayat.

  "It is, Your Honor. Dr. Kern, you hold that your basic theories will not change substantially over time. I have here an excerpt from a textbook on neurology that makes statements similar to yours. Have you heard of Dr. Robert Bean?"

  The name scratches at me, but I can't remember why. I think of biomedical engineer friends of mine at Hopkins, UVA, Harvard. Nothing. "I haven't."

  "I'll read a portion of his work. It says: 'The frontal region of the Negro skull has been repeatedly shown to be much smaller than that of the Caucasian. Considering this fact, the conclusion is reached that the Negro has a smaller proportion of the faculties pertaining to the frontal lobe than the Caucasian. The Negro, then, lacks reason, judgment... self-control, willpower...' Shall I go on?"

  "That's quite enough, Mr. Cho," says Bayat.

  "What textbook is that?" I say.

  "Dr. Robert Bennett Bean's The Races of Man, circa 1935. Times have changed since that view of the brain was presented. Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Kern?"

  This little shit doesn't get to paint me like this. But shouting that my boss and ex are both black will sound desperate. "If your doctor were alive today, and he isn't, I doubt he'd get past peer review."

  "He did, Dr. Kern. Dr. Bean attended the Johns Hopkins University, as you did, and went on to teach at the University of Virginia, using The Races of Man as a textbook. Do you consider your work infallible, Dr. Kern?"

  "Of course not."

  "Do you not think your team might have made a mistake as Dr. Bean did?"

  "No." I look at the audience as if they'd help. Where's their love now?

  "Why not?"

  "Because I know the people involved, I've seen their work, and I've watched people I know succumb to this disease."

  "You mean Dr. Ulan."

  "Among others."

  "When were you first aware Dr. Ulan had contracted the virus?"

  "I suspected it from the moment she had the accident."

  "And what symptoms did you first notice?"

  He wants the hit list? Fine. "Paranoia. Agitation. Sensitivity to sunlight."

  "To sunlight or all light?"

  Caught. "To… bright light."

  "Tell us about how the paranoia first manifested."

  "Dr. Ulan was irritable and hostile when we suggested she might be infected."

  "Hostile? Did she become physically violent?"

  I prepared for this. "Yes. I cut my finger slicing a bagel. She attempted to feed on me, and I only got away with the help of the staff restraining her."

  "Really," says Cho, and I'm about to smack him. Isn't this an asked-and-answered thing?

  "Yes." I can't read Cho's expression. He's up to something. "If you ask the staff, they'll tell you the same thing. She wanted to drink my blood. It took three or four of us to stop her, and she spent the night in restraints. It wasn't long after that she broke out of the room and attempted to feed on an orderly. By the end of the first week, we had run out of Haldol—that's a sedative—and we put her in Forced Protection."

  Cho isn't irritated or even thinking on his feet. He's trying to contain a smirk as he looks out over the audience. I follow his gaze and see only a mixed bag of middle-aged reporters, half telegenic and half print/screeners. I keep to rehearsed lines.

  "Her stay in Forced Protection lasted for a few weeks. Then, she escaped."

  "And how did that happen?"

  "She infected one of the staff during a sexual liaison. He was able to undo her restraints and the doors, and then it was a short trip to the parking lot."

  Again, Cho seems unfazed, and it hits me. This should have been me solidifying my lead, and instead I've jumped on a petard and started hoisting. I've been batting away Cho's questions one by one, heedless of the throughline. It's all about my personal experience, and the experience is the lie. But Cho couldn't know that unless he has a rival source waiting in the wings.

  I look once more at the audience, searching for graying hair, for sunglasses. There, a woman three rows back, her ears and hair hidden under a head scarf. The woman I haven't seen in years, an expert even more qualified than me.

  The Lorenz team has their mouthpiece, and her teeth are going to be sharp.

  36 - JESSICA

  September 17th

  Honestly, Kern and I are alike in many ways, but I will wait until the heat death of the universe before saying that in public. He, of course, swore in on the Bible, assuredly to win points rather than out of genuine belief. I take an affirmation instead. If I have a soul to mark with dishonesty, I'll make myself suffer for it long before any deity gets the chance.

  “You get up there like Galileo,” Morgan told me. “You tell them what reality is.” I didn't have the heart to tell him that Galileo caved at his trial multiple times before the famous bit of defiance. I'm not going to do a damn thing like Galileo. I'm going to do it like Ulan.

  Cho approaches me, all white teeth and moussed hair. He looks a little like my younger brother, twenty years and a mountain of paranoia ago. I haven't seen him in person since the infection. But the questions are familiar, rehearsed, comforting.

  "Dr. Ulan, where was your last place of official employment?"

  "It was at the BRHI Advanced Biophysics Experimental Laboratory."

  "And how did your employment there officiall
y end?"

  "I became infected with a level 5 biohazardous material, a yin-qi-saturated version of European Bat Lyssavirus-4. I stopped going to work there because it was contagious."

  "Contagious how?"

  "Saliva-to-blood and blood-to-blood. It cannot be airborne."

  "And how did your infection occur?"

  "I was saturating a petri dish with yin qi. The energy broke it, and the virus got in the cut in my hand."

  "Were you violating safety protocol at the time?"

  "No. A level 4 lab is built to contain viruses like Ebola or simian hemorrhagic fever. A level 5 lab adds qi sterilization procedures. It was, at that time, considered as stringent as we could possibly be. Nonetheless, our precautions proved inadequate since my infection got through."

  "This virus is the originator of Virally Induced Hematophagic Predation Syndrome, correct?"

  "It is."

  "You have this so-called predation syndrome now, as we speak."

  "Yes."

  "Am I in any danger?"

  "No."

  "Dr. Ulan, we have heard from Dr. Kern. He said, based on his work with you and other infected persons, he judges VIHPS-infected vectors such as yourself as a different species. He says you are medically unable to join society. What is your opinion of this?"

  I scrutinize the crowd. Marcus is too busy or too chicken to be here. I pick a camera to speak to. He'll watch this, all right. "I have carried this disease for four years now. In that time, I haven't resorted to violence once."

  "But Morgan Lorenz has. Dr. Kern says every single infected individual, including you, resorts to violence to feed. And the vipes we have seen on the news have all consumed human blood from overpowered victims."

  "If they didn't, they wouldn't be on the news very much. I wasn't."

  "And as for Dr. Kern, who keeps records?"

  "I challenge his findings, I doubt his story, and in both instances, I would know. Feeding can and must be done without violence." I'm in control now, so I can keep the pain out of my voice. I began with consenting adults, but they didn't stay consenting. They were hit from all sides with vomiting and burning muscles, and if that didn't change their mind, the first time they bit their wife did. So, I practiced The Talk and The Move. As the names stretched on forever, so did my road from D.C. to Annapolis to Wilmington to Philly to Brighton Beach. Those who were loyal, I taught. Those who were not only saw tire tracks where I once lived.