Anopheles Gambiae

A flash fiction

by J. Richard Jacobs

Dr. Lo Hung Phat and his young assistant, Shun Yu Mi, were working late. The sun had set but the heat and humidity of the day lingered. Sweat dripped from Dr. Lo’s chin. The shallow glass bowl they were peering into was filled with a thick, sickeningly greenish-yellow fluid skinned over with a dark grey scum. It smelled like long-dead fish. The slimy surface undulated rhythmically. On wide counters lining three walls thousands of other bowls were alive with a similar movement.

“Doctor, the larvae are already going into metamorphosis,” Mi said.

“Yes, I see, Mi. It is amazing how quickly this has happened, but we have done it. Success is ours and the process has taken less than three days. Look, their size is double what I had thought possible. Our illustrious Dear Supreme Leader will be delighted. Come, Mi, let us go to the office for tea to celebrate this great success and escape this oppressive heat, then I shall contact the Ministry of War.”

In the now vacant laboratory, the metamorphosis was completed in less than two hours. That was four days in advance of what Dr. Lo had hoped. The climbed from the bowls and spread their new wings. They flew frenetically in a search of food to sate a newborn hunger for blood but there was nothing. The hunger grew. Hundreds of thousands of the giant creatures coated the white walls with a living, brownish, moving carpet.

***

Phat and Mi sat in the outer office. They luxuriated in the air-conditioned room sipping tea and making small talk interspersed with excited comments about their recent success. Phat squirmed nervously, impatient to make his announcement and detail his plan to bring the enemy to its knees. Just a few balloons and, without spending a single coin on the unreliable and destructive missiles of the military, they would triumph by merely walking in and taking control of a helpless population with all its infrastructure intact. Phat was sure those missiles were more of a danger to themselves than to the enemy. He had seen some of the launches. Balloons were less costly, reliable in the right winds, and would go undetected by the enemies sensors.

“You seem troubled,” Mi said.

“Not troubled, Mi. Anxious.”

“Anxious? About?”

“Moving on to the next stage.”

“I humbly suggest you call the Minister, Doctor.”

Phat gave an economical nod, then flipped open an aged cell phone and savagely poked at numbers on the pad.

***

“Yes, your Excellency, we have. Our work is nearly completed. The carrier, the Anopheles gambiae, has been successful far beyond our humble prediction and is even now going into its metamorphosis. They have all been given the virus and will be ready to deploy by early next week, depending on the weather. The virus I created is debilitating but not lethal and will have the enemy on their knees in three to five weeks. By next week we will have enough of the vaccine to innoculate our people. I believe victory is in your hands.”

A moment passed as Phat listened to the Minister’s response.

“No, your Excellency. There is no danger of the virus becoming airborne. It can only be delivered by a direct bite. We have been careful in assuring it can be transmitted in no other way.”

After another moment, Phat, smiling, folded the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He reached across the table and gripped Mi’s hand. His smile broadened.

“We have done it, Mi. The Minister gave his approval and is contacting our Supreme Dear Leader. The age of Mu Phang has begun. We will undoubtedly be honored, Mi. Maybe they will even give us cars. Maybe nicer apartments.”

Mi grinned his pride.

“Mi, please, open the windows to the laboratory. It is an unbearably hot summer night and we will be working in there until dawn.”

Mi reached over and tapped a button on the wall. The sound of motors opening the windows to the hot, humid night air echoed in the office while Phat and Mi sipped the last of their tea. From the lab, a hungry brown cloud took wing and, on a fresh breeze, drifted away into the darkness.