Paradesia Lost

Vera smiled and gave a pronounced wave of her hand as she stepped out onto the palace balcony. With a roar, cheers from the crowded square below rose at her presence. There was a sweet scent in the air, but it seemed sickly to her. Her thoughts bore a tremendous burden, one she hid well behind her smiling veneer.

“Welcome,” she said. “It gladdens me to see the great people of Paradesia,” she lied.

The crowds shifted in anticipation as their queen spoke. There was not room enough for everyone in the sacred square, so some floating platforms had been brought in for this address. Fear had found its way into the realm, and Vera knew she had to acknowledge it.

“For days, there have been rumors of an illness among our people. One that could not be tamed nor cured by even our greatest scientists.”

The crowd held a collective breath, this was not what they had hoped to hear, but they waited for their queen to continue.

“I Vera Paradesia, give you my word, we will not be beaten!”

The collective breath unleashed in another, greater, roar of cheers. Long live, and, Hail the, could be heard spotted about the crowd. The floating platforms shifted slightly under the weight of the moving masses. Vera smiled, assured that she held the faith of her people, all the while she crumbled on the inside, knowing full well her nice words meant nothing.

There was a meeting inside the great hall just the day before. Meetings in the hall were not always private, but this one was. This meeting had to be private because it had borne the truth, a truth that Vera was not yet certain if she could say. There, along with Vera and her advisors, the realm's most accomplished medical scientists laid out their collective findings. They each concluded with the same, that their studies were dire, yet inconclusive.

“What do we do?” Vera had asked, then more importantly, “What can we do?”

She was seated, as she normally was, at a table flanked by advisors. Two of the advisors, which were seated almost directly next to her, were of special importance. This was denoted in their position at the table which showed a near-equal prominence with the queen.

“I fear we must tell the people of this news. It is only a matter of time before the direst of scenarios comes to pass. By then, there will be no hiding from it,” a woman in a grey robe seated directly to the queen's left said.

“Are you mad?!” a man in the opposite seat wearing a tight-fitting white outfit snapped. “Panic, that is all they will give you in return for the truth. While it doesn’t look good, we still know very little. As long as there is hope, we should not make our people believe it is the end.”

These two, the woman in grey and the man in white, were the arbiters of Paradesia. They often disagreed on subjects, but, they were the truest of authority when unified. They could even outstrip the word of the queen if united.

“Hiding the truth is reckless,” the woman in grey argued. “Would you not want to know the truth?”

“I would, anyone would,” the man in white admitted. “A person can do a lot with information. They can prepare, make wise decisions, and set their affairs straight. But we are not dealing with a person, we are dealing with the masses. Put the masses together with the truth and all you will get in return from them is their collective panic, anxiety, and fears. It will fester and grow in them until there is anarchy.”

“Your words hold a truth that assumes the worst in our collective people,” the woman in grey retorted. “I pray that we have a solution and that lives are saved. But, it is our moral obligation to make them aware of the situation that they are in, or rather, the situation that we are all in together.”

“Very well,” Vera said, cutting the debate short. “I will have to think about this as it seems the decision will fall to me.”

Vera knew neither of the arbiters would be swayed, normally this was a benefit to her, she was allowed to decide. But now, at this time, against this, the greatest of enemies, Vera had hoped her voice would have been quieted by the unity of the elder arbiters.

Vera spent the rest of that day going about the palace grounds, doing her best to observe the people from a distance. She wondered what each person she saw would want, if they would desire truth or blissful ignorance? She went to the palace infirmary where her own daughter had been quarantined. One day was not a lot of time to make a decision, and today she was still undecided as she now stood on the balcony above the palace square speaking to her people.

“But, our victory will have a cost,” Vera continued, her thoughts drifted away from her and rested on her child. “I…” she paused.

How many of them would be made to suffer, she wondered, all children of hers in a way. They looked up to her, to her strength, just as they had looked to her mother before her. Now, if she were to leave them, she feared that there would be a hole where her daughter was supposed to stand. Vera glanced to the arbiters who stood just behind her on the balcony. She nodded to the woman in grey and gave an apologetic look to the man in white. He frowned, knowing what was coming next.

“I must be forthright,” Vera said as she pulled an electronic datapad out of a fold in her dress. “You deserve the truth from me, but I must ask something from you first. There are those who have counseled me to not disclose the truth. I ask that you have faith in our abilities to meet the current challenge and remain calm.”

A murmur came up from the crowd, confusion, fear. It was what the arbiter in white had warned her against. But Vera knew she had gone too far to pull back from the truth now. Opening the datapad she selected one of the interviews with a doctor from the private meeting that had taken place in the great hall from the day before.

Suddenly, above the square, a projection of a woman flashed into view. It was several stories tall, larger than the palace itself, large enough for everyone to see clearly. On every screen, every device, and from a multitude of smaller projections across the floating platforms and throughout the palace grounds, the same woman was seen.

“Please identify yourself and your station,” Vera’s recorded voice said over the speakers.

“I am Dr. Kallis, chief officer at the ministry of health,” the woman in the hologram replied.

“Thank you for conferencing in remotely,” the arbiter in grey had said. “We understand you have been exposed to the virus, what can you tell us about it.”

“We know it was made by accident by a pharmaceutical group. They had been experimenting with viral genetic manipulations. Their original virus was designed to die out shortly after exposure to eliminate the possibility of contagion,” the hologram of Dr. Kallis answered.

“What happened?” the arbiter in white was heard asking.

“They created several variations of the virus, each one designed to elicit a different color,” the hologram said.

“Color?” Vera questioned.

“Yes, the original intention for the virus was to cosmetically alter the color of a person’s iris. The design is quite genius, to be honest. However, one color seems to have been the source of the current outbreak,” Dr. Kallis explained.

The crowd seemed to be frozen as they watched the recording of the doctor’s interview. With each word, an unsettling truth was uncovered. They held on to a collective silence, listening intently.

“There was a flaw in the viral strain meant to turn the iris gold. This flaw altered the virus and allowed its genetic material to mutate.”

“What does this mean?” the arbiter in grey asked as the recording continued.

“It can now survive outside of a human host. It is highly infectious and resistant to extreme temperatures and known treatments. At last check, our study was inconclusive. At our lab, we took a sample of the virus and left it in a contained environment that simulates a natural space. That was two weeks ago, the virus is still present there as of today. It has been detected within the test environment’s surfaces and air particulates. It almost seems as if it managed to multiply without a host somehow.”

“What are the symptoms?” the arbiter in white asked.

“I am afraid the symptoms are progressive,” the doctor said.

The hologram shifted, closing in on Dr. Kallis’ eye. A hint of gold shone in the projected image.

“As you know, those infected begin to develop a change in eye color to gold within hours. Soon after, they experience muscle fatigue, general weakness, and episodes of regional paralysis. All of our advanced-stage patients have slipped into comas and are on life support now. Oddly enough, their eyes remain wide open.

"With the council’s permission, we have tested a variety of therapies and medications, but nothing has shown any sign of reversing any of the symptoms at this time. We have managed to slow it and are hoping to isolate it and find a cure soon.”

“Though this news is grave, I thank you for your expertise,” the queen said as the recording ended.

Vera imagined how the crowd might react when the recording was over, but she did not stay to observe. She was walking towards the palace infirmary long before it had finished playing. She was going to where her daughter was. The arbiters were left to speak, to offer their guidance as they saw fit. Vera wondered if she had done what was right.

With her hand pressed to the glass of the infrimary, she let herself breathe deeply. She was so used to holding everything in that she did not quite know how to let it out. Her daughter was staring back at her, but Vera knew she was not there. Just blank golden eyes like all the others trapped in the same state of coma.

For the first time in her one hundred and thirty-seven-year rule, she was afraid. And in the 138th year of her rule, the planet fell quiet. Off-world travel had been banned, and those in the colonies on other planets received fewer and fewer updates from their homeworld until the communications stopped altogether.

The final edict had gone out on all channels to each colony and military post, one last instruction. Do not return, Paradesia is lost. Then it was silent.

To this day, the planetary defense remains online. It was given one final order to contain the virus, and no ship has ever made it back.