Elena was organizing culture samples when Sophia appeared at the boratory doorway, her expression unreadable.
"Do you have a moment? Privately?" The professor's tone was carefully neutral.
Elena nodded, continuing to bel the final vial. "Of course."
They walked in silence to the small research office adjacent to the main boratory. Once inside, Sophia closed the door and turned the simple lock with a decisive click.
"I think we need to discuss Viktor," Sophia said, leaning against the desk rather than sitting.
Elena kept her expression neutral. "What about him?"
"Let's not waste time. I've been observing him systematically since his arrival." Sophia pulled a small notebook from her pocket. "He doesn't eat—he merely pretends to. I've watched him dispose of food when he thinks no one is looking. He never seeks medical attention despite working in hazardous areas. During the power outage, he navigated complete darkness without hesitation or disorientation."
She flipped a page. "His pupils don't dite normally. He has unexpined strength when moving heavy equipment. He works through the night without fatigue. And most telling—" Sophia looked up from her notes, "—Adam's miraculous recovery after your unspecified 'experimental treatment.'"
The silence stretched between them, taut with unspoken accusations.
"Are you going to ask me a question, Sophia?" Elena finally said.
"Is Viktor a vampire?"
The directness didn't surprise Elena; it was Sophia's scientific nature to articute a hypothesis clearly. Elena considered her options carefully before responding.
"What exactly is a vampire, Sophia?" She kept her voice calm, almost academic. "How do you define that category scientifically?"
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "Don't evade with semantics."
"I'm not evading. I'm questioning your framework." Elena leaned forward. "Is it binary? Human versus monster? Or is there a spectrum of humanity that continues after transformation?"
"This isn't a philosophical debate," Sophia said sharply.
"But it should be." Elena gestured to the scientific equipment surrounding them. "We're researchers. We observe, question assumptions, revise hypotheses based on new data. Have you applied that scientific rigor to your conception of the transformed?"
Sophia's composure wavered slightly. "I've conducted extensive studies—"
"On restrained subjects in a boratory setting," Elena interrupted. "Selected samples under extreme stress conditions. That's not representative sampling."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Because your question presupposes categories I no longer find scientifically valid," Elena replied. "What if the line between human and vampire isn't where we thought? What if retention of humanity depends on choices, ethics, self-control—not just biology?"
Sophia paced the small room. "They kill people, Elena. They feed on humans."
"Some do. Not all. Just as some humans murder and others don't." Elena paused. "Has Viktor harmed anyone here? Has he shown any predatory behavior toward the children he helps? The patients he treats in darkness when others can't see?"
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Sophia's face. "Biological imperatives eventually override temporary restraint."
"Is that scientific conclusion or emotional response?" Elena asked gently.
Sophia turned away, her shoulders stiff. "My sister was a medical researcher. When the outbreak hit her facility, her colleague of five years—a man who'd been to her wedding, who'd held her newborn daughter—tore her throat out the moment he turned."
Elena's voice softened. "I'm so sorry, Sophia."
"I found her body when I went looking." Sophia's voice was clinical, as if discussing a specimen. "He was still there, feeding. He looked up at me, blood covering his face, and I saw nothing of the man who'd been my brother-in-w's best friend. Nothing human remained."
"That's a devastating experience," Elena acknowledged. "But it's a single data point, experienced under extreme trauma. Would you accept such limited sampling in any other scientific context?"
Sophia turned back, her composure restored but her eyes haunted. "You haven't seen what I've seen."
"Maybe not. But I've seen things you haven't," Elena countered. "I've seen someone fight against their biological imperatives every minute of every day. I've seen someone use their changed nature to help rather than harm. I've seen consciousness, ethics, and humanity persist despite transformation."
"You're talking about Viktor now," Sophia said, not a question but a statement.
Elena neither confirmed nor denied. "I'm talking about expanding our understanding beyond simplistic categories. As scientists, isn't that our obligation? To revise theories when new evidence emerges?"
Across the Underground, Viktor was helping reinforce the secondary escape tunnel when he overheard two security guards talking just around the corner.
"Rivera's implementing new protocols tomorrow," the first guard said. "Everyone gets screened."
"The blood test?" the second asked.
"Yeah. Exposure to small amounts causes immediate reaction in the turned. Pupil changes, skin flush, sometimes aggression. Can't hide it."
Viktor continued hammering, keeping his movements casual while straining to hear more.
"Whole community?" the second guard asked.
"Starting with newcomers and anyone showing unusual behavior. The doc from the Eastern Outpost brought the testing supplies. Says it's foolproof—they've caught three infiltrators at her compound with it."
Viktor set down his tools, wiping his hands on a rag. "Need any help with the reinforcement along the north section?" he called, rounding the corner with deliberate noise.
The guards straightened. "All set here," the taller one replied. "But thanks."
"I heard something about new security protocols?" Viktor kept his tone casually interested.
The guards exchanged gnces. "Just routine screening," the first one said. "Captain Rivera's being cautious with reports of organized vampire activity increasing outside."
"Makes sense," Viktor nodded. "What kind of screening? Should I report somewhere specific?"
"Medical section, starting tomorrow. Everyone gets checked eventually. Just basic stuff." The guard's vague answer suggested the specifics weren't for general knowledge.
"Well, can't be too careful these days," Viktor said with a forced smile. "I'll get back to the support beams."
As he walked away, his mind raced. Systematic blood testing would expose him immediately. Their time had just run out.
"What would you do," Elena asked Sophia, "if you found someone who was turned but had harmed no one? Who used their abilities to help others? Who retained their full consciousness and ethical framework?"
"That's a hypothetical with no evidence supporting its possibility," Sophia replied, but her tone had lost some of its certainty.
"Is it? Scientists should question absolutes, Sophia. That's how progress happens."
Their intense conversation was interrupted by a small knock. Elena opened the door to find Adam standing there, Eva hovering protectively behind him.
"Sorry to interrupt," Adam said, his color healthy again, eyes bright. "But I made something for Viktor and can't find him." He held up a crayon drawing of what appeared to be Viktor reading to both children.
"That's wonderful, Adam," Elena smiled. "I'm sure he'll love it."
Sophia studied the boy with clinical interest. "You're feeling much better today."
Adam nodded enthusiastically. "Viktor's medicine made the monsters in my blood go away. That's what he called them—tiny monsters making me sick. But he's good at fighting monsters."
The innocence of his statement hung in the air between the two women. Elena saw something shift in Sophia's expression.
"I'm gd you're better," Sophia said finally. "Viktor is... very knowledgeable about certain things."
After the children left, the tension in the room had transformed subtly.
"You have a decision to make, Sophia," Elena said quietly. "About what kind of scientist—what kind of person—you want to be. One who only sees what theory tells her should be there, or one who observes what actually exists, even when it challenges established thinking."
Sophia gathered her notes. "I need to think." She unlocked the door, pausing before leaving. "This conversation isn't over, Elena."
"No," Elena agreed. "I don't imagine it is."
Viktor found Elena waiting in their quarters, her expression telling him everything before she spoke.
"Sophia knows," she said simply.
Viktor nodded. "And the guards are implementing blood testing starting tomorrow. Exposure testing that immediately reveals vampires."
Elena closed her eyes briefly. "Then we're out of time."
"I heard they're starting with newcomers and suspicious individuals." He ran a hand through his hair. "I qualify on both counts."
"What did Sophia say?"
"She didn't make any definitive accusation." Elena recounted their conversation. "She's conflicted. Her sister was killed by a newly-turned vampire—it's personal for her."
"Understandable," Viktor said softly. "And complicates things considerably."
"I tried to challenge her binary thinking." Elena began gathering essential items, moving methodically around their small space. "Make her question whether transformation automatically equals monster."
"A hard perspective to accept when your sister's blood was on someone's face." Viktor's voice held no judgment, only sad understanding.
Elena paused. "What do we do if she reports you?"
"We leave immediately," Viktor said simply. "I've been mentally mapping escape routes since we arrived."
Their conversation was interrupted by Eva's small voice from the doorway. "Viktor! Adam's looking everywhere for you. He made you something."
Viktor's serious expression transformed into a warm smile for the child. "Well, I'd better not keep him waiting then."
As Viktor followed Eva to find her brother, Sophia watched from across the common area, her scientific notebook open in her hands. As the children surrounded Viktor with excited chatter, showing him their artwork, Sophia's expression shifted between clinical observation and unmistakable conflict.
The equations of her worldview were being rewritten before her eyes, and Elena could almost see the calcutions running behind that penetrating gaze.
The question was whether empathy or fear would prove the stronger variable in her conclusion.