This is section five of five from my short story, Hemo Sapiens: Aftermath. I’ve made available an audio version if you are so inclined. I’ll be publishing the rest of the story over the next few days. The first section is also available. Let me know how you feel about it in the comments section. Check out another story in this universe: Hemo Sapiens: The Unidentified.
Ravi shuts off his presentation. “So that’s your glimpse into what it’s like to be a bat,” he tells the class, gesticulating. “If you’ve got any questions about the assignment, talk to Niamh. She’s your go-to for that.” He sets the remote down on his desk.
The oak-panelled walls of his classroom soak up the fluorescent light, but the air’s different today. Quieter. Tense. His mobile vibrates in his pocket. It’s from the Journal of Evolutionary Biology. “Your Article Is Now Published,” the subject line reads.
A swift swipe of his thumb and the notification’s gone. Pride swells, mixed with something less celebratory. “You’re dismissed,” he tells the class. The words feel heavy, like he’s severing something he can’t quite name.
Overnight, Ravi becomes renowned. But with fame comes shadows and backlash.
But shadows lurk beneath the glare of fame. As the light grows brighter, the darkness closes in too.
Henry warns the spotlight also illuminates targets. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow, and powerful enemies may lurk in the shadows.
Ravi’s inbox overflows with vitriol — trolls lobbing slurs, hate groups spewing conspiracies, armchair critics challenging his every claim. Even colleagues whisper in hushed corridors, envy tainting their smiles. He tells himself to let it roll off his back, but the hostility eats at him.
Ravi stands firm as the host tries to provoke him. Inside though, doubts gnaw.
Ravi pushes down the indignation rising within. “I’m well aware this research could tank my career,” he responds bluntly. “My colleagues may vilify me. I’ll likely lose funding and positions. But I had an obligation to publish the truth as I found it, regardless of the professional risk.”
The host raises his eyebrows, scepticism evident. Ravi feels his reputation is on the line, his life’s work hanging by a thread. But he maintains his composure. “I stand by my research, no matter the personal or professional consequences I face.”
Inside, his heart hammers at the looming prospect of destroying everything he’s built. But the world needs to know. He steels himself, determined to weather whatever backlash comes.
At a black-tie gala, he’s swarmed by socialites and sponsors eager to capitalise on his status. Their hungry eyes unnerve him. Ravi realises he’s become a commodity.
“What a ride, eh?” Henry remarks after one dizzying week.
Ravi nods, exhaling slowly. The ride’s far from over. And he’s no longer sure he wants a front row seat. Already he longs for the comforting solitude of his lab.
On a video call, Ravi sips his sole solace — a hot cuppa. But tensions run high.
“So glad you could find time in your busy schedule, Dr Chandrasekhar,” Detective Henderson tacitly introduces him. “I believe everyone here knows you. Let’s get started.”
Henderson continues with a rundown of the case so far, involving the hemo sapiens, ending with, “We are under a lot of pressure to uncover their history, but everything’s a dead end.”
Ravi listens as others weigh in on the unfolding societal drama. Human rights groups are calling for their release; the police consider them a flight risk.
A social worker chimes in about the difficult situation regarding the young hemo sapiens.
Henderson finally asks Ravi, “Do you have anything to add regarding your Hemo sapiens research, professor? Your perspective could prove invaluable, given your status as the preeminent expert on these individuals.”
“I appreciate being asked to help with this case,” Ravi begins cautiously, “But this feels squarely like detective work. I can continue to be of service, but I need your assurance that these people will be protected.”
Ravi senses the room’s collective gaze shift toward him, like a pack of wolves sizing up their next meal. This is well above his pay grade, isn’t it? “I appreciate being invited to help on this case.” He pauses, savouring the slight sting of the warm tea as it slips down his throat, a brief respite from the mounting tension.
The weight of their expectations gnaws at him. He feels like he’s clutching at straws, grappling for answers that just aren’t there. Silence hangs heavy. “But I must be frank; I’ve done what I can with the information I’ve been given. If there’s more to know, then it isn’t within the scope of my current research.”
Ravi clears his throat, trying not to think about the repercussions—how every pair of eyes on this screen will read into his words, how this could ricochet back on him, tarnishing years of credibility. “I have ethical concerns about how this case is being handled. The unvarnished truth is that we have no clue where these individuals have evolved from or who created them. Should we discover more, I can certainly connect some genetic dots. In any case, these are still people. Homo sapiens. They have rights.”
Disclaimer: This content is not necessarily a finished work. As such, details are subject to change or removal.
Ridley Park 