• Light filtered through the translucent window. Dawn filled the sky beyond with pinks, blues, and oranges, coloring the frosted glass a dazzling array of colors. It was year 2201, the Year of the Plague. An illness had spread over the world, causing millions to die every day, like the flames of candles set out in a thunderstorm. The sickness began like a cold or flu virus, but grew in strength, its symptoms varying from sneezing to vomiting, from headaches to muscle aches. No one had ever found the cure, until this very day.

    The laboratory was like any other lab, drab, gray, and unspeakably sanitary. One window graced the uniform walls, allowing natural light to seep in during the day. Tables were scattered throughout the vast room; some occupied by empty glasses, some by various test tubes or beakers. Chemicals bubbled and hissed. A white lab coat was thrown over a chair that rolled across the floor. The floor was covered by white tiles; even these were cleaner than a hospital room. A girl stood by one of the tables, tinkering with one of the test tubes’ contents. She was a girl of slight build, thin and tall. The tide of lush black hair fell across her left shoulder, tickling the table’s dusty speckled gray top. She wore a white lab coat over her light gray shirt and black jeans. Slim goggles protected her glass blue eyes from the harsh chemicals.

    Beside the fourteen-year-old stood a man that towered at least one foot above her five foot frame. His black hair cut in a military fashion, he stood, arms crossed, a large silent guardian. A tight fitting black shirt outlined his finely muscled chest. He wore black pants and a thick belt was wrapped around his waist, a large handgun resting in its holster. His hard, green gaze swept across the laboratory, taking every detail, every flickering shadow under the artificial lights. His square jaw was set firm. He looked every inch a bodyguard.

    “John, could you please fetch test tube number seventy-six?” the girl ordered in her low soprano voice. The man uncrossed his thick arms and stiffly turned to another table by the thundercloud gray door. He retrieved a glass tube that contained a sticky blue substance. He stalked back over to the girl’s table.

    “Here you are, Miss Jones,” his voice a practiced even tone. He went back to his original position. The girl nodded her thanks and turned back to the tube in front of her, which contained a thin, runny crimson liquid. She leaned over the tube and slowly began to pour the azure substance into the tube cylinder with the scarlet liquid. Working quickly, she produced a beaker from one of the large pockets in the lab coat and placed it upside down on top of the tube’s mouth, to capture the purple smoke that puffed out of the sizzling liquid. Finally, the solution calmed to a distinct hiss. The girl smiled as she sealed the beaker containing the smoke with a rubber ring. There was a celebration at Miss Marie Fiona Jones’s laboratory that night.

    “We did it, John! We finally found the cure!”

    ***

    Miles from Miss Jones’s lab, a small, dilapidated trailer sat in the chilly November air. Trees surrounding the trailer were falling asleep beneath above blankets of their own leaves. The stench of sickness saturated the air. No birds twittered happily on the branches, not even one. Silence accompanied the stench.

    A boy sat on a century old rocking chair made of hard wood. He ran his pale fingers through his disheveled auburn hair. His thin body suddenly shook violently as a spasm of coughing interrupted his star gazing. His hazel eyes instantly closed as he fought to regain control of his breathing. When he finally was able to find his breath, he stared up at the stars, his wide, large, almond shaped eyes surveying the sky as a thirteen-year-old would. He frowned as he saw a security hover camera float by. The government was watching. Every area containing the illness was watched twenty-four-seven.

    If only there was a cure… the child thought. Ever since the famed girl genius, Marie Jones, had come up with the Studentizer… bad name, he thought, but the machine had caused all children to learn all they needed to know, school had been shut down. Everyday life became getting ready for mom and dad to get home from work. Child labor laws were still in place from two centuries ago, so all kids were to stay home or whatever their parents decided.

    Christopher, the child, sat back in his rocking chair and observed the government hover camera as it floated down the deserted dirt road. A small bridge spanned a trickling creek some ways down the road. The boy leaned forward once again as he followed the camera’s path down to the little bridge. He sighed as it was lost to sight, only to be racked with coughing yet again. It was going to be a long night.

    ***

    “Oh, John… But-” Marie broke off into a fit of coughing. She was forced to sit down. John, her bodyguard, handed her a tissue. The girl sneezed and nodded. John’s hard gaze softened a little as Marie sneezed into the tissue. She balled it up and threw it into the trash receptacle. She fingered the violet, cloudy beaker and sighed, frustration edging into her voice.

    “Oh, John… What should I do? I have the antidote to this… this poison for the world, but…” She held her head in her hands and gave an exasperated sigh. John turned and flipped a switch. A large plasma screen flickered to life.

    “Look, Marie. There are children dying of this sickness.” His tone was now fatherly yet commanding. On the screen was a boy of age thirteen. His sandy hair was untidy and his large, almond shaped hazel eyes were wide and sunken. There were black shadows under them. His skin was a sickly pale porcelain color. He was staring straight at the camera. Marie sat up straight, surprised.

    “But John-”

    “I know. But if you don’t distribute the vaccine, he will die along with the thousands of others.” Marie fell silent, considering her bodyguard’s point.

    “But what would the healthier people do without me?”

    “They will cope.” Marie quieted again. She furrowed her brow in a thoughtful frown. A spasm of coughing caused her to double over in pain. A few specks of blood dotted the white tiles, but only for a second, the floor absorbed the blood.     The two were silent for a couple moments.

    “Marie, think about it. Is your life more important than a million others?” John waited for an answer as Marie bit her lip.

    “No.” She sighed. “I was being… stubborn, but what about JonesCorp?”

    “It will cope. Marie, understand that this is for the greater good.” John sighed. “Sometimes you are more immature than a two-year-old.” Insulted, Marie stood up and stamped her foot.

    “I will not be called a two-year-old!”

    “Listen to yourself.” Marie fell silent yet again.

    “Oh. Wow. I guess that was a bit… juvenile.” She paced around the table. “I mean, what will happen to all the income? The money? The massive, expensive programs we started? The Global Cooling project?” She stopped in her tracks and turned towards John. “What will happen to the Global Cooling project?”

    “Nothing will halt all because of you, Miss Jones.” He had called her by her last name. He must be getting kind of ticked off at me… The thought ran through Marie’s head as she glared at John.

    “Listen to yourself, Marie.” His ambiance softened again.     Another spasm of coughing interrupted their conversation. John patiently waited for Marie to regain control of her breathing. She stood staring at the wall.

    “I don’t know what to do. Whatever I do, something important falls…” Her voice trailed away. She sat down again, slumping forward. “I just don’t know what to do…”

    “Marie?”

    “Yes John?” Her voice was weak.

    “Do I have your permission to distribute it?” Silence. “Miss Jones?” Again, silence. John approached the limp form leaning on the table. “Daughter?”

    ***

    John stood with his arms down at his sides and head bowed. He quickly wiped a tear from his green eye. Instead of his regular black outfit, he wore a midnight black suit. He sighed and turned towards the crowd.

    “I have known her since her birth. I stood by and watched another raise her. She was the only family I had left. Once I received news that she had passed through school as if it was air, and that she had already graduated college by the age of eight, I was overjoyed. I signed up to be her bodyguard and had never left her side. After one of the first assassination attempts was thwarted, I came to realize that she had no idea exactly who I was. She had no idea that Johnathon Jones was her father. I loved her, though, even if she had no clue to who I was.

    “Years went by, and finally, 2201 finally came with the Plague; it was so terrible. Even to this day, I wonder what would have happened if Marie Fiona Jones had lived through to 2202, the Year of Sorrows, if she had survived the Plague. I remember those last few minutes, as strong as if it were yesterday. We argued about JonesCorp and what would’ve happened if she had taken the vaccine for herself…” He trailed off, tears choking him. “One year ago, we had argued for the first time. Exactly one year ago, we had fought for the first and last time.

    “At first, after she died right before my very eyes, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that she had choked on her own blood, that she was gone, just like that. But then I slowly came to. I slowly started to recognize her death as a heroic act to save our world from destruction by the Plague. I am hoping that in the years to come, the Science Days, as a memorial of this valiant girl, continue on to remind us that it takes just one person, one selfless person, to change a place as big as Earth. Thank you.”     He backed off from the mike as balloons were released and streamers flied into the open blue skies. The millions of people cheered as a banner was raised. It said, “’Together, we change the planet. Together, we hold onto hope. Together, we can save the dying.’ ~ Marie Fiona Jones.”