“What do you know about Acute Sensory Paralysis, otherwise known as ASP or the Drop-Outs?”
Being in a white lab-coat, I’m sure this fella thought I would know nothing, that he was the gatekeeper of the medical Pandora’s box and anyone else who dared look inside would only find plague. He was wrong though, it had been my job for almost a decade to know everything and anything related to the Drop-Outs.
If only I could see his face, I’m sure I’d love his shocked reaction, “ASP first surfaced after Event Charlie nearly ten years ago. Preliminary cases came out of eastern Pennsylvania and over the following months reports of the syndrome began appearing along the Coastal Atlantic and Eastern Gulf-Coast cities of the United States.
“ASP is characterized by local nerve damage, a side-effect of microscopic, cancerous and mutagenic tumor growth within areas of the brain that control motor function and stimulus recognition. Individuals suffering an outbreak or a ‘Drop-out’ will appear stunned - a temporary loss of motor function that leaves the patient paralyzed, what some professionals call ‘petrified.’”
Lab Coat was motionless across from me, his eyes hidden behind reflective goggles and his nose and mouth strapped behind a ventilator. A plain yellow #2 was loosely grasped in his right hand, but he wrote nothing. I could see the slight motion of his breathing as his chest rose and fell. Between sentences I imagined the Darth-Vader wheeze and wanted to ask if he was my father.
“Subjects become paralyzed in place, standing like statues while experiencing minor blackouts. In some cases, Drop-Outs have exhibited symptoms for months without being aware of their condition.
“In all reported cases,” I slowly reach inside my coat pocket and draw out a gilded pen, a cheap gold imitation, “the patient’s temporary paralysis, or Drop-Out, is triggered by a specific stimulus, such as this pen.”
I place the pen on the sterile steel table between us.
“If the tumors were to affect an area of the brain specific to the sensory recognition of this object – the way it shines, its shape, whatever – then they would experience an ASP spell and become desensitized to their environment.”
The plain white walls of the room and the featureless surfaces practically shine. One of them is a camouflaged surface, concealing a viewing room where someone is undoubtedly watching us. I don’t want to appear suspicious yet; I casually stretch and push back my chair as I ramble on.
“The duration of the spell is, in controlled test environments, shown to be indefinite. As long as the stimulus remains then the paralysis remains. Unfortunately, for both patients and researchers, there is no known way to determine a Drop-Out’s trigger without their first-hand experience or knowledge of it.”
Gently rising from my seat, I circle the table, leaving the pen at rest. “Overall, ASP can be both a minor nuisance that has no impact on someone’s life,” my silent footsteps carry me behind Lab Coat, “or someone’s most deadly Achilles ’ heel.” Lab Coat’s gaze remains fixed in front of him, his shallow breathing continues but he’s made no attempt to follow my motion.
I’m sure they know what I’m doing now; dozens of boots will be closing in. Grasping at Lab Coat’s face, I rip the mask and goggles off. His pale blue eyes are captured by the pen, his jaw is slack and his nostrils are flaring. All of my experience tells me he cannot process any of these things, he is stuck in the moment of recognition.
No time, I grab up the pen and replace it in my pocket.
One long blink, then panic and his hands probe his face, “What did you do? How did you know?!”
I put my right foot up on the chair, revealing a small caliber hand gun, “True research, fella.” Aiming the gun at his face I’m struck with a sloppy grin, “see you on the other side.”
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