Afterglow. The Justification of Chaos - стр. 9

Because taking this kind of reckless risk had two outcomes: on one hand, it could land me by evening in a cell facing a Reaper interrogator. On the other, the fact that the intelligence service was actively working to prevent any information leaks only confirmed its existence here.

We didn’t endure four grueling days on the road, braving barriers, restrictions, and traffic jams, for nothing.

Givori remained stubbornly silent, and I clicked my tongue:

“Do you really think I’d reveal the name of my informant?” He raised an eyebrow, casting a meaningful glance toward the camera in the corner. “Dr. Givori, the country is in panic, and it won’t be long before that panic escalates into uncontrollable chaos. Do we really want another scenario like the southwestern territories?” I said it more to the small, flashing camera in the corner than to the doctor. “Or another situation with aggressive opposition groups? People are terrified. Rumors of an epidemic are spreading everywhere. Loyal citizens need at least some concrete answers, not scraps of gossip that only grow into more horror stories and fabrications. If you know something, it’s a chance to help others. Besides,” I added, “You won’t deny that your patients are in a state teetering on the edge of death and are attacking others, trying…” I paused briefly, taking a deep breath and exhaling almost silently, “…to bite them.”

His response didn’t come immediately. The ticking of the clock seemed louder, and I flinched again, nowcertain I could hear gunshots in the distance.

"I won’t," the man nodded. "And I can tell you one thing: this is clearly not a psychiatric disorder, as many believe," he continued, his voice feigning boredom. Quickly, I pulled a battered leather notebook and pen from the inner pocket of my jacket, ready to jot down every word as he spoke. "First of all, mental illnesses cannot be transmitted from person to person. Second, it’s impossible for so many people to develop the same mental disorder practically at the same time. And third," he continued, "as you rightly pointed out, the carriers are in a state that teeters on the edge of death. And I’ll tell you," Givori’s face twisted with an expression of terror and panic as he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead, "the term ‘on the edge’ is an extreme understatement. Can the equipment really lie to us?"

His face contorted further, reflecting his horror. His voice became hoarse, breaking as he spoke. His fear seeped into me; I could feel it building inside, scratching and twisting.

“A sudden outbreak. One day, everything’s calm, and the next, we have an entire ward full. By the third, police and military are cordoning off entire neighborhoods and districts. Rumor has it special units have arrived in the city. They’re saying… very special units.” He spread his hands, a helpless gesture. “And we, we can’t even take proper samples from the infected… They’re extremely aggressive,” Givori muttered, rubbing his bandaged hand. ”And bloodthirsty. A significant portion of the medical staff has contracted the infection. Five died on the spot from patient attacks. We managed to isolate the infected wing, and now the best specialists and military forces are working there…”