Rubberwerks 2 - Part 4

Fordham watched the data scrolling past. The experiment had begun in an unexpected way. All prior experience suggested a complete takeover of the subject. J9, the designation for the resident called Janice Towers, was infected. That much was sure. Yet, she showed no outward sign.

Fordham scrolled through the reports from the last encounter. An entire village consumed in a matter of hours. Was the sentient rubber somehow learning? Had it developed some new strategy to disguise itself?

The video from the village was harrowing. The few survivors chased by the infected until they were cornered and consumed.  What was happening under the dome was not just unexpected, it made the subject more dangerous. If it could plan, hide itself, perhaps it knew it was contained? Might be looking for a way out?

There was simply no way to know. Not yet. J9 showed no signs of physical or mental alteration. So what the hell was the rubber waiting for?

Fordham sat back in the chair and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. How could they possibly understand the machinations of this thing? It was alien, very possibly extraterrestrial, and the one thing they were sure of was that contact meant infection, and quickly. Except now they didn't know that. They were back to square one with their work on a  lifecycle for this thing.

Fordham sighed, sipped her coffee, and made her notes. She had to content herself with observation. The experiment would play itself out at the rubber ooze's pace. And so she, like the rubber itself, waited.

"You don't look so good," Sharon said, punctuating her diagnosis with a bump of her hip against Janice's. With her taller frame, that bump landed more at Janice's waist, but the pixie-ish girl barely seemed to notice, despite listing to the left with the force of the touch.

"What?"

"I think you're coming down with something. You're distracted. And you look a little pale. Normally I like that sort of thing, but you might want to get some rest."

The shop was closed now, the lights of the community creating an oasis of illumination in the jungle. Windows were lit up as the new residents settled into their temporary homes and streetlights made the public areas feel safe and welcoming.

Sharon was sweeping up while Janice took care of the dishes. She was absently swirling a towel inside a coffee mug, staring into space.

"Yeah, sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Being around hundreds of new people..." Sharon shrugged. "Who knows what kind of weird bugs they're carrying. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone got sick the first week."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Janice lied.

"Anyways, why don' you let me finish up down here. You head back to the apartment, and I'll be home shortly. If you feel better, we can try out the bed."

"Yeah. I will," she replied in that same distracted way, not bothering to comment on the lewder suggestion.

Sharon watched her, her hands folded at the crown of the broom handle, while her lover untied a brown-streaked apron and passed by with only the most cursory of kisses before she exited and marched zombie-like toward the apartment building. Sharon watched her go with a swelling worry. Something was decidedly off, and it was hard to mark that up to a virus. She'd never seen Janice so out of it. Yes, a good rest would do a world of good, she told herself, even as part of her grew certain sleep would not fix what ailed Janice.