Interview with a virus

I was exhilarated. My editor had given me one of the choicest assignments which had come across his desk in a decade. It’s not often, when a big, really big, internationally-famous personality comes to our little island, that he delegates the job of covering the story to just any reporter; he usually handles those projects himself.
Yet, here I was, equipped with pencil and paper and my portable recorder, on my way to the hotel to interview Vincent Hivaids the virus, the most feared and powerful individual on the face of the earth. I got there and knocked at the door.
He opened it and stood there for a moment, drinking me in, as though wondering whether to let me in or not. He peered at me through a pair of dark sunglasses (I wondered why he was wearing those indoors) and I took the opportunity to do a little studying of my own.
He was small and short, but I had expected that: comes with being a virus. His skin was pasty-coloured and he was completely bald.
“Mr. Hivaids? I’m Victor, from the VOICE,” I introduced myself.
Seemingly satisfied with his examination of me, he invited me in. He closed the door after taking a furtive look up and down the corridor.
“Can’t be too careful, you know,” he observed as he motioned me to a chair. “You never know where one of those fancy, newfangled miracle drugs may be lurking, just waiting for the chance to pounce. Not that I’m scared of any of them, mind you,” he continued, “I’ve dealt with quite a few of them in my time – any and everything they’ve thrown at me; and I’m still here to tell the tale. It’s only that, sometimes, the struggle to fight them off takes a lot out of a chap; know what I mean?”
“I understand,” I took the proferred chair and declined the offer of a drink. Knowing this chap’s reputation, I was not about to put anything he was dishing out into my body. “So tell me, sir,” getting down to business as soon as he had poured himself a drink and was sitting down, “If I may be so bold, how old are you?”
“Well, it all depends on whom you’re talking to. Some say twenty, maybe thirty years. Some say I’ve been around since Biblical times. There are those who insist that I’ve been lying low for centuries, living with some green monkeys in Africa. I’ll tell you, son: if humans could pinpoint my exact age and origin, that would probably give them a clue as to how they could eliminate me. And you don’t give that kind of information to the enemy, now – do you?
“So as far as age goes, just put down ‘indefinite’. That’s as much as you’ll be getting from me. Next question?”
“What does it feel like, being the most feared individual in the world?”
“Ask Hitler. Ask Attila the Hun. Feels great . You have this feeling of omnipotence, you know. Like you can defeat anything…or anybody. And in my case, no fooling, I can. Me and my boys, we’re going to end up taking over this planet of yours, just wait and see. I remember some distant cousins of mine made a bid for it, in the old days. The Black Plague, they called it, and they began to spread all over Europe.
“But they made a couple of mistakes: for one, as soon as humans found out where they came from, and how they were being spread by rats, their days were numbered. They were eliminated, Poof!-just like that. It was a sad day for the virus. That’s why I’m not telling you my age or origins; for another, they had these ghastly symptoms…sores, rash on the skin – nobody likes that kind of thing. Me, I leave you looking nice, smooth and healthy for years…until it’s too late and you’ve spread me around a little. Then, and only then, do I make my presence felt. That’s when I manifest myself and finish you off in quick time.
“That’s when the real fun begins: lots of pain and suffering, while you waste away; and there’s nothing, nothing, that you or anyone can do about it.”
“So, what’s this business about you and your kind taking over the planet? What’s the motive?”

“Hey, look around you, son. You humans are going to destroy it if something isn’t done, and quickly: pollution; nuclear waste; ozone layer depletion; global warming; polar icecaps melting; extinction of half, if not more, of the world’s animal species…just here in St. Lucia, you’ve done away with the jackspaniards, most butterflies, almost lost the parrot…and the list of crimes goes on.
“If the rest of the world’s animals are to survive, the only species that needs to become extinct, is you,” he leaned back and gave a broad grin. “And that’s where I come in. You guys had your chance. You threw it away, so now, you’re on your way out.” He took a long drink from his glass.
This fellow was beginning to bug me, with his self-satisfied smirk.
“It’s not going to be as easy as you think,” I said, “we humans are a pretty intelligent and resourceful lot, with hundreds of great minds, all over the world, working on ways to defeat you.” I thought that would wipe the grin off his face. Instead, he burst our laughing.
“Listen, son. Let me tell you something you seem unaware of: for every ‘great mind’ you have, or think you have, there’s a million dummies. And there you have my army, in this war. Who do you think is spreading me and my boys all over your planet? People, that’s who. Stupid, moronic people.
“What do your ‘great minds’ say? ‘Abstain; stick to one partner; don’t share needles; wear a condom.’ When last did you wear a condom, son? You’re part of my army, if you don’t do it every time. We can’t infect the entire planet by ourselves. We’d just disappear eventually, if people were smarter. But no, you guys like taking chances. By the way, I’d like you to express my thanks, in your article, to all the imbeciles who have unprotected sex, or who do drugs and share needles. We couldn’t win this war without them.”
I was getting really depressed. I just wanted to end this interview and get out of the room, out into the fresh air.
“Last question: why did you choose St. Lucia for your vacation?”
“You go where you feel wanted and appreciated, sonny. Last year, I was in Africa. Spent a glorious three weeks there. They have the highest incidence of me per capita, in the world. The Caribbean is the second highest; so I came here this year.
“And son, let me tell you, this St. Lucia of yours is Paradise. I may just never leave. The morals in this place…the way that everyone disregards the simplest precautionary measures against me and my boys…that macho sentiment the men and boys have against the use of condoms…son, I just love it!
“Unless there’s a drastic change in the St. Lucian lifestyle in the near future, I’m here to stay!”
I went back to the office in a pensive mood. One thing was clear: Hivaids was winning his war against us, and only because we were helping him to do it.
I read somewhere that, notwithstanding their immense size, the dinosaurs had very tiny brains, and that was one of the factors which contributed to their extinction. In a way, you can say that they just were too darned dumb to go on being the “Masters of the Earth”.
Perhaps it’s our turn now.