“Bullshit!” I clenched my fists. “You were researching the symbiont without my approval–or even my knowledge–and I have every right to know what you were doing!”
“You’re on a need-to-know basis here,” the asshole-in-charge said, “That research has nothing to do with the break-in, so it’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business!” I forced myself to take a deep breath. Getting angry wouldn’t solve anything. “Don’t you know who I am? Those samples–”
“I know perfectly well who–and what–you are.” He glared at me. “And that’s precisely why I don’t want you messing around with this research.”
Great. I sighed. This again.
A lot of people think I’m the last person who should ever be in charge of the symbiont samples. They don’t trust me. They’re afraid I’m going to infect people with it. I can’t blame them for being afraid; the symbiont scares me, too, just for different reasons.
Fear exists to keep us safe. To ensure we take precautions. It’s good that people are afraid. But it’s not the symbiont they should fear; it’s people.
In its current state, the symbiont isn’t contagious, and it actually benefits the host. Makes them stronger, smarter, more resistant to infection, all kinds of cool things. Sounds good, right? Not if a brutal dictator uses it to enhance their soldiers.
It’s an incredible scientific discovery, with applications both good and bad. My role is to ensure we use it responsibly, for the good of all.
“You leave me no choice.” I stood up. “I’m going to have to report you. Open an official investigation into this whole facility. Every little secret you’re keeping, every unapproved research program, everything will be revealed, and you’ll spend the rest of your life locked up.” I smiled wickedly. “Or perhaps they’ll just execute you. Going rogue with the symbiont? Could be considered treason. And when you hang, you’ll look back on this day and wish you’d just come clean. The last thought you’ll ever have. As you enter the empty void of death.”