“What do you mean, quarantine?” Litvir grunted as he watched Vikalos tape plastic sheets to the doorway.
“What do YOU mean?” Vikalos asked back. “We need to undergo quarantine for a bit.”
“Why? What do you mean by quarantine?”
Vikalos grunted, stopped what he was doing and tapped on his wristband. “Definition of Quarantine: A condition, period of time, or place in which a being or object, or amount of material suspected of carrying an infectious agent is kept in confinement or isolated in an effort to prevent disease from spreading.”
Litvir rolled his eyes. “I know what the word quarantine means. I want to know why we are suddenly being forced to quarantine. What infectious agents have we potentially come across?”
“Aside from the feral Life Goddess and her stomach-penetrating parasites? Oh, nothing much. Although the holes ripped in the side of our ships may have let in some small Corruption contaminants, so better safe than sorry.”
Litvir paused, somewhat surprised. “There is… corruption outside? Is that not the wholly terrifying mind-decaying mass that turns good beings into mindless, hungry monsters?”
Vikalos nodded, then went back to work.
“And that is just hanging around outside?”
“Normally, no. But since we are still on the edges of a vacuum storm, then there is always a small risk. Better to quarantine now than be sorry later.”
Again, Litvir paused. He felt rather worried now. “How… would we know if we are… infected with anything?”
This time, Vikalos stopped. He turned to the Decayling and tutted. “Did you not read the introductory pamphlet on how to spot corruption?”
“Uh… maybe…”
With a growl, Vikalos snapped his fingers. A small leaflet appeared in his hand, which he passed along to Litvir. Litvir immediately scanned the pamphlet, absorbing as much information as he could. Thankfully there was a long, clear list of symptoms, all of which made… nearly no sense. Things like vomiting silk-like threads, having one’s skin peel off, being able to taste burnt flesh no matter what and having the sudden desire to cut open one’s own stomach, pull out internal organs (if any) and then eat whatever is removed.
Once he had finished the pamphlet, Litvir looked back up at Vikalos, who was now stapling more plastic sheets across the door frame.
“Is this for real?”
“You think I am lying?”
Litvir glanced at the pages, re-reading them. “All these symptoms… make no sense what so ever! They are so obvious, how could one just ignore them?”
“The majority of Decaylings and, to a point, Decay Lords, are rather solitary beings. Few of us are willing to talk about our problems and will hide any illness, considering it a sign of weakness.”
“But…” Litvir shook his head in disbelief. “How COULD someone have their skin peel off and not tell anyone?”
“You would be very surprised. I have caught others in the middle of a corrupting change. It can… actually be reasonably painless. And when you are in the middle of a myriad of other changes, corruption can sneak up on you. After all, it preys on one’s insecurities, your hunger and hatred. When you are alone, confused and unwilling to talk, you are an easier target.”
“Oh…” Litvir frowned. “So… should I… tell the other two?”
Vikalos shrugged. “I believe Itaviir already informed them. However, you three need to keep an eye on each other, so I would go and tell them anyway.”
“Alright…” The little Decayling was not at all amused by this situation, but there wasn’t much he could do. “How long will we be in quarantine for?”
“Should not be any more than seventy hours. Assuming we are all symptom-free, of course…”