The Viral Video

Wilmington, Delaware 2050

“It’s not about that,” Dr. Gliese Reddington of New Sweden University fired back at her husband. She had eyes like fresh cut stone and skin the shade of lilies. Wilmington Stock Exchange (WiSE) hedge fund manager Kenyon Reddington had skin the color of midnight.

“I’m just saying, they tried this before. I’m sure you remember the woman back in the twenties. She wanted to do the same thing. They banned the entire practice for fear that someone might copy her.”

“Of course I do. She’s a heroine. I’m doing it anyway. I’ve got the research. And it’s on me. I’m not testing animals, yet, or any other living human being or anything. The ethics remain the same. It is selfish, that’s why they don’t like it.” They both prepared to go to an opera at the Mercier Hotel Theater that evening. She wore a smart salmon colored gown and Reddington sported a tuxedo with white tie and tails.

Gliese continued. “I already know the hell of chemotherapy. I’ve been there and I’m not going back.”

Reddington sprayed some cologne. “I think you are right. There is a way that you should be able to treat your own cancer. However––”

“I knew there’d be a ‘however,’” Gilese interjected.

“However, you have to see why this is so dangerous. Nobody’s going to want to publish your results in any of the journals. It all boils down to ethics.”

“Yes, ethics,” Gilese repeated. “The ethics of possibly saving millions of lives because of my own selfish research. C’mon, Ken! That’s the whole point. This is self-interested therefore it must be dirty or vile. We’re both egoists. The world hasn’t changed much, sadly, from that time period. The increase in faiths and political movements around the world and their mysticism, collectivism, and altruism have plagued us for years.”

“I understand that. That’s why we’re fighting. I just don’t want to see a brilliant virologist get so close to the sun and then think about putting sunblock on her wings when it's too late.”

“You won’t have to worry about me. Icarus was about hubris. I’m about ambition.”

“What is it that you want to prove…ethically?”

“I want to show that you are the master over your own mind and body. If someone wants to experiment on themselves with a specific drug or a procedure, they should have every right to do so,” Gilese said.

“Here’s a thought…why don’t you use your video contacts to record the entire thing. From start to finish.”

Gilese brightened and a smile ran across her face. She looked at her husband.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll use cover below the injection site and broadcast to the whole world. Thank you, bundt cake,” she mentioned his nickname for him.

“Anytime, Like-Earth,” his name for her, playing on her given name.

“We’ve got time before the opera. We can sketch out an entire log from the first injection to the process of dealing with mild flu-like symptoms,” Gilese announced.

“As I’ve said, no one cares about the fact you’re using viruses to treat yourself. It’s going to be a case of morality, through and through,” Reddington reminded.

“I got that. The thing is, I’m going to have to show to the Wellness and Awareness Administration (WAA) that this is safe, that anyone who has the means and the ability to do it should be able to work on themselves at least. In following trials, there should be the willingness to be treated for this horrific and devastating malady.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Alright, I’m using my video contacts. This is Day One. I’m currently live broadcasting from my laboratory.”

Reddington sat at his virtual desk and watched with his own video contacts his wife go through the challenge of injecting a virus into her tumor. The video had gained steam. Eleven million people watched as she went through the task of administering her own treatment.

“It’s the measles virus that often appears in children. I’m now injecting that directly into the tumor,” she guided her audience. “That wraps up Day One. I’m going to be taking some anti-cancer drugs and keep fighting for self-experimentation.Thank you. Bye!” She clicked off her video with a blink of an eye.

A MONTH LATER

“Ken, I can’t get this thing published. Why does it take the ‘bravery’ of an editor to publish the findings of something this crucial?”

Kenyon kissed her forehead and then tasted her lipstick. “We’re still in a world where the individual is repressed by the ravaging spirit of the conformist. If one editor wishes to not post your findings, it’s like everyone else has to follow them in an act of unselfishness, selflessness or cowardice. Which are all the same.”

“I just need someone to publish my findings. Hell, I’ll start my own journal and create my own record of my work.”

“Wasn’t that what the log was for in all of this?” Ken asked.

“Of course. It won’t be as official but it does demonstrate the entire procedure from start to finish. I was just so busy recording my days trying to find a place to publish. The log speaks for itself. It shows everything.”

“At this moment, we have already witnessed the deaths of a multitude of people,” Ken intoned with gravitas. “I think there is going to be a way for us to show to the entire world what we have here. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Gilese’s face looked like a strawberry. “Ken, what the hell? You’ve known me all of these years. It’s like you don’t even know your own wife sometimes. I’m going to get hurt for certain! I’m already almost crushed by the lack of support in the medical journal realm.”

“I’m still trying to keep your mind together as you work on your body. That’s all.”

She moved closer to him and kissed him. “I don’t have to be incubated by my own husband. I’m going to explore and search and find everything I can until this goddamn scourge is forever relegated to medical history books.”

She stormed out of their bedroom and entered the makeshift editing suite that provided her with a way of reviewing all of the footage captured that did not go live. A tear streaked her face. She smiled and laughed a silent, broken guffaw. She noted how twelve editors rejected her. The thirteenth one had made a breakthrough with her ability to see reason, individualism, and capitalism.

“Ken! Come here, look at this!”

Reddington strolled up to the suite. At the editing bay, he saw his wife grinning. He looked up with his video contacts. He cracked a smile.

They both saw the influx of academic publications willing to publish Gilese’s work after the breakthrough. They embraced.