Cocktail of Life

It started with a simple cold. Eve Berger refused to consult a doctor for a stupid cold. She went to bed early and spent the weekend at home, reading mystery books and drinking gallons of herbal tea. Monday, her boss sent her home.
'Go see a doctor, I don't want half the office staff infected during main season,' he said.
Grudgingly, Eve made an appointment with Doctor Mason in the afternoon. She checked her throat, knocked her on the back and front, looked into her ears.
'You caught a cold, obviously. Either you stay home a few days until it blows over, or you take adequate medication.'
Eve contemplated her options. She really had a shitload of work waiting for her, and, more important, Tuesday evening was her date with a gorgeous type from gym.
'Can't stay home, too busy at the office. Can I get a prescription?'

~ ~ ~

She picked up the drugs in the pharmacy at the corner. The pharmacist checked the doctor's note frowning.
'Which option do you prefer?'
Eve was perplexed. 'Option?'
'This prescription mentions two possibilities. One is a classical general medication for heavy colds. The other is a fabulous cure but new on the market. One single pill, and your cold is gone.'
Eve frowned. 'And what's the catch?'
'No catch, nanotechnology. Imagine an antivirus specifically fighting the source of your infection.'
'Why would you sell classical medication if there is a magical instant cure instead?'
'I don't know. Guess older people rarely trust new scientific innovations.'
The frown on Eve's forehead deepened. At thirty-nine she didn't count herself under the collective term 'older people', not by a long shot.
'Okay, give me the wonder-treatment.'

It was too late to return to the office. She headed home instead and sat down with a cup of tea to study the package insert. If the leaflet was to be believed, the drug worked simply, efficiently and without side effects. Reassured, Eve swallowed the yellowish pill before she turned in.

The next morning she felt great. All signs of the cold were gone, no sniffles, no cough. She entered the office with a clear head and a spring in her step. Her boss raised a questioning eyebrow. But he wasn't one to complain about dedicated workers.

~ ~ ~

Eve had already forgotten about her cold the next evening. It was Tuesday, the day she finally dated Marcus, her favourite Adonis from her gym club. She still couldn't believe he noticed her after three years of using adjacent treadmills every Wednesday night. Determined to give her best impression, she hurried home after work to shower, dress, do her hair and makeup.

A childhood tricycle accident had left her with an ugly scar above the left eye. People often stared at it. She preferred to cover it up instead of having her date's gaze inadvertently shift to the annoying mark during conversation. Eve picked a brush to apply skin-coloured foundation, then stared at her reflection in the mirror, speechless.
The old scar was gone, without a trace.

The date didn't go well. Later, Eve blamed it to the missing scar. It's inexplicable disappearance left her absentminded the whole evening.

~ ~ ~

When Eve needed the second haircut in one week and trimmed her fingernails at least twice daily, she decided to see Doctor Mason again. Her abounding health earned her a questioning look at the front desk. The Doctor herself was grumpy as usual.
'What's wrong with you this time?'
Eve explained and the doctor's frown deepened.
'You are telling me you feel too healthy, to summarise your problem.'
'Um, yes, if you put it this way. I mean, even the scar of my appendectomy is gone. That's not normal, I'd say.'
'Listen, young lady. Come back when you have a real health problem. There are sick people out in the waiting room, so please stop wasting my time.'

On the way home, one of her teeth popped out, complete with filling. It was replaced within hours by a new, healthy one.

~ ~ ~

The call came two days later: Doctor Morgan summoned her for an urgent re-check. Eve's stomach turned, in spite of her roaring health.
Doctor Morgan greeted her almost friendly and motioned her into the consulting room. This time, the examination was thorough. After an hour, the nurse allowed Eve to dress again. She waited another hour for the Doctor to discuss results. Eve suppressed a shiver when she discovered the predatory glint in Doctor Morgan's eyes.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing, not yet. You are healthier than I remember seeing you. Nevertheless, would you mind to answer a few personal questions?'
As if she got a choice at his point! Something was obviously terribly wrong. Eve tried to relax, told herself she was fine. But the doctor's sudden interest was suspicious, to say the least. She sat down, crossed her legs, breathed deeply, and braced herself.

'Great. Do you remember any kind of genetic treatment? Maybe long ago as a child even?'
Eve shakes her head automatically. But something bugs her. In vague memories she recalls her parents talking about a hereditary illness when she was very young. She hardly remembers the details, only hazy pictures of a hospital room remain, and of her mother bringing her picture books while visiting.
'I'm not sure. I spent time in hospital as a child, it might have had something to do with my blood or liver.'
The broad smile on Doctor Morgans face makes her want to puke or run away as fast as possible. But she needs to know more.
'How can a treatment in early childhood influence hair growth?'
'Easy, my dear Miss Berger, easy. According to the blood scan, your bloodstream carries a population of active nanobots. They are supposed to take over functions your cells cannot fulfil themselves as you suffer from a rare hereditary blood illness. You should have mentioned this when we first met.'
'I was a child, I didn't even remember until you started to ask questions. What's the bad news?'
'Nothing at all. Your flourishing health is very interesting. But I suggest to present your case to an acknowledged expert, just to be sure everything remains all right.'

~ ~ ~

The specialist, Doctor Norton, browsed through a bunch of Eve's ancient files. He probably requested them from the hospital where she was originally treated, over thirty years ago. He didn't smile at all and Eve wondered if he was even capable of emotion.
'So, you're one of the first cases successfully treated with the Parker-Dunrowsky cure. An incredibly fantastic scientific breakthrough!'
Eve shrugged, silently noting that yes, Doctor Norton could indeed show emotion. She just doubted she liked where this was going. At least the doctor didn't elaborate on the incredibly fantastic scientific method.

'Well, in your case the Parker-Dunrowsky treatment reached one hundred percent efficiency. After initial installation of the nanobots, no further adjustments were needed. Sadly, your recent experimentation with new drugs disturbed the equilibrium.'
'Experimentation? I caught a cold and got a prescription for some wonder drug. I'm not sick, to the contrary.'
'Exactly, Miss Berger. The medication you took contained a new type of nano-particles. They were supposed to treat your nasal infection and then die off. Instead, they transmitted some of their properties to the Parker-Dunrowsky 'bots in your bloodstream and caused them to take on new functions. Now, they rebuild all faulty cells in your body. You might have observed some old scars fading and such.'
Bummer. Eve didn't miss the scars, but the hair-growing and teeth-replacing took it too far.
'Excuse me, does this mean I can't get sick anymore?'
'Yes. And another thing. How old are you, Miss Berger?'
'Thirty-nine. Why?'
'Well, if you'd let me guess your age I'd said twenty-five to thirty at most. The 'bots are rejuvenating your cells.'
'Thirty? Impossible, it's been only two weeks! What happens in a month? Will the 'bots stop at some point?'
'Unlikely. But yours is a special case, unfortunately we can't base our predictions on experience.'

Eve closed her eyes and tried to imagine what this meant. She'd lost roughly ten years in two weeks. At this rate, in another three weeks, she'd own the body of a teenager. A shiver ran down her spine. There was no way she wanted to pass this phase once more, neither fore- nor backwards.
'You must find a possibility to stop this immediately. I'll be an infant in six weeks! And what happens after that? Will I crawl into somebody's womb?'
'Rest assured, Miss Berger, we will do our best. Yours is a very challenging case.'

~ ~ ~

The following weeks saw Eve caught in a never ending row of investigations. At work, she asked for a holiday and spent endless days in anonymous laboratories and sterile hospital rooms. Soon it became obvious the injection of additional nanobots wouldn't solve the problem. Her original 'bots were made to last a lifetime and absorbed new intruders without mercy. With every set of them, they acquired new, surprising functionalities. Ten days of unsuccessful testing later, Doctor Norton brought in another expert.

Doctor Gherkin specialised in biomimetic studies. After a series of dubious trials, he used DNA of some Ephemeroptera, a fly species, to slow down the rejuvenation process. Finally, Eve saw some light.
Her body stabilised around the age of twenty or eighteen. At least she looked still of legal age, but showing her ID every time she wanted to buy a drink turned annoying soon. Especially when she was accused of using her mothers driving licence one night. And being hit upon by boys half her age wasn't to her liking either. But there were worse complications.

The fly serum worked, but it had to be reapplied frequently, in shortening periods. Doctor Gherkin assured her that in time, he would find a reliable long-time cure. He also told her not to worry about health insurance: He considered her a favourite research project, perhaps her cure would earn him a Nobel prize in medicine.

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Eve blinks slowly and her colour shifts, becomes darker, spottier. She leans against the trunk of a giant oak and soon, her outlines merge with the colour of the bark to invisibility. Doctor Gherkin won't win a Nobel prize, but his cure has certain benefits. Eve doesn't need a day job anymore, has no insurance and rent to pay.

Chameleon and octopus chromosomes in the final DNA injection help with camouflage while on the hunt. And tonight she's hungry.
While Eve waits patiently, she briefly wonders if genes of a white shark or saltwater crocodile triggered her recent cravings. Maybe there was also some polar bear or tiger in the cocktail.
But soon, all human thoughts evaporate.

Her unsuspecting prey jogs along the walking path to the darker parts of the park. Immersed in the music filling his earphones, the young man remains unaware of a pair of faintly glowing eyes following his every move.