H Trope:
ZOMBIES! (*sigh*, again…)
Current Event: http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2014/08/13/chinese_internet_rumors_ebola_zombies,
http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2014/08/17/vietnam-war-dempsey-visit-counter-china/14185033/
Quân Nhung
sighed as he swiped the story off his comppad and said, “This claim that Ebola
doesn’t create zombies out of Humans is just a ploy by Chinese Imperialists to
annex us and create another prefecture for Beijing to bleed us dry.” He laid it
down on his desk and returned his attention to his own computer, and tapped his
screen, saying, “What do you make of Ebola jumping to Haiti?”
Chenda Dara
shook her head, “Everything’s a ‘ploy by Chinese Imperials’ to you. How did you
ever make it into the International CDC if you think everything’s a plot
against normal people?”
Quân looked over
at her and snorted as he activated his keyboard projector and began typing
while he ranted, “The reason they hired me, Chenda is because I’m a paranoid
conspiracist. They need people like me to generate the scenarios they use to
create plans to counter endless permutations of apocalypse. If I wasn’t like
this, people who trust the rest of the world implicitly would all be dead now.”
“You used
circular logic to prove only that you’re good at using circular logic to
justify your paranoia.”
He genially
flipped her off. Even though they were both seventeen, they were the best
Vietnam had been able to produce since calling up the debt America owed them –
a debt they counted in permanently denuded a countryside, a slaughtered
generation of men, and an infrastructure totally fractured. The US responded
guiltily by boosting every child whose family desired it. He and Chenda each
had the informational equivalent of a PhD in microbiology and computational
simulation technology. The Center for Disease Control had moved to Hanoi when
the US government sterilized Atlanta after an outbreak of pneumAIDS appeared
from a mutated virus and leaped out of control, taking most of the state of
Georgia with it.
However...however...Quân
said, “This whole idea of a zombie plague is idiotic! Who do the Chinese think
we are? Superstitious ancestor worshippers?” He rolled his eyes and looked up, “Chenda?”
Cussing, he stood up, stretched and followed her out to the smoking deck. At
least that’s where he thought she’d gone. He stepped out into the steamy night
air of the fiftieth floor balcony of the Hanoi CDC Needle – both symbolic and practical
– on top of it was a communication center with a direct link to the American-owned
CDC satellite as well as a broadcast tower that could use any frequency known
to Humanity. “Chenda?” He took out a pack of real tobacco cigarettes – rare and
heavenly as well as affordable on his salary – and lit up.
From the shadowy
area near the window, Chenda said, “You have to be the most foolish paranoid I’ve
ever met, Quân.”
“What?”
Chenda stepped
out of the shadows, “You really think zombies shamble in this day and age? You
think we walk around with our arms stretched out and grunt and groan
incoherently?” He hand lashed out, grabbing his, knocking the cigarette over
the balustrade. He screamed as she bite the fleshy part of his lower arm; bit
through the expensive silk shirt and tore a piece of living, bloody flesh from
his body…
Names: ♀ Khmer, Old Celt ; ♂ Vietnam
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