then drifted back to her daughter. A teenage girl should not look like this! What right did AIDS have to rob a person of his or her life? Dawn should be giggling with girlfriends about boys or playing soccer, anything but this. Once thick and full now mottled and dull, long brown hair framed the young girl's emaciated face. What used to be healthy skin was now sallow and blotchy. Beautiful hazel eyes had transformed into dark sunken pits, eyes that no longer held sparkle. Verity's vision blurred as water formed in her eyes, obscuring her daughter's features. She did not blink, and a single tear leaked languidly out of her eye and slowly made its way down her cheek before falling on the crisp, sterile bed sheets that enrobed Dawn. Turning to leave, Verity briefly squeezed her daughter's fingers and was reassured by their warmth.
"One more day," she whispered gently into her daughter's ear, " just give me one more day and AIDS shall never rob again."
As Verity stared out the window of the hover transport bus, the white concrete shell of the Comtech Pavilion swam into view. She signaled for a stop and hopped, slightly awkwardly, out of the vehicle. Business suits, she thought to herself, were definitely not designed for hopping. Once inside the Pavilion, Verity was greeted by a series of export modules. She stepped into the first one and was briskly transported to the Conference Room where she was greeted by a large board of directors. She hadn't realized there would be this many people. Usually conferences were held over telecomm. Pushing nervousness aside, she thought of Dawn, took a deep breath, and began:
"Presidents of the FDA (Food and Drug Association) and the WPCO (World Population Crisis Organization) and counsel of the United Nations, as you know, my name is Verity Sieger; I am a leading researcher for the Center of Disease and Control. I am here to continue my proposal of the approval and legalization of what I call the GAI, or the Genetic Alteration of the human Immune system. As stated in the preceding documents you received three months ago via a personalized telecom, GAI has been bio-engineered and is a proven safe and effective treatment for the virus known as AIDS."
A man with silver hair and sharp, chiseled features, the president of the WPCO, rose and spoke emphatically into his telecom. "Ms. Sieger, your 'cure' is an extraordinary medical and technological breakthrough beyond that of many of our wildest dreams, and the board agrees that this advancement in science would be welcome by many. However, you must realize that if you were to distribute this cure, and it was effective the population would surpass a level sustainable by the earth. The world population has already hit 11 billion more than 50 years before experts predicted. As you can imagine, we are experiencing great difficulty in supplying the current world population with adequate resources. Without AIDS, there would be 5 billion more individuals to share this planet with. Because the majority of those infected with AIDS become so because of their immoral behavior, we feel that those individuals are expendable. After much debating, the board has come to the conclusion that it would be better for the whole of society if your cure was not distributed."
The effect of the president's words took Verity by force. "Don't you realize what you're saying!" she stammered hoarsely, still taken aback. "There are billions of people out there who are wasting away to nothing, whom you say are expendable! The typical AIDS patient is not an amoral person as you may have been led to believe. Some of the most promising individuals will never have the chance to contribute to society because the HIV virus has taken over their life! By not legalizing this cure, you are letting billions of people die! You are killing them!"
"I'm sorry Ms. Sieger, but our decision is final."
Verity couldn't believe her ears. Never, in the history of medicine, had a working cure for a devastating disease been rejected. But behind her fortitude of outrage, she could sense that this decision had been made uneasily, with much trepidation.
Speechless, Verity left the conference. The spirited ambition with which she had entered the Pavilion had been left there. There was nothing she could do. She had failed. She thought of her daughter who lay dying in a hospital bed. Dying of a disease that she had the cure to, but could not administer, not legally.
Verity ran down the corridor toward the lab where the serum for the GAI was located, her long legs racing against time. They would know, she thought. They would guess that the researcher wouldn't just let her daughter die of a disease she had the cure for. She just hoped that she reached it before they did. Wildly apprehensive and out of breath, she reached the end of the hall and slammed her hand against the scan-droid security system. After what seemed a millennia, the droid allowed her entrance and she slid into the lab, gulping air, as hermetically sealed doors closed slowly behind her.
Directly in front of Verity, fixated in place with electro-magnets and shielded behind glass, were six ejective vials, each containing .0025 milligrams of milky white serum. With trembling fingers, Verity let down the shield and felt her hand close tightly around the first vial. Slipping it carefully into a hidden inner pocket in her jacket, she reached for the second vial.
"Ms. Sieger," purred a familiar voice. An unseen hand caught Verity off guard, slamming her painfully against the unforgiving glass. "What a pleasant surprise, I thought I'd find you here," the voice went on dangerously. I must say, it's people like you who will cause the degradation of this planet. Suddenly, over the throbbing of her head, Verity recognized the speaker. It was the man whom had delivered the board's decision at the conference.
"Cause the degradation of the planet? I don't understand," Verity admitted, still shocked and confused.
"'HIV's' don't deserve to live, Ms. Sieger, their own immoral decisions are what causes them to be infected with AIDS. They are the trash of our society, using up valuable resources that should be given to superior individuals. I can't allow you to distribute a cure that would eliminate the one factor that has kept the population from exploding."
She looked at him, disgusted. "What you are talking about is ethic superiority; it doesn't exist," she spat. "Prejudices have always been an ugly stain on the world's history, but what you speak of is beyond that. I had never imagined that society could stoop so low as to discriminate a person because they are inflicted with a disease." Withholding a cure for AIDS is not the solution to the population crisis. The two are on entirely different levels!"
"You're wrong Verity, he replied calmly, "they are one in the same." In one smooth, deliberate motion he released Verity, reached into his pocket and produced an atomizer which he aimed at the row of vials only a few feet away.
"No!" Verity screamed, but it was too late. Eyes wide with horror, she stared dumbfounded at the empty space which had held five vials of serum only moments before. With no emotion showing, the man turned and left, leaving Verity in stunned silence. Instinctively, her hand traveled to her jacket pocket where her fingers curled protectively around the one remaining vial of serum. She closed her eyes. "Dawn," she thought.
Verity looked beside her and smiled at the young girl who was, somewhat clumsily, trying to become reacquainted with her legs after being confined to bed for months. Glancing up from her concentration, Dawn returned a grin. Mother and daughter continued to walk hand in hand down the illuminated corridor; the silence between them was a comfortable one. Verity remembered back six months when Dawn had been admitted to the Providence Biocenter as an AIDS patient. Dawn had been 11 years old when she contracted the HIV virus, which was most likely the cause of an unscreened blood transfusion, though the local hospital denied it. To be finally leaving the center with her daughter, healthy and at her side, was inexplicable joy. But there was a heaviness in her heart -- her daughter had been cured of AIDS illegally, and there were still billions of others tugging at her soul who needed her help. Help that she had no power to offer. One miracle could slip by unnoticed, but billions? A small vial containing a few drops of serum concealed in her hand, a new Dawn was led into the morning sun.
