Justice(?)

Day 1

Jack Mason spent a few moments checking himself out in the full-length bathroom mirror. Clean shaven face, medium length brown hair, sculpted chest, six-pack abs, well-developed (but not muscle-bound) arms and legs, a hefty 9-inch cock, a good-sized pair of balls, and a tan that covered all but his groin and butt. No wonder all the girls at Caltech wanted to date the star quarterback... he had so much to offer.

"I have got it made. Junior year, so I have another year to go on my scholarship, and already pro scouts have been sniffing around trying to recruit me. I'm practically a shoo-in for a Heisman trophy next year, and if I were any prettier, I'd have start fighting off fags on a daily basis instead of just once a month or so. The next fairy that comes on as strong as that creepy "fashion photographer" that wanted me to shave all my body hair for some underwear ads is gonna get a face full of fist!"

"Jack...? Are you still in there?"

"Just a second," Jack answered as he reached for the doorknob. "What's got your panties in a knot?"

"I have class in 15 minutes, and I have to pee," the girl waiting outside the door ("what was her name again?") replied.

"Well shit, bitch... what's stopping you?"

"I need you to get the hell out of my bathroom. Now, dammit!"

"Alright, alright," said Jack. "I'm going. Just let me find my clothes and I'll be out of here."

"They're by the bed. Now get out and stay out!!"

"That's the problem with some women," thought Jack. "You slip them a nice bone once in a while, thinking you've done your good deed for the day, and all of a sudden they think they own you. Well, I guess I can scratch... uh... oh yeah - Brittany, that's her name. I guess I can scratch her name off my list of available sluts."

Jack quickly dressed and slipped out of the dorm, headed for the cafeteria for some needed calories. It might not be the best food in town, but the coach made sure the foods on the approved list were available, of high quality and somewhat flavorful. After paying for his meal, he spotted his buddy Dean and went over to join him for lunch.

"Hey, Brick," his teammate called. "I haven't seen you since Chem class this morning. Where'd you take off to?"

"Spent the last hour or so bangin' some blonde. Have to keep in shape, you know?"

"That's, what? The third this week? Aren't you afraid of catching something?"

"Me? Oh hell, no. I keep this temple pure, babe! When I send my guy into the sewer between some slut's legs, I make certain he goes in protected. No way do I want to pick up some strain of STD from of these bimbos. Besides, I'm not letting any money-grubbing cunt tie me down using some bawling kid to start draining my bank accounts. If they want a sample of my sperm, they'll have to scrape it off their tonsils. I'm keeping my little swimmers out of the hands of blackmailing bitches, and my other bits away from the need for any doctors."

Dean smiled at his friend's easy confidence. "Say, speaking of bitches, did you see that protest in the free-speech area today? Bunch of them were going on about 'no more sexual harassment on campus' or some shit. Half of them looked like dykes, if you ask me."

"Yeah, I saw them," Jack answered. "Like you say, most of them looked like they need a good dick to straighten them out. I do my best, but I'm only one guy. I tried paying a compliment to one of them as I was walking past, and the bitch turned around and slapped me. I laughed in her face, but she needs to trim her claws... caught me right on the jaw."

"I wondered where that scratch came from. I didn't figure you'd cut yourself shaving."

"Anyway, back to more serious matters. Is Coach going to be running extra training this week? We have that big game coming up against USC, you know?"

"No, Brick, you don't have to worry. Coach says we're all in top form right now and he doesn't want to over-train us and take the edge off. Just make practice on Saturday and we'll be good for the game next week."

"OK, Dino, so long as Coach is convinced you can keep those USC bruisers off my back on game day, I'll just relax and keep the game in the 'win' column."

The two continued chatting until they finished eating, then went their separate ways: Jack to his afternoon classes and Dean to his dorm for a quick nap. Jack's mood was fairly light, at least until Professor Sorenson's class, when Brenda Stebbins kept interrupting with a flood of questions on minor points of stress analysis that Jack found both incomprehensible and inconsequential.

"Why does she keep showing off for the prof, anyway? It isn't like she's ever going to make use of this stuff. Some lucky rich kid will melt through that Ice Queen façade of hers and have her pushing out kids in 3 years, tops."

After that, he returned to his own dorm (alone, for a change) and fell asleep thinking of the coming game with UCLA.

{Experiment 42 progress: successful. Subject reacted as expected, recovered full health and all changes fall within anticipated parameters.

Experiment 43 progress: failure. Changes present at predicted levels, but subject died.

Experiment 44 initiated. Subject chosen; vector introduced; no reactions noted at this time.}

Day 2

Thursday went by in an uninteresting blur: 3 classes, a quick "nooner" with a forgettable sophomore brunette, a final practice before the USC game, and ending up with a night of enthusiastic sex with Thalia Johnson, the redhead who considered herself Jack's. girlfriend. Jack for his part did nothing to disabuse her of that particular notion (he kept his other bed partners pretty much under the radar), but made certain to avoid any promises of fidelity or future marriage.

Day 3

Friday was just another day for the star athlete, but Jack did notice that he seemed just a bit more winded after his usual morning run. He didn't think much about that fact, but with the game pending the next day, he opted to forgo his usual bedroom exercises in favor of a bit more sleep to prepare for the battle to come.

Day 4

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, a perfect day to whip USC's butt, in Jack's opinion. After suiting up for the game, he was approached by Coach Davison.

"Hey there, Brick. I noticed you sniffling a bit there. You aren't coming down with anything, are you?"

"No, Coach, I'm fine. With all Trojan players and supporters cluttering up our fine stadium, maybe I'm developing an allergy to pansies."

"Don't go getting too cocky, Mason. USC has been having a good season. Start getting over-confident, they'll hand you your butt. If you aren't feeling well, let me know and I'll send in Kaczmerak."

"No, Coach, really," Jack said hastily. "Paul's a good guy and all, but you need to have your best men out there today. Besides, I heard there's a couple scouts for the pros in the stands. I'll give those players a little reminder of what losing feels like, trust me!"

The first half of the game seemed to justify Jack's confidence, with the Beaver quarterback throwing 2 touchdown passes and then catching the Trojan defense off guard and running the ball on second down and scoring from the 6-yard line just before the end of the half.

Minutes into the third quarter, however, Coach Davidson pulled Jack out, replacing him with the second-stringer.

"Why, Coach? I can still..."

"No, you can't. You may not notice it, but you've been slowing down. Right now, you're sweating like you've been running wind sprints all day, you're flushed, and your eyes are starting to look a bit bloodshot. I want Doc to take a look at you while you rest up, and if he's convinced you can go back in, you can finish out the game."

"I'm just a little tired is all, I can..."

"Listen, Brick... Jack... you don't need to prove you have enough heart to play. I can see that. But you look like you may be coming down with something and whatever it is, I don't want your teammates catching it. Is that clear enough for you? Doc," he said, signaling Ray Daniels, the team doctor, "take a look at Mason here and tell me if I should let him back into the game."

The medico gave Jack a quick exam. "Throat looks OK; no sign of swollen glands; no coughing; however, there is profuse sweating and there may be a slight fever. Go back to the locker room, son, and I'll come check on you later. It's probably nothing, but I don't see any reason to take any major chances with the team's health."

"OK, Doc," Jack said dispiritedly. "You win, Coach. I'll go take it easy for a bit, but I have your word I can go back in the game if I get better?"

"Yes, Brick, you have my word. No go to the locker room and rest, I have a team to coach here."

By the fourth quarter, Jack had vomited twice, and Doc Daniels had found him half-conscious on the floor with a fever of 105. An ambulance was called and shortly thereafter, Jack was in an isolation ward being surrounded by ice in a desperate attempt to bring his temperature down. Jack knew nothing of this, however, as he had lapsed into a coma without ever getting word of his team's 2-point margin of victory over the Trojans.

[Experiment 44 progress: nominal. Vector incubation was slightly longer than anticipated, perhaps due to subject's overall health. Primary effects are within projected parameters. Secondary effects not yet in evidence.

Experiment 45 initiated. Subject selected and vector introduced. No effects noted.

Experiment 43 progress: Postmortem indicates death was due to high fever, leading to overall organ failure.

Experiment 42 progress: subject terminated. Postmortem reveals a higher degree of internal change than previously anticipated. If this bears out in later trials, implications may be far-reaching indeed.]

In the following weeks, Jack Mason's health created a considerable amount of concern and activity in several institutions, including Huntington Memorial Hospital, California Institute of Technology athletic department, University of California Los Angeles Medical Center, and the Center for Disease Control. It was determined that the cause of his symptoms was a virus but finding that merely created more questions. Apparently, the virus was not airborne, could not be transmitted by contact with sweat or feces, and did not lend itself to being easily carried by any insects. While he was seemingly not contagious, Jack's bodily functions - from respiration, to heart rate, to blood pressure, to any other system the doctors could figure out a way to monitor - were watched as closely as possible.

Day 27

"Ah..., Mr. Mason, it seems you have finally decided to join the rest of the world today! Nurse, your assistance, please. Ah, ah, ah... don't try to talk right now. Let's get some of these tubes out of you first. You'll probably find you have a sore throat fore throat for a while, but getting you disconnected should help with that and generally make you much more comfortable. For the time being, just let me do the talking while I get you up to date.

"My name is Dr. Jason Tucker, and I am your attending physician. I don't know how much you remember about what happened - and we'll go over that in greater detail in the next day or two - but the short version is that you have been very ill and you've had us very scared for some time now. You are almost certainly going to feel very weak at first, but we're confident that we can fix that in due course. Don't be alarmed at how little you can control your muscles for the time being, and let the nurses help you as much as possible, for now.

"I'm sure you have a ton of questions you want answered. So do I. But for now, I just want you to rest. Take some warm (not hot) broth if you feel up to it, but sip it from a straw for now. Take it slow, build up your strength, and well get you back on your feet as soon as possible."

Jack might have protested, but the rawness of his throat and his lack of energy conspired to force him to follow doctor's orders as his consciousness faded away.

[Experiment 44 progress: nominal. Effects on the subject, while much more intense than anticipated, are following the predicted pattern. Secondary effects should begin to manifest within the next 3-7 days.]

Day 28

"Good morning, Mr. Mason. I trust that having all the tubing removed has made you more comfortable. If you're up to it, I think it's time we had more of a conversation than we did yesterday, and if your throat is better I suspect you have some questions you'd like to ask. Am I right?"

Jack nodded.

"Then ask away."

"What hit me?" Jack whispered, then cleared his throat and started to repeat himself.

"Save your voice, I can hear you. As to your question, I can't tell you that, exactly. There are a lot of medical experts in their fields that would like very much to be able to give you a complete answer, but I'll tell you what they've told me so far.

"We know it was a virus, and a very nasty one at that. It bears some resemblance to the corona family of viruses, and some resemblance to Ebola and to herpes simplex, but it's not quite like any of them."

"How did..."

"How did you come to get it? That is a very good question, one of the many that many people would pay a great deal to be able to answer. Let me ask you a question, if I may. What do you remember last before waking up here in the hospital?"

"I remember suiting up for the game... then things start to get a little fuzzy. I know I was hoping to impress some pro scouts, and I think there's more... but it's coming back slowly, in bits and pieces."

"That would be the game against USC? I can tell you that you did make an impression. Your teammate Paul Kaczmerak was never able to score against the Trojans, but the healthy lead you built in the first half was enough to pull off a win. Do you remember anything unusual? A pinprick during the game? Anything to eat or drink the rest of the team didn't? Any unusual smells? No? Anything before the game, anything at all out of the ordinary?"

"No, doc. Why? Do you think I was..."

"Targeted somehow? Some of the experts are beginning to think that may be the case, but no-one can find a good reason why, let alone how. The virus involved has none of the characteristics of an airborne virus. And while there are several viruses that can be passed only by contact with infected sweat or feces, none of the markers that are associated with that capability are present. We know that you got it, because we found it in your blood, but nobody you've been in contact with, from 3 weeks before that game up to the present time, has show any symptoms of anything more serious that a cold."

"So I'm not contagious?"

"No, Mr. Mason..."

"Call me Jack, or Brick. 'Mr. Mason' sounds like my old man, or that lawyer on TV."

"No, Jack, you're not contagious. Whether it was your own immune system, the gamma globulin we gave you, or simply the virus giving up and shutting down, there's no trace of it in your system that we can find."

"Then I can leave soon?"

"Mist... Jack, I don't think you realize just how much this thing has affected you. You need rest and physical rehabilitation before your life will be back to the way you remember it. You've also missed a lot of your courses and will require some tutoring to be able to learn or re-learn what you need to be able to graduate. Luckily, your prowess of the athletic field, along with the news story about how you were stricken, has generated quite a bit of alumni funding to cover both your medical and educational expenses. For the time being, let the nurses and orderlies continue to help you as much as you need."

"Well, right now, I really need to piss, so if someone can help me to the john..."

"Someone will help you use a urine bottle today. I know it's embarrassing but let them help. If you insist, tomorrow - if I'm convinced you can stand up without passing out - you can ask someone to help you walk to the toilet. Is that understood?"

"OK. Not that I agree with all you've said, but I don't have the energy to fight you... which probably means you're right."

[Experiment 44 progress; nominal. Subject is not yet fully aware of the extent of the changes of this phase of the process. Secondary effects have not yet started to manifest.

All other experiments have been suspended. All efforts for the foreseeable future will be concentrated on Experiment 44.]

Day 29

"Well, Jack, how are you doing today? Feel like you can sit up for me today?"

"Sure, doc... I... I... God, I knew I was in bad shape, but I don't think I've ever been this weak before. Can I get a hand here?"

Dr. Tucker smiled and turned to the male nurse on the other side of the bed. "Peter, would you help Mr. Mason to sit up? He's been under the impression I've been keeping him bedridden out of some vindictive need for control, I suspect."

Jack groaned as he was assisted into an upright position on his bed. "It's not that, doc. It's just... I don't know, I've never felt this helpless before."

"You may find this hard to believe, but I'm reassured by the fact that I can see you sitting up without any sign of dizziness or loss of color to your face. That means that your heart is strong, and your blood pressure is close to normal."

"Does that mean I can get up and go to the bathroom? I really have to piss, and I don't like having my junk handled by a guy. No offense, Pete, but you really aren't my type."

"I think we can risk it. Peter, help him to walk into the bathroom and get seated on the toilet, then give him the privacy he so obviously wants."

"Thanks, doc. Whoa... thanks for the assist, Pete. My legs really don't want to support me right now." Jack slowly made his way toward the restroom, but hesitated when he stepped inside. "I'm sorry, I didn't think... wait. What...? Is that..? Doc... DOC! Doctor Tucker?!? How long was I out?! Why am I an old man? WHAT THE FUCK..."

"Easy, Jack. Calm down. Let me explain. I see what the problem is, and I should have anticipated something like this." Dr. Tucker rushed to Jack's side and tried to soothe the young man's nerves. "You were in a coma for a few weeks, not years, I assure you. But the virus played some nasty tricks on your body. You had a fever that reached as high as 108⁰ on a number of occasions, and it not only ate through all your fat reserves, it started breaking down some of your muscle tissues. That's why you're so weak and why you skin is so loose in a number of places."

"Yeah, but I'm bald!!"

"Yes, and not just on your scalp. In fact, if you look closely, you're already starting to recover some of your follicles there. See the fine fuzz on top? All of your hair fell out, including eyebrows and body hair. The condition is called alopecia, and while it's rare to be so complete in its effect, it isn't unheard of in cases of such a high fever. In your case, though, it seems to be temporary. Give it time, it will likely all grow back."

"Jeez, that gave me a shock... my heart is still galloping! I can see now some of what you've been talking about. Looks like I'm going to be sidelined the rest of this season, doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Jack. I'm sorry. But if you work hard at your physical therapy sessions and get your strength and stamina back, I'm certain they'll have you back next year. Especially when I tell them what you had to come back from. For right now, work with me, keep me advised of any changes you notice - of any sort. No matter how small the change might seem to you, it may prove significant. Given the unique nature of this virus, I won't be overly surprised to find more changes that we haven't noticed yet."