We're a people obsessed with height. I don't know, that's about as close to philosophizing as I get. I don't like to think about height when I'm on duty.
See, I work for the CDNY, which means I'm the one they call in when someone is suspected of being a Cordy. That's what we call those with the fungus, Cordyceps.
I still shudder every time I think about the fungus, and I've been doing this job for 18 years. They make you watch someone with the fungus behind one of those one-way mirrors; trying to climb up the walls, screaming and pounding against the door, promising anything to be released, until finally they lay face first onto the ground and die.
You would think that would be it, but no. They make you come in each day after that to watch the transformation take place. It's unnoticeable at first, but you definitely notice something the next day. A bulge of some sort on the back of the head.
The next day most people lose it, no matter how much they expect it. The fungus has sprouted by then and in some cases it is already almost a foot in height. One more day and you have so many spores in the air you could wipe out a small city. We don't have the resources to treat a whole city.
After the fungus adapted to man we lost too many people to respond effectively. Add in the fact that the symptoms weren't obvious, the fungus hit most of the globe at the same time thanks to the wonder that is air travel, and you start to realize the size of disaster we were facing.
So what am I doing about it? Like I said, I'm a member of the CDNY, the police force with the sole task of patrolling this city's streets, and especially its skyscrapers, for any sign of suspicious behavior that might be related to the fungus.
I say especially skyscrapers because the ones infected with the fungus always try to get to the top. Seems their brains are hardwired to get up there.
There's a young guy, my new partner, sitting in the next seat as we're rolling into the last hour of our shift. He doesn't have a handle on this job yet, still has that gleam in his eyes as if he is going to singlehandedly change the world. Perhaps I looked like that when I first started.
See, I work for the CDNY, which means I'm the one they call in when someone is suspected of being a Cordy. That's what we call those with the fungus, Cordyceps.
I still shudder every time I think about the fungus, and I've been doing this job for 18 years. They make you watch someone with the fungus behind one of those one-way mirrors; trying to climb up the walls, screaming and pounding against the door, promising anything to be released, until finally they lay face first onto the ground and die.
You would think that would be it, but no. They make you come in each day after that to watch the transformation take place. It's unnoticeable at first, but you definitely notice something the next day. A bulge of some sort on the back of the head.
The next day most people lose it, no matter how much they expect it. The fungus has sprouted by then and in some cases it is already almost a foot in height. One more day and you have so many spores in the air you could wipe out a small city. We don't have the resources to treat a whole city.
After the fungus adapted to man we lost too many people to respond effectively. Add in the fact that the symptoms weren't obvious, the fungus hit most of the globe at the same time thanks to the wonder that is air travel, and you start to realize the size of disaster we were facing.
So what am I doing about it? Like I said, I'm a member of the CDNY, the police force with the sole task of patrolling this city's streets, and especially its skyscrapers, for any sign of suspicious behavior that might be related to the fungus.
I say especially skyscrapers because the ones infected with the fungus always try to get to the top. Seems their brains are hardwired to get up there.
There's a young guy, my new partner, sitting in the next seat as we're rolling into the last hour of our shift. He doesn't have a handle on this job yet, still has that gleam in his eyes as if he is going to singlehandedly change the world. Perhaps I looked like that when I first started.
