Almost a decade after the war began, the enemy state was brought to its knees. Two nations were now begging at the same level. The air strikes and the weapons fire had reduced considerably, but so had everything else. The Muridea were now returning back to their homes, spawning a population where they heavily outnumbered their creators. Due to their lethal scavenging abilities, they refused to discriminate what kind of humans they attacked.
But more so, as they bred frighteningly fast and frighteningly large litters, their genetic diversity varied. They grew stronger, wilder and more “natural”. With every progressive step towards natural reproduction, the creatures began to lose most of the original conditioning they had been designed with. Except the resilience.
Grandfather himself had been attacked a few times. All he remembered during those struggles that those beasts were approximately twice his size, much stronger than he had anticipated. The precise memory of encounters were fading now, but all he remembered was terror, blood, fur and fangs. They had invaded the lower levels of the laboratory, and they chewed through the walls and protecting foundations of the structure with as much ease as they had converted enemy architecture to a few twisted, partially saliva-coated segments of metal.
Grandmother would wait everyday, scoffing at Grandfather when he was late, but secretly relieved that he didn’t come back with half his face shredded beyond recognition. Everyday, she invested her time in trying to fortify their home with whatever limited salvage components she could find. She would sigh and say it was stupid how one country, in an effort to create an army, created an almost infinite problem that neither could solve.
A normal army could be asked to stay off duty. If they were machines, they could be deactivated once their services were complete. A rampant population of one of the most persistent pests humanity had encountered, the Muridea did not come with any such convenient reset button. More so, during their creation, nobody had ever thought their idea would triumph, so they did not ever see the need to create a method to end this.
It was strange how in effort to antagonize each other, the two nations managed to find peace over a universal problem, namely pest control. It was a temporary peace, a desperate effort to look beyond the border of the national boundary and the river and ask each other what they could do about the Muridea.
More so, as the Muridea mutated, their organic bodily liquids seemed to carry the capacity to cause mutations of those in contact with it as well. People started bursting out in fangs and rodent teeth and an irrepressible thirst for blood. The Muridea were adding to their own numbers. No more was it a battle of one nation against another, but of human against an organic weapon.
One person knew the answer. She went by the name of Piper. She was genius, and like all genius, dangerous. She had discovered a weakness in the Muridea. They intuitively communicated via auditory signals. Therefore, if a human being were to affect a sudden high frequency audio pulse, they could momentarily destabilize the Muridea. Of unknown identity, or qualifications, she walked with the power to control the fate of two nations.
She was young, too.
She promised to end the Muridea for something very small in return, a sustainable human gene pool. She explained that the land she came from had suffered stunted growth from war fallout. The aftermath had left them all sterile. So, she offered to make the Muridea sterile and use a sonic pulse to kill them, in promise of something that would help her people enjoy families again. It was a pulse that would suspend any mammal’s reproductive capacities indefinitely, and if conveyed at a high, irregular frequency, could frustrate the aural nerves to the extent that the Muridea would die.
Desperation. So much desperation for a convenient solution without ever wondering how such a debt could be repaid or what the consequences of such an action could be. But then again, shortsightedness had always been their greatest problem.
Again, unsure of fate, two nations decided to agree to let the river that marked their boundaries as the graveyard for the Muridea. They would provide whatever human gene samples that the Piper wanted, if he could end the plague of the Muridea.