"Mahabbah" by Logan Thrasher Collins
If you could end all wars by releasing a virus into society, would you do it?
NEWS:
After Dinner Conversation is now offering advertising opportunities right here on Substack, as well as in the magazine and on our social media platforms. Here are the details.
Volunteer as an acquisition reader and help us decide which story submissions get published. No experience required, just a keen eye for stories that make you think. If you’re interested, just shoot Kolby an email and he’ll get you set up.
Educators, find out how to get a free copy of a themed edition.
If you enjoy these stories and want to support writers and what we do, you can always subscribe to our monthly magazine via our website (digital or print), or via substack.
Also check out our free partner ebook downloads.
Thanks for reading, sharing, and re-stacking this post!
Tina
Take the poll for this week’s story, “Mahabbah”:
(It’s completely anonymous…and fun!)
Last week’s poll results:
Mahabbah by Logan Thrasher Collins
“I know this might sound kind of wild, but I’ve got a plan to save the world,” Jacqueline said to Aziz, gazing at him with her vivid blue eyes. They were out to lunch at Al Jyr, sitting beside a window. Their table sported a vase filled with azure hyacinths and the window overlooked a dusty street several floors below. “You see, I made a new type of virus that… well, it changes people for the better.” Jacqueline continued, “The virus edits a few genes, rewires some neurons, and changes the levels of some hormones. It turns us humans from nasty tribalists into far more compassionate people.”
“You’re kidding.” Aziz smiled.
“No, really!” Jacqueline insisted. “There’s been a lot of hatred, cruelty, and pain all over the world. I think this virus is gonna fix things. I call it Mahabbah and its name means love.”
“Okay… really?” Aziz’s playful smile faded. “I mean, really?”
“Yes. I built a virus in the lab that increases people’s empathy. I’ve tested it on the monkeys. Had to pretend that I was doing something else to keep folks from finding out though. That’s the other thing… I’m planning on releasing Mahabbah myself. You know how conservative people are about this stuff. I mean, I realize Fakhoury is a lot better about women’s rights and freedom of religion and all that than the rest of the Middle East and even the rest of the world for that matter. But still, something as radical as Mahabbah would never get off the ground if I told people about it.”
“So why are you telling me?” Aziz asked, sitting back in his chair and trying to absorb what he was hearing. “I mean… aren’t you worried I’ll report you?”
“Well, I feel like I can trust you.” Aziz thought about it for a few moments. He looked at Jacqueline and felt a rush of warmth. He had known her since his first year as a graduate student at Fakhoury University. He recalled a time when they had sat on the edge of a fountain after their seminars had finished. Jacqueline had taken off her shoes and swung her feet into the water. She had invited him to do the same. He had protested at first, but her bright enthusiasm had soon induced him to laugh and follow suit.
“Okay, so you can trust me,” he admitted. “But I do have some questions. First of all, if you’ve only tested it on marmosets, how do you know it’s safe for humans?”
“I thought you might say that. I’ve got a version that can’t spread between people… and I have actually tested it on one human being. I infected myself two weeks ago.”
“Oh my gosh, are you… are you okay?”
“So far so good,” Jacqueline told him. “I’ve been performing a variety of medical tests on myself. The virus seems safe to use on humans. That said, even though a whole series of clinical trials isn’t really practical if we want to keep this a secret, I want to have at least one more test subject.” Aziz pondered her words for a moment as he looked out the window at the ornately painted building across the street.
“I suppose you want me to be the next test subject?” he asked. Jacqueline nodded.
“I’ll need some time to think about it of course,” Aziz told her.
“Of course.” Jacqueline smiled wryly. “It’s a big decision.”
The next day, Aziz had difficulty focusing on the morning lecture in his Middle Eastern literature seminar at Fakhoury University. He stared straight through the professor, a middle-aged man with a thick black beard, not hearing the words of the lecture. Light from the hot desert sun outside poured through a row of windows at one side of the room, causing the classroom to get uncomfortably warm.
Aziz thought about Jaqueline’s plan, wondering if he was crazy to consider going along with it. He had seen Jacqueline demonstrate brilliance many times, not just in engineering, but also in her capacity for kindness. He recalled one time during the previous summer that Jacqueline had given an entire box of leftover pastitsio to a homeless man after they had eaten lunch.
“Are you listening Aziz? We are discussing the tragic romance of Layla and Majnun,” the professor asked.
“Oh, sorry. I’ll make sure to pay attention. Sorry,” Aziz responded quickly. The professor sighed but did not chastise Aziz further.
Aziz met Jacqueline that afternoon at her apartment. She lived on the fourth floor of a white stucco building decorated by a mural of interwoven blue and yellow flowers. Her quarters were small yet comfortable, with a window overlooking the rest of her neighborhood. Palm trees swayed in the breeze and the pale dome of a small mosque was visible underneath the evening sky.
“So, I’ve got a dose of Mahabbah in here, the one that doesn’t spread between people,” she said as she opened her refrigerator and pulled out a small silvery aerosolizer. “Have you decided if you want to do this?” she asked more quietly.
“Yeah… I’m gonna do it. I think that the world needs this and if anyone can pull it off, you can. It all just seems a little crazy, y’know?” Jacqueline nodded and then hugged him tightly.
“I know,” she whispered. “Honestly, I’ve been struggling with it myself. But I just can’t let the world keep going the way it is. Just today, I heard about some more supremacist bombings of churches in the United States.” She held up the aerosolizer. “I put it in here. When you inhale it, the virus will travel through your olfactory receptor neurons and go to your brain.” Aziz took the aerosolizer from her and positioned it under his nose. He glanced at Jacqueline. In the dim light of the apartment, her blue eyes seemed to glitter as if full of stars. Aziz pressed the button on the aerosolizer and inhaled deeply, feeling the tingly sweetness of the device’s contents as they entered his nostrils. He lowered the aerosolizer and grinned weakly.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to After Dinner Conversation - Philosophy | Ethics Short Story to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.