My father’s amygdalae lay in a disposable plastic storage container. A pair of small, fleshy lobes, pale pink and glistening.
It was hard to imagine that these two tiny nodes of brain matter contained the trillions of TGVx parasites that Chris was counting on to halt the plague on a global scale.
When I mentioned this to Chris, he said, “Your dad’s are actually twicethe size of normal amygdalae. They’re swollen with tiny, densely packed parasites.”
Chris poured a bag full of my dad’s honey-blood over the lobes. They floated in the golden fluid like some kind of exotic stewed fruit.
“Now that the amygdalae have been separated from the body,” Chris explained as he squeezed the last of the honey-blood into the container, “the parasites will disperse into the honey, looking for a new host. They’re super tough. They’ll live on their own honey for weeks like this.” Chris put the lid onto the container and firmly sealed it. “After a few days, we can dilute the honey with large quantities of saline solution, or even water, and then we’ll have more than enough to treat cities full of positives.”