Ten years ago...
"You will comply," the electronic voice of the alien said through the speakers. The voice sounded like a composite of three or four male and female voices talking in sync. The President of the United States as well as several of his advisors, congressional leadership, and several foreign leaders sat around a table in the White House.
"We are trying to comply," the President said. "You're asking for us to participate in our own extermination, God damnit! You can't blame us for not readily cooperating. And right now, I do not understand what you're asking for us to even do."
"Your cooperation is deemed compassionate," the alien said dispassionately, almost mechanically. "You will comply or we will destroy you by force. Many, many humans will needlessly and horribly suffer. We have the capability of generating a far larger strike than previously released. You have no defense against our technology. You will comply."
"Alright... alright. Tell us again what you want us to do."
"Your scientists will create and release a virus that raises the core temperature of human beings by one point one to one point two degrees Celsius," the alien said. "This virus is to be released in multiple locations to encompass the entire planet within sixty of your days."
"Hell, can we even do that?" the President asked the people in the room. "I'm not sure we can create a virus like that."
"I believe we can, Mr. President," one of the advisors said. "But we'll have to consult with the Infectious Disease guys. We don't want the virus to kill people. And we certainly don't want to cause a panic with some kind of plague."
"You have thirty of your days to begin releasing your virus. At the end of ninety of your days, we will release our virus," the alien said.
"Wait a second... hold on," the President said sternly among the excited mumbling in the room. "You said you wouldn't kill anyone."
"Humans will not die from our virus. Extermination will occur over several generations."
"Several generations," the President said, putting his head in his hands. "God help us."
"You will comply," the alien said.
"Yes... yes... we will comply," the President said. He made a slashing motion across his neck to indicate he wanted the microphone cut, ending the communications.
*****
Present day...
Rebecca Stanley, a report for the Chicago Tribune, looked through her email again. She'd been in communication with someone about the pandemic. It was probably just some conspiracy theorist, she thought, but she figured she should at least check it out. The last communication she had was a week ago.
"I have information that's vital for the future of the human race," she quietly read from the email. "Blah, blah, blah... I need to talk to you face-to-face. Signed Ghost Hunter. Ok, Ghost Hunter... you have my attention. Don't waste my time."
She typed in an email reply, setting up a meeting, as requested, in a public place. She chose the food court at the local mall on Friday at noon... two days away.
*****
On Friday, Rebecca arrived at the mall early, and walked around a little. She was wondering if this Ghost Hunter was there already and if she was checking to make sure the location was safe, too. The food court was slowly filling from the mid-day shoppers and she walked to one of the restaurants and ordered a lunch salad. She sat down at one of the tables and began eating.
Ten minutes later, at exactly noon, a young woman slipped into the seat across from her. "Rebecca Stanley?" she asked.
"Yes. And are you...?"
"Ghost Hunter," Emmanuelle whispered, leaning forward to keep others from hearing her.
"Is there something easier I can call you?" Rebecca asked. "I feel a bit silly calling you that."
Emmanuelle didn't think of that. Yeah... it did sound kind of silly. "Call me Em," she said.
"Em... much easier," Rebecca said. "Ok... I'm all yours. What is this information that you have for me?"
"Have you ever thought about why the international birth rate is so low... or why the incidence of birth defects is so high?" Emmanuelle asked. Rebecca motioned that she hadn't. "Well... I know why. There is an alien parasite that has infected the population. I know it sounds like I'm crazy or something, but I've seen it."
"You've seen it?" Rebecca asked, sounding doubtful. "Do you have any... pictures... or other evidence?"
Em sat forward. "It... for some reason it can't be photographed," she said, sounding frustrated. "You can only see it with your eyes. But..." Emmanuelle opened her purse and pulled out a piece of folded paper and started unfolding it. "I had a friend of mine paint it," she said, showing it to the reporter.
The painting showed the finger-like alien wriggling in its ooze on the floor.
"This is it?" Rebecca asked. "Looks a little scary. How is it causing birth issues though?"
Emmanuelle looked around nervously. "The alien somehow gets into the uterus and the penis and disrupts fertilization somehow. Almost everyone has at least one of these in them. We don't know where they come from or how we get infected. But we know how to get them out of us."
