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The White Devil

The White Devil

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The White Devil

81 página
1 hora
Lançado em:
Sep 13, 2012


This is a short novel by science fiction, in which an aggressive computer virus that is transmitted over the Internet affects the behaviour of those who come into contact with it when working with computers. No one knows its origin, although the authorities try to control its spread, with some success at first. But the virus is more dangerous than suspected, and things start to get complicated.
Lançado em:
Sep 13, 2012

Sobre o autor

José Manuel Cano Pavón is PhD and professor of chemistry in the University of Malaga (Spain, Europe). He has published two hundred scientific articles in journals. In the field of literature, he has published twenty novels of different topics: detective, science fiction, historical, and intimate, having received many literary awards. This is his first novel written in English.

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The White Devil - José Manuel Cano Pavón








Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat:

But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,

Thou shalt not eat of it:

For in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

Genesis 2.17


A taxi stops outside the Emergency Room door of the General Hospital. A woman gets out of the right hand side, walks around the vehicle, speaks with the driver and then pays him with a note. The driver gives her the change; she leaves him a tip and then opens the left rear door. She leans in and pulls on the arm of a young man, who exits the vehicle without resistance. Both then move towards the entrance of the Emergency Room. The woman is called Carmen and the boy answers to, or used to answer to, the name Michael. The boy—whom it goes without saying is Carmen’s son—is untidily dressed, something that isn’t unusual when talking about boys little older than 20. What does attract attention—and was noted by the nurses behind the reception desk when they saw him—is his posture. He moved clumsily and seemed bent over as if he had been beaten badly; but his expression was not of pain as one might imagine. Instead it was an expression of absence, dejection and sadness, one of apathy and of being in a world of his own. Carmen gave one of the administrative nurses a document they had given her at the health center a few hours earlier. As the doctor on duty had examined her son, he had barely been able to elicit more than two or three words from him. He had taken her son’s blood pressure: Normal, a little low. He had listened to his chest with a stethoscope: I can’t find anything, maam. After thinking for a second he suggested she take him to the Psychiatric Emergency Room. It seems like some type of depression, although it’s not entirely consistent with that. Perhaps he took some sort of relaxant drug, or perhaps an overdose of anxiety medication. Although that wouldn’t produce this state either. And there, at the entrance to the health center they took a taxi to the Hospital.

The nurse was asking them for information, but only Carmen was able to provide it: "Age, twenty one years old. Occupation:

IT student."

- How long has he been like this?

- Well, since this morning. Although last night he went to bed before he usually does because he said he felt very weak, and I thought he looked a little sad . . .

- Ok, it’s better to tell those details to the doctor.

She gave them a new piece of paper: Go up to the second floor, to Psychiatry, and they will see you there. Carmen again took her son by the arm and obliged him to walk to the lift, rejecting the offer that an orderly take him in a wheelchair. Perhaps it would have been better, but just to see her son in one of those chairs would distress her, as if his condition were something serious and not just a transient state caused by some sort of drug, as she imagined. They went up to the second floor where a nurse, of a similar age to Carmen, directed them to a room with a few chairs.

- Wait here. Doctor Trillo is with another patient at the moment.

It was a prolonged wait. Michael seemed confused, but moreover he seemed extremely tired. He saw no sense to things. He would prefer to urinate himself before he went to the toilet. He did not even want to listen to music (one of his favorite pastimes), nor visit blogs on the Internet. He did not want to dress himself and preferred to lie down. He would not get up to eat, in case they brought meals to his bed. But he didn’t have any appetite. Rather, he felt a certain aversion to food, despite the fact that before yesterday he was a big eater who had the advantage that an excess of food did not influence his weight or figure. He was seated in a chair and thought that all the objects in that room were absurd. They were as useless as certain parts of his body and his worn-out shoes. As useless his mother and the excessive fondness she had for him.

The door of the consultation room opened and a woman of the same age as Carmen came out, accompanied by a young man with similar characteristics to Michael’s. Both women stared at each other. They knew one another but could not put their finger on the reason why. The boys however, began to talk, although without much enthusiasm.

- Do you know each other?—Asked Carmen.

- Yeah Mum, we’re classmates.

The mother of the other boy recognized him and she said to Carmen:

- Of course, you’re Michael’s mother. He and my son Borja are close friends. The day before yesterday they spent the entire afternoon at home on the computer. Mine studies IT too. But since yesterday afternoon he’s been like this, depressed or something. They’re going to admit him for observation. It seems like Michael is in the same state.

- Well, yes. And were the two of them alone?

- No, Serge came over too, another classmate. They had to do an assignment between the three of them and afterwards, according to my son, Serge left and the two of them started to surf the Internet. What I don’t know is if Serge is in the same state. Apparently he’s from another town and he went back to his house for the weekend.

- Could they have taken something? I mean some type of drug or medicine?

- Not in my house. I’m sure of that. I would have realized. But afterwards they went out for a while, although Borja came back quickly.

- Michael too. Then we had dinner just like normal.

- I’m sure they’ll admit him too. I really don’t know what’s happened to them. The doctor doesn’t know either.

A nurse approached the group and told Carmen that they could go in. But before could enter, a young, pleasant-looking doctor came out.

- Excuse me—he said—I heard what

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