Once there was a boy who lived on an island off the coast of New York. It was a small island, housing mainly a large scientific research facility funded by the United Nations and a military base. This boy grew up there with his parents and his younger sister. He went to the small island school for which he was too smart, and he rode bikes around the island with his best friend and his sister. They were kings and queen of their little island – the children everyone knew, loved and chased. And as they grew up, and he noticed that his best friend and his sister were looking at each other more closely, holding hands more often, well, that couldn’t really be helped, could it?
In spite of this, all was not right with this boy’s world. Because there were days, sometimes weeks or even months at a time when his sister could not come outside and play. When his best friend stayed in her room, laying quietly and tensely on the bed next to her as they watched a movie instead of coming out. There were times when he would sit next to his sister, holding her hand as she received one treatment or another, trying to take as much of her pain into himself as he could.
And despite all of the specialists and scientists and research that could be done right next door, nothing seemed to make her better. His parents, once bright, happy and cheerful, now had faces lined with worry, with exhaustion. A once full house became quiet later and later into the night as the parents searched more and more desperately for a cure, winning a grant from the United Nations Research and Development Defense Corps to use their unlimited resources in their search.
And then one day, a miracle happened. The parents, with that unique and catalytic combination of desperation and brilliance, had found a cure – a cure that could erase all traces of the disease. A cure that could wind its way through the boy’s sister until not only was she healthy, but stronger and faster and smarter than before. A cure that seemed to work for all diseases, changing a person’s DNA so that it was no longer susceptible to outside forces. In return for two years in the Defense Corps, anyone could receive an injection.
For a few, blessed and wonderful weeks the world rejoiced as the most devastating illnesses, the most fearful and grief-ridden faces relaxed to see their loved ones coming back better and brighter than before.
The boy’s best friend and his sister were together more than ever. Their smiles were wider, their expressions more relaxed. He was constantly touching her – his hand on her waist, his fingers on her hips his lips in her hair. Perhaps, if they had been able to stop staring, to stop drinking in the other, the island would not have gotten the advance warning that it did. The boy’s sister became more aggressive, meaner and colder. On day one it was noticeable. On day two, frightening. By day three, the sister had been committed for analysis and treatment. By day five, the recall of the miracle cure had begun.
By day six, they realized that it was too late.
