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LABORATORY REPORT

Science Officer: Gilbert Archer, MD


Matthew Andersen, MD (Assisting)
Incept: 11/21/10

Hour 14
Subject is displaying behavior patterns typical of early Infernus Alpha victims:

• Increased Adrenaline levels


• Heart palpitations/hyperventilation
• Tremors
• General unease/nameless dread
Symptoms typically manifest 12 to 24 hours after initial infection with Alpha strain.
Symptoms of mutated strain (which we have named Infernus Beta) appear to be rapid in
onset- the lastest batch of lab rats Dr. Archer infected displayed psychotic tendencies within
8 hours.
I theorize Infernus Alpha was designed to be spread by initially encouraging minor fear
responses and only debilitates its carrier with time. Initially (and insidiously), victim will seek
out contact with others- particularly loved ones- in an attempt to deal with the dread (like a
frightened infant might seek its mother). The victim often seeks physical comfort (hand
holding, embraces), ultimately increasing the chances of spreading infection.
It’s genius, really. Awful, horrifying genius.

Hour 22
Subject has entered a state of full catatonia. Symptoms include:

• Muscle rictus
• Lowered heart rate and core temperature
• Limited pupillary response
Lack of proper equipment and trained personnel make this theory difficult to confirm, but I
suspect infection initially targets the sensory cortex and not the thalamus, as Dr. Archer
suggested. However, we both agree the effect of amyglada (which decodes emotions and
determines possible threats) is profound- afflicted people will often convince themselves
they are not afflicted, or actively avoid treatment, for fear of punishment/persecution/the
isolation of quarantine.
I had intended to begin comparing the cellular resistance of Alpha and Beta; however one of
the assistants (Lily, lovely girl) dropped an entire batch of Beta-infected bloodwork on the
floor. Glass everywhere.
Not her fault, really- there’s too many of us crowded in here. I was considering sending
them all off to get some sleep, but if we don’t crack this, nobody will.
Besides, it’s good to be around people. The thought of being alone right now is terribly
disconcerting.

Hour 27
Subject is still in state of paralysis. BPM and breathing below half of human norms.
I have reviewed Dr. Archer’s work on the damage the virus inflicts on synaptic vessels
and found several errors.
I swear that man wouldn’t know a hippocampus from a hippopotamus. One would think
since he’s co-authoring this report, he’d spend more time helping with it, instead of
enjoying our good company. Someone more prone to paranoia might suspect he’s
simply looking to steal my work and publish it himself.
Presuming we ever make it to a bloody jump gate.
Presuming they want us to make it to a jump gate.

Hour 28
Subject showing minor muscle movement. Heart rate increased 12 percent in the last 30
minutes. Body’s immune system is fighting the pathogen- as previously surmised, Aplha strain
was never intended to permanently disable victims. Still, Subject is displaying remarkable
resilience for something so inherently weak.
Twenty-three of us packed in this tiny lab. Forty-six eyes. Sweating away in these flimsy
hazmat suits. So thin. So feeble. So little between it and us and us and it.
My foot hurts. My skin itches. Lily asked if I was well. Nosy little slip. None of her
business. Couldn’t tell her, though, no. Smile and nod, smile and nodnodnodnodnod.
One of the assistants (can’t remember his name- Albert?) talks to himself beneath his
breath as he works. Thinks no one can hear him but I can.
I hear
I see
Oh God.

Hour 29
Archer finally back in the lab.
I wonder if he had time to shower.
Wonder if I’d smell his stink if I peeled that suit open.
He’s off dining in Axel’s quarters and whispering his lies about me and meanwhile I’m
stuck down here with these ignorant monkeys muttering to themselves and fucking
each other with their eyes and all the while things are getting worse and no one is doing
anything to stop it but me.
Lily is looking at me again. With those pretty blue eyes things floating in her head.
Stop looking at me.

Hour 30
STOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATME
STOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMESTOPLOOKINGATMEYOUFI
LTHYFUCKINGSHIT
Hello! By the way, this is just a briefing note, that the laboratory report above is all from
The Illuminae Files novel (Illuminae), so the credits all for Amie Kaufman and Jay
Kristoff! I only change the name of the illness and the science officer’s names.
Everything is purely from the novel, I took it for my daughter’s idea plot, so I don’t own
that Report, thanks for understanding! :)