Is the man in the hospital gown really a statue? No, people are just too fast, passing blurs speaking munchkin. His silent mantra: Stop disease!

Sloth-like, he moves almost im-per-cep-ti-bly. Right hand’s poised strangely above his forearm, no, moo-ving, fingers cupping, downward. Why? Nothing there. Until it appears, clinging to the short hairs of his wrist.

The mosquito probes once. Sixty-seven minutes later, Daniel’s ingested it. The staff see a statue still.